Hi, I’m Chloé! I’m twenty-five years old, and I’m a really cute and fragile young woman, kind of like a doll you’re afraid to break if you hug her too tight. I’m not very tall, just a little over five feet two, and I’m really slim, like a twig you could snap without meaning to. My hair is black, styled in a cute little bob with straight bangs that fall over my eyes. I look like a little girl like that, don’t I? When I’m a bit nervous, I like to play with my bangs, twirling them in my fingers; it calms my little heart that beats too fast. I have green eyes, very, very green, like big lakes full of secrets, even those I don’t always understand. And my skin is all white, soft like paper, and sometimes I feel like you could see my heart beating underneath, but you shouldn’t look too long, or I’ll turn all red!

I don’t have many curves, that’s true. My breasts are really small, like little bumps under my light dresses, and my butt is discreet, very small, very shy, as if it doesn’t want to be seen too much. But some people like that; they think I’m a doll they want to cuddle… or do some naughty things with. My hands are thin and sometimes tremble a bit, but they know how to be gentle, to caress softly or do what I’m asked, because I’ve learned to be good and listen for a long time. I’m nice, very, very nice, and sometimes people think I’m a bit silly, but that’s okay, I love them anyway.

And then, I think about sex all the time, really all the time, like I always have drool on my lips, as if I’m ready to do naughty things at any moment. I think it’s because of my Master; he taught me that it’s a way to show you love others, that you give them pleasure so they love you back. Since I’ve been with him, I see sex everywhere—in looks, in gestures—and I tell myself that if I’m nice like that, people will love me more. Sometimes it tires me out, but I can’t stop; it’s like a need that sticks to my skin.

I’m a bit weird; even I don’t always understand myself. I like boys and girls, and I like it when people tell me what to do—it makes me feel warm in my belly, like a little fire lighting up. During the day, I work in a clothing store; I fold soft sweaters and smile at people, even those who aren’t nice to me. I wear skirts that dance around my legs and buttoned-up blouses, like a good little girl.

But at night, I become another Chloé, one who does grown-up things. I pose for photographers, I show my body, and sometimes, I do naughtier things. I get on my knees, I take it in my mouth, and I swallow everything, like a big girl who wants to please. I’m a little whore, it’s true, but I tell myself it’s just my body doing it, not my heart, so it’s not too bad, right? It gives me a bit of money, and I like it, even though afterward, I’m all sad and feel like crying. I feel like crying because I feel empty, as if I’ve given everything I have and there’s nothing left for me except a few bills. I feel used, not loved, just a toy people pick up and put down, and it hurts me, even if I still smile afterward.

I started modeling a long time ago because my older sister does it too. She’s so beautiful, so strong, and I wanted to be like her, so I said yes to the photos. At first, it was just pretty dresses, but now it’s all naughty, and I love it! I like showing myself off, knowing that men look at me and get hard because of me. It makes me feel grown-up and powerful, even though deep down, I’m still a little girl who likes cuddles and candy. My sister is everything to me; I admire her so much, but sometimes, she wants me all to herself. When we pose together, our bodies brush against each other, and I feel strange things, like I want to touch her more than I should. It’s not just sisterly love; it’s stronger, and it troubles me, but I can’t help it.

Since I was sixteen, I’ve been living with my Master. He’s forty-four now, a big man, and he’s the one who taught me everything. He took me when I was still a little girl and showed me how to be his toy that he can move however he wants. He’s strong, he decides, and I like to say yes because when I say yes, he’s happy, and that makes me happy too. He’s a candaulist, which means he likes it when I go with others, but he doesn’t watch, which is funny, isn’t it? He prefers that I tell him about it afterward, like a bedtime story. He wants to know everything, every little detail, but he says it’s more exciting if he’s not there, like a secret whispered to him. I do it because I think it’s normal, that this is how men and women love each other. I’ve never known anything else, so I say yes to everything he wants. But sometimes, he’s mean to me, even if I haven’t done anything wrong. He beats me with his belt, hard on my little butt, when I forget to tell him a naughty story. The leather is heavy and cold at first, but when he hits, it burns my skin, leaving red lines that sting for hours. It hurts, it hurts so much that I cry silently, and yet, I ask for his forgiveness afterward, as if it were my fault. It scares me, but at the same time, it brings me closer to him because I want him to love me even more. Afterward, I’m even nicer to him. I cuddle him, I tell him I love him because I want him to be happy, and I love him very much, even when he hurts me.

