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I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage because he might really charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid somebody would see me getting into a strange car, a different unusual car every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed 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. He stated that was generous since 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 prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who loved me would not injure me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if one thing pertained to the other precisely, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, the majority of them wanting 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. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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