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I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might actually charge more, especially 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 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to invest, 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 outrageous, however you 'd marvel how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never 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 really guilty in the beginning, but that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return 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 since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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