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I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt 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 women do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, 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 extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed 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 desired a woman, just a girl, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, 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 comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you know? I was in love with my daddy. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing pertained to the other exactly, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, the majority 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 girl next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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