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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 way 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 lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash 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 two. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a lady, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope with them. But they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting 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.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his wife. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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