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I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, because I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was choosing picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me getting into a strange cars and truck, a various strange vehicle every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't hurting 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me would not injure me, you know? 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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