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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. However then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. 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 girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd marvel the number of men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the tips that truly flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing 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 because I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and deal with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had actually altered too and I do not understand if something involved 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 various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his other half. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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