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I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do. I had not been a little girl in a long time. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.

Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how lots of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to suck 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 lot of money to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or more. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, simply a lady, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.

Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and live with them. 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 knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.

I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might speak with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child but as his wife. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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