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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. However then, if I had the good sense I would not have actually 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised the number of people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and deal 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 since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various 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 dad. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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