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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. 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 woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Method 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 absurd, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often 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 bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these people for an hour or more. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a girl, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill 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 whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. 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 come back 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 lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't harm me, you know? 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 woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the male who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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