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I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could really charge more, particularly if the person I was opting for selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering a weird car, a various weird cars and truck whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way excessive 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 believed was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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