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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how numerous people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent 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 really guilty in the beginning, but that had gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope with them. However they were in love with 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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