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I even started taking the money, mainly 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 silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Method 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 thought was absurd, however you 'd be stunned how lots of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a lady, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, however that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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