Ch. 8 CBD- Diary of a Broken Me #ASMSG #Erotica

If you missed the first 7 chapters … start from the beginning of  The Chat Box Dominant: Diary of a Broken Me.  (Ch. 8 originally posted for the Erotica Holiday Countdown)  Please note this will be the last publicized full chapter available in this section.  The first of the three books will be up for editing next week, and hopefully on Amazon by the end of March! HOLY COW! 🙂

Diary of a Broken Me

Santa starts off poorly, but finishes strong!


Dear Santa,

You just turned my entire life upside down,

Holy cow!

You really have to work on your approach to things.  You can’t spring it on a broken girl that you would like her to give up her whole fucking life, leaving behind her family and friends, and move across that big ass pond, to serve your every whim as your 24/7 slave.

That’s what the contract said.

The contract that you disguised as a Christmas present. You, who pretends to be Santa for kids every year at your toy store, sure have no idea what I wanted for Christmas! I was kidding about wanting to be on the naughty list!

ShitFuckDamnPissAndHell, Sir.

I was so not expecting it, and I overreacted, for that I’m truly sorry. And I’m not apologizing because  you spanked me. I’m apologizing because you didn’t deserve that, Sir.

I love you and Cynthia, but we hadn’t even talked about anything beyond this visit, Sir. Cynthia looked so hurt by my reaction, and we both ended up shedding tears together. You were so angry you had to leave the house for a bit. I ruined our first Christmas, which may be our only Christmas together, after my behavior.

I flipped out, we all screamed. A few vases, and I think one plate was shattered. Thankfully the children were with your parents for the afternoon, so we could have an adult Christmas, I had no idea how adult it was going to be, nor the childish way it was to end.

I’m not sure I can pack up my life, and forget those I love and care about. You and your wife are  the only people I even know over here, and how safe or sane is it for me to want to move half-way across the world after only one, three-week visit?


Even after you dealt out my harsh, yet deserved spanking, we fucked like rabbits, and I’m still having doubts, Sir. Not about you or Cynthia or us. I’m having doubts about you wanting me— past this three weeks.

I’m doubting me. Seriously doubting me.

They always find a reason not to want me, this is why I’m broken.

Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not sexy enough, or not Emo enough? Or Perhaps… not Masochistic enough, not a big enough slut, too slutty, too sexy, and last but not least… too Emo.  Seriously I’ve heard it all, Sir.  Pick your poison. Which one of those do I not fulfill for you, or maybe it’s more than one.


You ordered me to write exactly what I’m feeling, and the answer’s OVERWHELMED!

You pushed too hard, too fast, too much…I say too much!!

Damn, damn, damn it, Sir. I can’t stop thinking about the end. Six months of us working on our Master-slave relationship. Six months of you looming over the broken pieces of me, and putting them back together carefully, and one three-week visit has changed it all. I want to stop writing right now, and pack up my things, and sneak out in the middle of the night. I’m not going too, but I want to— You’ve no idea how much I want to go, before I ruin both our lives.

I’ve told you everything! No matter how much I gave of myself to my past owners, no one has ever loved me forever.  And Sir, you won’t either. See that’s the problem, you already have someone you’ve vowed to love, and I just can’t see you loving us both, forever.

Fucked up, I know…I told you that, Sir.  This isn’t brand new Maci day. I thought I was healing, but obviously I was wrong judging by my reactions today. Maybe I’m just too broken to be fixed, Sir. I’m just going to end up bringing us all down.

Don’t you see how wrong my way of thinking is, and yes I know it’s all part of who I am, but how can you love those things about me, Sir? I need you to explain this to me, please?

P.S. Up until I opened that gift this has been the best time I’ve had in my life, I thought you should know. I also think you should know, I truly believe you two love me, and I love you as much as I can love anyone, being as broken as I am.

I feel like tomorrow maybe we should discuss this as adults, and maybe sleeping will help to easy my worries and my mind, and we’ll all wake up with a better sense of things.

I keep mentioning three weeks, but it’s only been two, and it’s another week till the New Year. You really want me to stay after today?

You, contract creator— have you lost your mind with these rules?

You want me to sleep chained to the foot of your bed at night? Where the hell do you think I’m gonna go?

I have to ask permission for money? I’m not a child. That rule is ridiculous.

Crap…you’re stirring. Maybe I should pretend to be a sleep? Nah…brb. I’m going to talk to you.

Wish me luck! Ha Ha!

Dear naughty elf of mine,

You and I just had a very long discussion, you’re now sleeping, and I thought for a change I would write a little note to you.

You’ve dated, loved, and have been owned by serious idiots. Those blokes didn’t obviously see the beauty you have inside and out.

And you don’t either— you dumb broad.

It’s really not a good thing, baby. We’ve talked about the way you doubt yourself, and how it upsets me. I’m going to have to start punishing you each and every time you show doubt. You will learn to trust yourself, and trust in me.

One day you’ll stop blaming yourself and realize it was them. The sad part is, I think you know it, but you just want to protect yourself.

Fucking stop it. That’s my job.

Maci, I love you.

I told my fucking wife about you while we were on a family vacation. You would think that would be enough to show you how much I care, but I didn’t stop there. I convinced my wife that having a conversation with you would make her realize why I love you.

I’ll be damned if I wasn’t right, she loved you as much as I did, and still do, both of us still do darling. You’re my princess, and I’m not letting you go that easily. I read what you said above, but you had to know I wasn’t going to just take no for an answer? We both worked too fucking hard to get here, didn’t we?

Yes, we did.

