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I even began taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way excessive 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel how many people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the pointers that truly flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics 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 actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and deal with them. But 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 safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk with him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. But I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done whatever but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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