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I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the tips that actually flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform 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 men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman 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 comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and deal with them. But 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 since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. 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 lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his spouse. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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