I knew you weren’t asleep yet, I heard you sniffling. I also knew that you weren’t going to sleep if I didn’t do something about it. I good cry and a good cum, should do the trick!

Now…I’ve busted your ass once more, turned your already tender and pink bottom into a nice lovely knotted and bruised surface, and then I made love to you on the soft-fur rug in front of the fireplace. I left you curled up there to write you this note, but I’m going back to wrap you in the safety of my arms, and sleep with you for the night.

This isn’t our last Christmas, and you didn’t ruin it. You made it the most spectacular Christmas ever. I got to spank my beautiful slave girl’s ass, and I got to fuck the two most beautiful women. How could that be a ruined Christmas?

Moving here after 2 weeks is completely insane, and if you had made it to the bottom of the contract, you would have realized it didn’t take effect until exactly 1 year to the date it’s signed. That gives us all time to adjust, and time to fit into our perspective roles with one another.

You will need to work less, I will arrange this, but we have time to discuss it all. I plan to prove to you that you do deserve to be loved unconditionally, my slave.

I love you Maci. Chipped, slightly cracked, gently used; I love everything about you, my sweet broken baby girl…deal with it.

Your owner,


Penelope Jones

Copyright 2013

Ch. 4 Chat Box Dominant: Diary of a Broken Me

Diary of a Broken Me

Anticipation’s a bitch I despise: Fuck me!


Dear Lucas,


Yes, I just called you Lucas.

And I hope that as I write you this journal post, you’re reading my email where I tell you to go fuck yourself.

I thought I meant it…

You stood me up for our Skype date. Sending me an email to explain why.


Giving me instructions on how to proceed with the week, since you have extended your vacation.

Really? You think I’m just going to do what you say after that?

Why do I let you do these things to me? Because I think I love you— you asshole!


Now that I have that off my chest, your email was quite lovely and apologetic. That doesn’t change the fact you waited until it was time for us to be on Skype to send it. That said you didn’t care enough to know it would hurt me tremendously that you canceled. It also said you thought so little of me that you waited until I was already ready, and prepared for you to call off our meeting.

Right, so you were an asshole, and now I’m being bitchy, and I feel horrible, Sir. You’ve never once made me feel unimportant or useless to you, until that email.


(my phone’s ringing. I’ll brb, Sir)



Umm… well I’m back obviously.

It was you on the phone, Sir. You just read my email. And although you see my point of view, you’re not happy at all about the way I handled things.


Let’s also include that we have NEVER spoken on the phone until that conversation.

I nearly peed myself when I realized it was you, Sir. Your voice sounds even more dreamy in person, than in those recorded messages we have been sending to one another. I miss you so much, Sir.


So, you apologized again, and explained further why you must stay over another week. I wish you had said those things in the email, Sir. But then again, if you had, then I never would’ve had the pleasure of speaking with you for an entire 30 minutes. Gosh… I know that conversation cost you a pretty penny. However, you only have yourself to blame for the money well spent, if you ask me.

Sir… you told me you loved me tonight. It’s the first time you said those words to me out loud, or typed them in a chat-box either. I can’t tell you how happy that made me feel.

But then you said, “My wife and I had a discussion regarding you before I rang you.”

I couldn’t even wrap my head around this enough to talk to you about it.


You told your wife? Why would you do that, Sir? Is she going to call me now? Is she coming to the states to hunt me down? I’m not trying to break up your happy home. I’m not a home-wrecker, Sir.


We neither one wanted to spend our time talking about those issues. You’ve even promised to call me again this week. Sir… I hate fighting with you, but if the end results are you realizing that the broken me really needs you, then I guess I can deal with a few tiffs here and there. I hope you’re up for the same, since you dragged out of me how much I truly care of you as well, Sir.

I’m going to tell you again, just in case you might have missed something with the iffy connection we had at times, Sir.

I love you. I’m not sure when it happened, but I do know how it happened. You cared enough about me to let me be me, Sir. Even with all the times I’ve told you to take a hike, you still continued to fight for me, for us. Thank you for that, Sir.

Again tonight, you proved you’re willing to fight for us, willing to risk your reality for mine. That’s pretty amazing, Sir.


No one’s supposed to be able to get past my walls, yet you have broken down almost all of them, and left me vulnerable. I feel exposed, scared, and weak, Sir. I know I shouldn’t, what we shared should’ve been freeing, but instead it has me wanting to shut this chapter in my life, and pretend we never met.


You and I both know that isn’t possible, I’m too invested, and so are you at this point. You told your fucking wife, Sir.

I think you must have known how much stress this trip of yours has put upon me, Sir. You’re being quite generous, and aren’t making me fulfill any of those things in the email you sent tonight, and you’re calling me in two days.

You also are coming home three days ahead of the email schedule you sent me. I’m pretty sure due to my melt down.

Sir… I’m scared to talk to you about this, but I know if I don’t do it here, I won’t have the guts to tell you when I know your response could come in seconds, IE: the chat-box etc.

If your wife made you picked between her and I; I’d never let you choose me, just so you know. I think you should be aware of that, before you end up alone. I cannot be the reason your happy home’s broken, Sir. Your children deserve better than some two-bit hooker that horned in on their reality, and made it a nightmare, Sir.

I think maybe I should go to bed, and write you more tomorrow. I’m not thinking clearly, and honestly I’ve written enough to make your head swim already.

I want you to know, no matter what happens… I won’t regret meeting you, or knowing you, or loving you, or being owned by you, even if it’s only for this short amount of time. I’m a better person for it, Sir. And I think you know the broken me… is better for it also.

I’m not anticipating our conversation on Wednesday… I think I might even be dreading it.


I love you more than I fucking should,