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I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do. I hadn't been a little woman in a long time. I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering a weird car, a various unusual vehicle each time, and question what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel how many men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, just a girl, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.

Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.

I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my genuine papa and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child but as his partner. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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