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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common 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 hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how numerous guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these men for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, simply a woman, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent 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.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, but that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a little 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 live with them. But 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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