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I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might actually charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. However they were in love with who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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