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A Slave's Diary

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Praefectus Praetorio

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
January 17, 2019

My master has asked me to start keeping a diary of my slavery. He explained that he was asking, not ordering. He owns my body, not my mind. He enjoys when I am independent; he loves my strength. He is challenged to overcome it. He admires my writing. So, I begin.

A cold day, partly sunny, high about 40°. My master is off on business today so no ‘action' to report. I am divided on a day like this. I cherish the time I can be to myself and run every bit of my life. I feel so strong. But I desire him to hurt me, I long for an opportunity to endure and resist. He will be back tomorrow.
 
January 18, 2019

Today cold rain and drizzle, high 38°. Though I’ve lived with this weather most of my life, it still was dreary and depressing.

Master returned just before noon. You can see the end of his drive, about 50 yards down the lane, from the window seat in my front bay window.

I dutifully went about my work (I’m self-employed) and chores through the afternoon. But no word. I was so frustrated waiting! Now that he was back, I cared not a whit for my independence. I just wanted to be his slave again. Finally, at 6:15, a text “home – see you in the morning, be ready.”

Damn! I was so looking forward to getting together. But he is the one who decides that.

[M – I told Dina, I would comment when necessary in her diary – it is not private from me. I am disappointed to read that you were looking for me from your front window. The rules are clear: you may not request my presence or act in any way to anticipate it until I inform you. There will be punishment for this.]

{I am sorry Master. I deserve the punishment. I will try not to forget again. – D}

I must always address my master in private as “Master.” In public, I am, of course, to address him by his name as if we are just old. acquaintances. He does the same. In private, he calls me Dina, short for Blandine, an early Christian Martyr. I am flattered that he chose such a woman, a slave, as my namesake. However, I know I could never have withstood the tortures she did. But I try.
 
Saturday, January 19, 2019

Some sun, some rain, high 41°.

Master came over at 9:00 AM sharp. I knew to expect him then. He is strictly punctual. Morning means 9:00 AM, noon is noon, afternoon means 3:00 PM, evening is 6:00 PM, and night is 9:00 PM. I have these memorized. He says it has something to do with how the Romans kept time. I mean to look that up. I don’t have much of an education, but I love learning. Master knows so much! I love learning from him.

Master gave me a hug and a nice kiss. Then he instructed me to get the table tennis bat. (oh, oh!)

The bat is much lighter than any of our paddles and therefore doesn’t cause as much bruising (hardly any at all). The smack of the surface on my ass does hurt a good bit and makes it red fast. But what I hate about this bat is the second surface. The one side is just polished wood. The other is covered by a kind of emery paper. This scratches my skin.

I brought the paddle back and grabbed my ankles as instructed. Master flipped my skirt up to bare my ass.

He gave me ten strokes with the emery paper side, using his trick of sweeping his hand across so that the surface pulled a little across my skin to scratch. By the time he was finished, I thought he had taken off my skin.

Master stood me up and gave me a hug and a kiss. Then he said he was leaving; he’ll be back noon tomorrow – this was part of my punishment.

All afternoon and evening my ass hurt so bad even with cream on it. But it was worse that I was alone. It was Saturday and I had looked so forward to time with Master. I cried a lot.
 
Sunday, January 20, 2019

Today was a little warmer sunny and clouds, high 43°.

I am going to be a better slave today. I should not have cried yesterday. I deserved the punishment and should have just accepted it. But I did miss Master so much.

This morning I looked up that Roman hour thing. It was easy! I just typed “roman hours” into Google and it came right up. The Roman soldiers used “watches,” they called them “vigils” of three hours at a time. Master is so smart. I am very thankful that he teaches me so much.

Master came over at noon sharp.

Master decides on a reading day, he says he needs to catch up since his trip. We go to the play room, I undress and lay on the table on my back. Master cuffs my wrists and ankles and pulls the cords tight so I am firmly stretched. Then Master goes to his favorite easy chair facing me, and begins to read.

I am not allowed to close my eyes or go to sleep. I must be alert and ready. Often, Master finds something he thinks I would enjoy or benefit from learning. After hearing it read out loud, I must repeat back as accurately as possible. I love this. I have a wonderful memory and can almost always repeat perfectly. And I learn such wonderful things! Master will sometimes choose something hard to trip me up, but I rarely make a mistake. If I do, I am punished.

Occasionally, Master will get up to stretch and give me five to ten with his single tail. Mostly on my boobies and stomach. Sometimes on my hips and cunt. I never make a sound. Master sometimes threatens that I will get more strokes if I cry out, but usually not. No matter, I am too strong to cry.

You might think that I get bored with this. I do not. I am concentrating my mind the whole time, thinking of what it would be like to be one of those Christian Martyrs, waiting for the torturers. I cannot move; I cannot speak; I have lost all my independence; I have no decisions to make. I am waiting for my Master’s will! I often get wet.

