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I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply 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 girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might really charge more, especially 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 truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how numerous people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics 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 men for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few 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. However 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 truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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