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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. However then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be stunned how many people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if one thing had to do with the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and loved. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real papa and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his partner. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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