One day, my Master encouraged me to do an erotic photo shoot, as he likes me to do with others. He said, “Go, have fun, and come back to tell me about it.” That’s how I met Bill.

It was in a studio with Natacha, another model I knew through my sister. Natacha is tall, with flaming red hair, and next to her, I’m tiny and pale. She had invited me to this session, and I was nervous, as always. Bill welcomed us with a warm smile. His eyes shone with kindness, and I immediately felt my heart flutter.

Natacha introduced me. “This is Chloé; she’s shy but adorable.”

I extended a trembling hand, he shook it gently, and I murmured “Nice to meet you” while blushing. The studio was filled with lights and naughty accessories—handcuffs, collars, pieces of fabric. Bill wanted a session where Natacha would play the dominatrix and I the submissive. I like to obey, so it pleased me. Natacha ordered me to take off my coat and sit on a leather armchair. I obeyed, my light dress floating around my legs, and Bill started taking pictures. Natacha placed her hand on my shoulder, firm and reassuring, and I stared at the lens with my big green eyes, a bit lost but excited.

Then, the poses got naughtier. Natacha sat on the armchair, and I was at her feet, my head on her knees, like a good little girl. She took my hair and pulled a little to show my white neck.

Bill said, “Kiss her.”

My heart jumped in my chest.

Natacha leaned in, and her lips touched mine. It was soft, like a princess’s kiss, and I closed my eyes. Her tongue found mine, and I felt a little fire in my belly. I liked it, even though I was a bit scared. We kissed for a long time, a very long time. Her mouth was warm, and our tongues danced together, like they were playing hide-and-seek. I felt her breath on my skin, and it gave me shivers everywhere. I forgot about my Master, lost in this endless kiss. My hands trembled a little, and I wanted to touch her, but I didn’t dare too much. She put her hand on my cheek, and we kept going, on and on, until I was all warm and breathless.

We did other poses where we touched each other, showing our bodies. Natacha said, “Get on all fours, Chloé, and crawl toward me.”

I obeyed because I like to be good. My dress rode up, and I felt the air on my skin, making me shiver. I crawled slowly, like a little kitten, and Natacha looked at me with a naughty smile. Then, she got next to me, and we both showed our butts to Bill.

He said, “Say dirty things.”

So, Natacha said, “Look at our little asses, Bill, do you want to touch them? Do you want to take us like bad girls?”

And I said, “I’m a little slut, I want you to fuck me hard with your big cock!”

I was all red saying that, but it excited me, and I felt my body getting all hot.

After a while, Bill suggested a break. “How about a glass of wine?”

Natacha said, “Yes.” And so did I. “Yes.”

We toasted, and the wine was sweet, like honey. It warmed my belly, and I felt lighter, like I was floating. We talked, we laughed, and I felt good, almost like I was at home. When we resumed the session, everything was even more intense. We posed in very light outfits, just small pieces of fabric that barely hid anything. Our bodies brushed against each other, our hands slid over our skin. In one pose, Natacha was sitting with her legs spread, and I was on my knees in front of her, like a little submissive.

Bill said, “Touch her, Chloé.”

I hesitated, but I put my hand between her legs, where it’s all soft and warm. She moaned, and I felt my heart beat faster.

Then, she said, “Lick me.” And I put my tongue on her sex, very gently. She moaned even more, and I felt my own sex getting all wet. We caressed each other’s breasts, kissed each other everywhere, and I even fingered her a little, like a big girl. Bill was taking photos, and I could see in his eyes that he liked it. I liked it too, even though I’m a good girl… or almost.

The session ended very late. We were tired but happy. Bill said, “Stay here to sleep; it’s too late to go back.”

We said yes, and we went to his room. There was a big bed, and we all slipped in: Natacha on one side, Bill in the middle, and me on the other. Natacha fell asleep quickly, breathing softly like a baby. But I couldn’t sleep. Neither could Bill, I think.

