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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the pointers that actually flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk 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 since I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed 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, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me really was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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