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I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common 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 though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad'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 tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these men 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 think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really 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 enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope with them. 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had actually altered too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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