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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. But 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 ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money 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 two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel how many guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the tips that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require 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 because I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and cope 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring 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 girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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