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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. However then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my checking 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 representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, just a lady, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent 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 convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and cope with them. However they loved 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 knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had changed too and I don't understand if one thing pertained to the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me initially, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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