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I even started taking the money, mainly because 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 women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could really 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 really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way 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 deserved an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things 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 men for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
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, but that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't hurting anybody. The men liked 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 deal 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 safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my papa. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if one thing related to the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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