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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the good sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected 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 almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd marvel how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut 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 primarily. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. 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 really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and think of the male who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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