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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. However then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that really flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a woman, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much 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 really guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and liked. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real papa and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his wife. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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