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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do. I had not been a little woman in a very long time though. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.

I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way excessive 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 extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.

The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.

I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child but as his other half. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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