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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. 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 hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal 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 two. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation 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 because I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and cope with them. However 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, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had changed too and I don't know if one thing had to do with the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me in the beginning, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and special and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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