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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt 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 ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea because he might in fact charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a unusual car, a various weird cars and truck each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method too much 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 additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised the number of people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact 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; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and live 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 lonely since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might speak to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to think 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 more before. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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