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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, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering a strange cars and truck, a various unusual cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the pointers that really flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and cope with them. 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 because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if something had to do with the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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