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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. However then, if I had the good sense I would not have been an escort either. 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 had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how numerous men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine 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 really guilty at first, however that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back 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 because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not injure me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had altered too and I don't know if one thing related to the other precisely, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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