When it was evening (6:00 PM sharp) Master released me and we ate the cold dinner I had prepared earlier. Then we made love. I was so horny from the time on the table, I think I made it good for Master; it definitely was very good for me!

[M – it was very good, Dina]
 
Monday, January 21, 2019

Today was cloudy with some rain coming down this evening, high 43°.

Master told me yesterday he would not see me for two days. It is a relief. I’m not waiting or longing for him. Today is my grocery day, so I’m off to Co-op Food on Market street to pick up my messages. I love cooking. It has nothing to do with being a ‘traditional’ girl. It is a way I create independently! To take a bunch of foods and spices and tools, and use them to create a dish at the end that really fulfills me. Master likes my cooking, but doesn’t really understand it. I like that. He understands so much, this is one of the things that I understand!

Let me tell you a little about myself. I am 24 and ½ years old (my birthday is June 2). I am 5’5” 127 lbs. (well, to be honest, I’m often 135 – it’s not easy). I have an average face and figure. I’m not particularly attractive to men, but I guess I’m OK.

This is the “day after.” When Master has punished me and leaves me alone the next day. It is the greatest feeling. I love to touch the welts from yesterday, remember the pain, remember how I let him do that. Master never forces me! I let him! I have the power! I wish to have him in control!

I walk the aisles looking at the groceries and feeling my welts. People look at me, but no one sees the true slave. I am so proud! I decide I will make Boeuf Bourguignon.



Whew! Not again for a long time. It turned out really good! But I slaved (he-he) on it for over three hours. They had tins of Princes Beef Stew for £1.67 at the Co-op. With some crusty bread, that ain’t bad. (Oops, Master says never to say ain’t, it sounds common) With some crusty bread, that isn’t bad! I did lay up three nice helpings in the freezer.
 
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Tuesday, January 22, 2019

Today it was cooler and cloudy and a little snow. 32° this evening, some ice is forming.

I cannot help it. Knowing tomorrow, Master will be here makes me tingle with anticipation. I am spending the day (between all the real life work I have) willing myself to be more submissive. To be the perfect slave. Sometimes I think all our desires: sex, food, survival, companionship, are not as big as the greatest - power. The need to have my will be done. (Not God’s, as we learn when we pray!) We pursue it differently, from full-on knocking others around to laying on the guilt, like my Ma was (is still!) so good at. Master calls that “passive-aggressive”. (I need to look that up). I think we are all that little defiant child, crossing her arms, stomping her foot, sticking out her lower lip and insisting “NO!”

That is why it can be so wonderful to be submissive. Master says, “The greatest victory is to subdue your own will!” God, he’s SO smart!

I have been a slave for 417 days (I know because I write it every day on my calendar, I’m not sharp with numbers, but I can count with the best of ‘em). I became Master’s slave on December 1, 2017. The greatest day of my life. Some time I'll tell you about the ceremony! I am such a lucky girl!
 
Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Today it was mostly cloudy with occasional cold rain, high 38°.

Master will be coming this afternoon (3PM). I can hardly wait. I really can’t get much work done. All I can think of is what will he do to me? I am using all my slavegirl willpower to keep from sitting in the window seat to look for him. But, if I did, he might leave right away – I couldn’t stand that!

At 2:30, (Master says one-half hour is a decent time for preparation – girls shouldn’t go overboard, their natural beauty should “suffice”. I’m sure mine doesn’t, but I obey him) I put on my outfit and fix my hair. It is straight and mousy brown, so not much can be fixed. But I do what I can.

At 2:55, I was standing by the front door wearing the required outfit to greet my master. I’m so glad he doesn’t want me to wear silly maid costumes or anything that a little girl would wear. And no diaphanous lingerie; that is so far from my style. I would feel silly not sexy in either. No, my standard outfit is a white button front oxford shirt and a plaid skirt, with nothing underneath and barefoot.

Master knows that a girl likes to have some choice in her clothes, so he allows me some freedom with the skirt. Any color or pattern as long as an authentic tartan (Master is a super big stickler for authentic). Length, anywhere from 4 inches above my knee to three inches below my crotch (he says higher would be vulgar!).

At 3:00, Master knocked on the door (He is very proper. Though he has a key and as Master, he may enter whenever he wishes, Master always knocks politely and waits for me to invite him in.) I let him in and took his coat. He gave me a very nice hug and a kiss.

We went to the play room, he had me get naked and he spent 2 hours giving me dog training lessons. I crawl around on all fours with him holding my leash and a dog whip (and shit! that whip really hurts!). I must practice all the commands many times so that it is instinctive to obey. I even have to drink from my bowl. Two hours of this and my butt and my knees are very sore! At the end, he sat in his easy chair and I cuddled on his lap as he petted me and said what a good slave I was. That was wonderful!

Then we had some Boeuf Bourguignon with a baguette I’d bought at the Co-op. Master said it was excellent and praised me for being so clever to make it. That was wonderful!

Then we made love. Master teases me that I get as horny from good food as a good whipping! Actually, he’s right, I was really horny and the sex was wonderful!

