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I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way 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 thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how many men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the tips that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased 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 tell 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 actually like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, simply a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think 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 much better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and live 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 because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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