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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I would not 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 had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated 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 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 almost two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way 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 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent 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 really guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't injure me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had actually altered too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 lady next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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