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I even started taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive 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 ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require 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 sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a little 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. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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