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I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful 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 ridiculous things that little girls do. I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.

Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the pointers that truly flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.

Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed 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 lonesome 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 would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.

I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk with him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his partner. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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