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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 way of common 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 girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . 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 due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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