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I even started taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a odd car, a different weird vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and cope 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 truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing pertained to the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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