My name is Alice, and I am Daddy’s Good Girl. Here is my story.

I have always been chubby and not very pretty. In high school, if you aren’t anorexic, you are fat, and I was always considered a “fat girl”. When I started to mature, I grew big boobs, so I became known as the “fat girl with big boobs”. My boobs started to make me attractive to some of the guys, and most of my dates were with guys that wanted to feel my boobs.

On one of those dates, the guy convinced me to put his cock in my mouth. I liked how he reacted, so I decided to get good at sucking cock. And I did. That changed my label to the “fat slut with big boobs that sucks cocks”. I guess I sucked a lot of cocks in high school. Everyone knew it. Most guys didn’t even bother to try to get into my pants, but one guy did, and I was fucked for the first time. I liked it, a lot, so I let any guy that wanted to fuck me. I would suck his cock but would make him fuck me to finish. So when this got around school, my label changed again to just “that slut”.

Once I got caught with a bunch of condoms in my purse. My Mom called me a slut (confirming what the kids at high school called me), and my dad called me a whore and then paddled my bare ass. That’s the most he ever paid attention to me. I cried, and it hurt, but it also made me wet. I was puzzled by that. Why did I get horny from a paddling?

When high school was over, I got a job, and the bad girl in me got badder. I learned to smoke, drink, smoke weed, and become more of a slut. I got my first ass-fucking when I was in my early 20s. It hurt like hell, but I learned to get used to it and even like it a little. It was dirty, and I was a dirty girl. My oral aptitude expanded as well. I finally learned how to deep throat, which made me VERY popular, especially with the hung guys. I joined different porn websites and advertised my skills. It was on one of those websites where I hooked up with my first black cock. They say “once you go black, you never go back,” but I did go back and still drank plenty of white cum from white cocks.

I seemed to like the rough guys the most, and when a guy first throat-fucked me, I liked it. Pretty soon, I was hooking up with the roughest guys and was getting throat-fucked, slapped, spanked, and tit-slapped. I also learned to give rim jobs and ass-to-mouth. I liked it all.

By the time I was in my mid-30s, I was doing cam shows as well as hooking up with guys in hotel rooms. Then I got into humiliation. I would dress up like a pig, crawl around on all fours and oink, let them piss on me, and generally humiliate me in any way they wanted. I got a lot of attention but didn’t really feel good about myself. And I had no long-term relationship in my life. I was feeling an empty spot inside and was starting to think that I would be a single humiliation-cock-slut for the rest of my life.

I had a lot of “friends” on the porn social media sites and I chatted with many of them. For the ones that lived close enough, I would often offer to hook up with them. It was on one of those sites where I first met Daddy. Of course, he didn’t call himself Daddy. His tag was “Master of Women,” which intrigued me. My chats with him were different. He didn’t come across as a horn dog whose only interest was convincing me to drink his cock fluids. He asked about my life, my job, what I liked to do when I wasn’t sucking cocks, what life was like growing up, etc. He seemed to want to get to know me. I enjoyed this non-sexual attention and was always happy to see him online.

We did talk about what I was doing with other men and had done. I felt comfortable enough to open up with him and told him about things I had done that I was ashamed of. But he never wanted to talk about what I wanted to do for him, even when I tried to steer the conversation in that direction.

One day, he started our conversation in a different way. “You’ve been a bad girl for a long time and you seem to like it. Do you think you have what it takes to be a Good Girl?” I paused before replying. I noticed that he had capitalized Good Girl. I was intrigued. “What do you consider a good girl?” I asked.

He corrected me. “Good Girl, not good girl. In fact, the proper term is “Daddy’s Good Girl”. A Good Girl is simply “good”. She behaves like a lady, does what her Daddy tells her to do, and pleases him in any way she can. She only dates men that Daddy approves of. She gets rewards when she is good and is punished when she misbehaves.”

I had a mixed reaction to his answer. I was amused, uncomfortable, and turned on, all at the same time. I didn’t pursue the topic at that time, but my curiosity wouldn’t let me leave it alone. I started asking questions in the chats with him.

“What do you consider ladylike behavior?”

“A Lady dresses conservatively and is polite, never swears, does not smoke or drink, keeps her house clean and tidy, and adores her Daddy.”

“Well, that certainly counts me out.”

“Not necessarily. You could be taught.”

“You mentioned rewards. What are those?”

“Sometimes they are gifts. Other times you are rewarded with intimate pleasure.”

“Can you provide details?”

“No, not at this time. If you were to apply to become Daddy’s Good Girl, I would give you a demonstration of a reward and a punishment.”

“How does a girl apply?”

“We need to meet in a public place, and I would explain the details.”

There was that wetness again, and I found myself fingering my clit. I tried to put the whole topic out of my mind, but it kept coming back. I found myself masturbating about the concept of being a Good Girl instead of a bad girl. I finally admitted to myself that I wasn’t happy in the role of a bad girl and that I wanted a Daddy, and I wanted him to be pleased with me. It was a hard admission.

I was used to hooking up with guys for sex, so meeting Daddy in a public place was no big deal. I decided to satisfy my curiosity and find out more about this so-called “application process”.

We arranged to meet at a coffee shop. I got there early, got a table, and watched the parking lot to see if I could spot him. I was made up and wore a low-cut sweater that showed off my cleavage. He had been very forthcoming about his appearance in his profile. About 6 feet tall, a little overweight, 60 years old, with gray hair. With that description, I was able to spot him walking in from the parking lot.