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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply 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 girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, especially if the person 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.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be stunned how lots of men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut 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 primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the suggestions that really flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, 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 scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell 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 more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman possibly 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 been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and deal 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 since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had actually changed too and I don't know if one thing had to do with the other exactly, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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