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I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, because I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a advantage since he might really charge more, specifically if the person I was choosing chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid somebody would see me entering into a weird cars and truck, a different odd automobile every time, and wonder what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the pointers that actually flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think 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 tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and deal 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 because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me really was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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