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I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared somebody would see me getting into a unusual car, a different strange car whenever, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of 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 really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I was in love with my daddy. That had altered too and I do not know if something pertained to the other precisely, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I could speak to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his child but as his other half. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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