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I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do. I had not been a little lady in a long time. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.

Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine 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 actually guilty at first, but that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anybody. The men loved 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 deal with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.

I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.

 

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