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I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 women do. I had not been a little woman in a long time. I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a advantage since he might really charge more, especially if the man I was choosing selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a unusual car, a different odd automobile every time, and question what was going on.

Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a girl, and knowing that I truly 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 better I got.

Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live 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 knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not injure me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I don't know if one thing had to do with the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.

I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.

 

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