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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the person I was choosing selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me getting into a strange car, a various unusual car each time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how numerous people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a woman, just a lady, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a 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 live 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had altered too and I don't know if one thing related to the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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