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I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do. I hadn't been a little girl in a long time. I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, since I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because 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 truly like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me getting into a odd car, a various strange cars and truck whenever, and wonder what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash 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 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the ideas that truly flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.

Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope 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 lonesome since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not harm me, you understand? I loved my father. That had changed too and I don't understand if something had to do with the other precisely, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. However a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me in the beginning, but then it didn't and I started liking it.

I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.

 

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