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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, simply a lady, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and cope with them. 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 since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had changed too and I do not understand if one thing involved the other exactly, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and think of the male who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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