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I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. 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 woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how numerous people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk 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 considering that I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually 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 gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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