The gang of prostitutes

We want to tell you our story. Don't be surprised. I will introduce myself and my friends. Should we introduce our parents? No, it's not worth it because it's us, our story and not theirs.

I am called Cathy. The real name that my father and mother gave me is Catherine. They think it's a good name, but I prefer to be called Cathy. At school, on my composition sheets, it's Cathy. I liked this name so much that one day I burned my own birth certificate and renewed it. Didn't that surprise you? That's how I am; I'm a recalcitrant woman. I am not a problem woman but there is intelligence flowing through my veins and every time I want something, I get it.

In fact, I am a fatherless. My father was a great military man. But one day he was struck down by a terrible illness and died. That's how I became a fatherless. I have a mother. After my father's death, she packed up a few months later and remarried. My mother seems to love the man thing, otherwise, how could she not wait for at least a year before going to remarry? Anyway, that's not my problem. When she left, she entrusted me to her sister. Her sister is therefore my aunt. It is with my aunt that I grew up. I grew breasts in my aunt's house at the age of sixteen. Little by little, my breasts had grown in size. When I tilt my head and look at my chest, I am very proud of it. Yes, when a girl starts to grow breasts, how happy she is! It is this joy that absorbed me too.

Don't you know that when we start to grow breasts, it is the hour of our glory that starts to sound like that? If you don't know it, know it from now on.

So, I was telling you about my birth certificate that I burned to make a new one. So, since there is no one to lecture me, I do things as they come to my mind. Who is my aunt to scold me? If she does, I'll eat her up. Her husband is also who to reproach me? I'm going to smoke him.

So I am free in the house. But it is not because I am allowed everything that I can do whatever I please; ah but no! Before I do something, I first evaluate the results that it could have.

Indeed, I had burned the birth certificate to have a great name. My aunt's husband is a man in his forties. He is a very rich young man. He is very busy with his business and never has time to stay at home. That's why when I lied to them on the day of my birth certificate renewal, neither he nor my aunt knew that I was changing my identity.

So you already know the origin of my name Cathy. So we can continue the story. So I am called Cathy. I'm in the ninth grade at a private middle school; no, a high school. I was brought to this high school because of my lack of success last year. But when I arrived at this school, the rigor of the principal immediately changed my lazy nature. Can you imagine what happens when you get a grade below twelve? Man! Still, you regret having agreed to set foot in that fucking yard. Yes, you get patted down like a thief. You line up in a row and each one of you goes into the principal's office. He stands there with his big strap and a stick in his hand, spanks you and then finally hits you twice in the back with his strap. In the first term, I was one of the lazy ones. But in the second term, I quickly got down to work. Oh yes, I don't like the chicanery. That damned man who thought he was the supervisor of the school where my aunt's husband had enrolled me was a heartless man. He beat his students like they were goats. Before the turn of those who have not yet passed through his correction table, they cry. Yes, one can imagine the pain of the blows in the body and in all the bones. In the first two months of the year, I had recovered from the beatings and had given myself to the classes. I had become the most studious in the class. And as you know, effort always pays off. I was admitted to a higher class thanks to the lashings of the school supervisor.

Here I am in third grade this year. There are fifty students in the class. We sit in pairs. No groups. The tables were lined up one behind the other like in churches. In my class, I was the most beautiful and I was always quiet. I didn't have any friends because the months of last year taught me to be studious and very wise. And as you know, silence attracts. When you stay quiet and don't fidget, the world seeks you out because being quiet is not for everyone. Few people are quiet. Friends approached me but I did my best to be reticent with them. But reluctance upon reluctance, two girls in my graduating class managed to win my friendship; they were Lydia and Cintia. Lydia, she is slightly older than me. She is also older than Cintia. She is a very beautiful girl. Besides, in my class, there are too many beautiful girls. The prettiest ones, as usual, sat on the front benches of the class. Cintia and Lydia and I were also part of the gang of beautiful girls. They were not in the same row as me. They were on the opposite side.

Every morning, my two new friends would come by car while I came by motorcycle. Yes, Lydia and Cintia were from modest families. I could also come to school by car, but I was not in my father's house to ask for that. Little by little, the friendship between my two girlfriends had started to grow like a plant in the ground. We formed a group of three to go eat at the canteen. In the vast courtyard, there were no boys who could admire and appreciate our beauty except for a few teachers who were only allowed to look at us without daring to tell anyone how much they admired us.

We went to the canteen to eat the meal of our choice. At the end, we returned to the classroom to review our lessons before the teacher arrived. It was in this atmosphere that our intimacy grew until one day Lydia finally made a proposal to us; a proposal that would not only save us a lot of bickering but would also make us a lot of money.

That's why I told you that when a girl starts to grow up, always remember that it's the capital of her business that starts to see the light of day because, with her hairy sex and her breasts, she can make hundreds of thousands a day.

Can you imagine how much our bodies generate per day? Read our story to find out.