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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. 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 time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, especially 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 absurd, but you 'd be surprised how lots of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that actually flushed my checking account. Deke offered 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 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. 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 given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but 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 comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live 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 knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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