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I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret 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 silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he might actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, 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 underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, simply a girl, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and cope 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had altered too and I do not understand if something had to do with the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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