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I even started taking the money, mainly since 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could really charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked 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 almost 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a girl, and understanding that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and live 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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