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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. However then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way 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 deserved an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be surprised the number of people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, 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 cash to spend and it was the ideas that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, just a girl, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, 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 comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live 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 because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't injure 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine dad and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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