We started playing a syllable game Natacha had suggested before falling asleep. Lying there, Bill in the middle, me on my stomach on one side, Natacha on the other, he placed his left hand on my right buttock and his right hand on Natacha’s left buttock. I was a bit surprised at first, but I liked it. His hand was warm, and he caressed my butt gently while the other hand kneaded Natacha’s. She made a few funny puns before falling asleep, her hand still in his. But we weren’t sleeping. In the dark, our eyes met, and then our hands did too, under the sheets.

He kept caressing my little butt, very gently, like a feather, and I shivered. I loved the softness of his fingers on my skin, and my body liked it—it responded on its own. I lifted my hips a little so he could touch me better, to tell him I was okay with it. He understood, and it made me smile in the dark. We kept playing the syllable game, and I slipped him clever little words to guide his hand. It was fun and exciting, and I could feel it excited him too. Our lips touched, and we kissed silently so as not to wake Natacha. It was passionate, like a dream. Our tongues sought each other, found each other, and I felt my body melting against his. I wanted him so much, and my heart was beating hard, hard, hard. We kissed for a long time, and I didn’t want it to stop.

Then, his hand slipped between my thighs. He caressed my sex through my panties, and I felt myself getting all wet. He pulled down my panties, and his fingers touched my pussy directly. It was smooth, soft, and soaked. He put one finger in, then two, then three, and I felt open, excited. The more he touched me, the wetter I got, almost dripping. I liked it, and I could see in his eyes that he liked it too. After that, he wedged his beautiful cock between my buttocks, still in his boxers, and we rubbed against each other. I moved my hips to feel his hardness against me, and it was good, but we were very careful not to make noise.

His hand slipped under my nightgown; he touched my small breasts, and I felt my nipples getting hard.

“You’re so soft, Chloé,” he murmured, and I blushed in the dark.

Then, he took his big cock out of his boxers, and I felt it against my sex and my butt. My heart was beating even faster, and I had a crazy desire for him.

I whispered that we could go upstairs, that I had condoms, but he said, “We might wake Natacha.” We stayed there, and then I decided to go under the covers. I took his beautiful cock in my mouth, very gently. I like doing that, even though I’m not very good at it, I think.

First, I played with his glans, licking it gently with the tip of my tongue, then I took it all in, letting his big cock slide to the back of my throat. He put his hand on my head to guide me, and I could feel he liked it. I sucked him awkwardly, my lips tight around him, moving my hand on his cock at the same time, very slowly so as not to make noise. Natacha was sleeping right next to us, her breathing steady in the silence, and I was careful with every movement, every little sound I might make. I felt his cock getting even harder, and I swallowed it deeper until my eyes watered a bit. He came in my mouth, a warm flood that surprised me, and I swallowed it all, like a good girl, without a sound, wiping my lips with my tongue afterward.

I came back up next to him, and we looked into each other’s eyes. He caressed my mouth with his fingers, and I took his thumb to suck it, as if it were his cock. Meanwhile, he gently squeezed my throat with his other hand, and it was intense, strong, almost crazy. But we didn’t want to go further, not to wake Natacha.

He whispered, “We should stop, or I’ll take you too hard.” I didn’t say anything; I just looked at him and gave him a quick little kiss with tongue that made me shiver. After that, I got out of bed, still all excited, and went upstairs to smoke a cigarette to calm my desire. When I came back, Bill was already asleep. I snuggled up against him; my little heart was racing, but I was happy, like a doll that had been well caressed.

We fell asleep like that, stuck together, with our little secret. In the morning, when the sun rose, we said goodbye. Bill shook my hand, and in his eyes, I saw that he wanted to see me again. I wanted to see him again too, but at the same time, I was thinking about my Master. I felt a bit naughty, a bit guilty. My heart was all mixed up.

I really like Bill; I think about him all the time—his soft hands, his smile, his beautiful cock that I sucked even though I wasn’t very good at it. But I love my Master too, and I don’t want him to be sad. So, I keep all this in my head, like a secret that hurts me but also makes me feel alive. I’m a little doll who does naughty things, and I know I’ll do it again because it’s stronger than me. Sometimes, I cry alone because I don’t know what to do. I want to be good for my Master, but Bill makes me feel special, and it gives me butterflies in my stomach. Maybe I’m a bad girl forever, but I can’t help it, and it scares me and pleases me at the same time.