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I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do. I had not been a little lady in a long time. I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea because he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was choosing picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly afraid somebody would see me getting into a unusual vehicle, a different strange car each time, and wonder what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman 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 actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and deal with them. But they loved 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.

I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine papa and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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