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I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be stunned how numerous people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope 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 knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if something related to the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman 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 imagine the male who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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