But the best part of the day was when he told me how clever I was to make the Boeuf Bourguignon dinner!
 
Thursday, January 24, 2019

Today it was warmer but rainy, high 43°.

Today, I get to go to Master’s house. We have a rule that I don’t go there more than one day a week. Master says its so that I don’t get scars from too frequent whipping. He’s right of course, but I would love to see if I could stand two days in a row in his dungeon!

When it’s cold or wet like today, there is no problem going to Master’s – I just wear a long overcoat over my required outfit. In the summer, it can be more of a challenge to go unnoticed.

I knocked. When Master answered the door, he politely asked me in and took my coat and hung it up carefully in his hallway closet.

Then he took me by the hand (as he always does – like escorting a Duchess into the Opera) and led my down to the dungeon. As usual, my pussy was getting wet.

He had me stand in the middle of the room, where the lights are brightest and slowly turn around.

“You are beautiful,” he said. I know he just says it to be nice, but it makes me feel SO good!

He then asked me to slowly strip off my shirt. I know how much he likes this so I take my time and make it very teasing as I flash my boobies and then cover and then again. When it’s off, he takes my shirt and puts it on a hanger.

“I think we will leave the skirt on today, Dina.”

Then he led me over to the “X” cross, place my back against it and carefully bound my wrists and ankles. He went to the cabinet and came back with the buggy whip! I hate that – and I love it! It hurts SO bad so badly that it sometimes makes me cum. And I know that today he will use it on my soft boobies.

Master is very good with a whip. He practices a lot. On me and on a stuffed dummy he has. He tells me he doesn’t practice on other girls and I believe him. My Master is very honest.

He begins on my tummy, snapping the light whipcord against my skin. I grunt at the first lash. But I am silent after that. I want to go the whole session without a cry – it would be the first time.

Master takes his time between lashes, he says to help me endure and conquer. Every ten or so, he pauses and comes to kiss me or to stroke my cheek and tell me what a good slave I am. That excites me almost as much as the whip itself.

Before long I am sweating heavily and the pain is getting really bad. Especially when the whip hits the same place twice.

Then he moves to my breasts. I don’t know about other slavegirls, but my boobies are really sensitive. When he lands a hard stroke on the soft underside, I jump in my ties, but I remain silent!!

It is hurting more and more and my pussy is getting very wet. I clamp my jaw tight to keep from crying. But it just keeps coming over and over. And now more were landing on the tips; my nipples are really sensitive!! But it must be near the end and I won’t cry out!

But then a hard snap hits my right nipple and I’m blinded with tears. Before I can breathe enough to regain my will, another hits the same nipple and I scream. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even know I was going to. It just tore out of my throat. And that was that. For the rest, (about a dozen more) I screamed bloody hell, as my cunt drooled with cum.

Then Master came and kissed me all over my face as his hand went under my skirt and played with my dripping pussy. I loved the kisses, but I really wanted him to untie me so I could jump on his dick and fuck him like crazy! Eventually he did; and I did!



I humbly apologize to my readers that this was so long. Master has told me to keep my diary entries short, “Brevity is the Soul of Wit,” he says. But I just had to tell you all that so you would understand me.
 
Friday, January 25, 2019

Today was even warmer and cloudy with a little midday rain, high 52°.

After a dungeon day like yesterday, we may not have any ‘action’. But today, Master took me out for lunch! We went just like friends on a date. Master suggested the Harbor Lights Restaurant in XXX (I mustn’t tell you our town’s name.) It was so cute! Master brought his bottle of Chablis (yes, I know, you don’t speak the “s”) and they pried out the cork and poured it out for us as if we’d paid £10 for the wine! Master recommended the soup and prawn sandwich which I can say was very, very good. I have to confess that I spent too long in the WC reading the stories – they are so funny!

We didn’t hold hands or kiss or any of that stuff. Master absolutely forbids PDAs. We just talked like two friends. Well, mostly Master talked and I listened. He knows so much and I love learning. He did get annoyed with my silence once and insisted I tell him about my work. All through lunch I could feel the hurt of the whip marks on my front from yesterday. It made me think that Master loved me and made me feel warm and cozy. That, and looking at his kind face, made me get a little wet. (maybe also, I had too much Chablis?)

We walked back home side by side, not touching (no PDA!), I said goodbye to him at his drive and his gave me a peck on the cheek and whispered my slave name. I walked home alone, a little unsteady (I definitely had too much wine!).

I was very happy today!
 
Saturday, January 26, 2019

Today was a cloudy with some afternoon rain, high 47°.

Master is away on a business trip for FIVE WHOLE DAYS! Shit! Yes, I know I’m supposed to clean up my language – but FIVE days!

Master said “It will be an excellent opportunity for you to extend and augment your will power and independence, and learn to use time alone constructively” (I memorized that to help me learn; doesn’t Master speak well?)

He’s right, of course. I will use the time constructively. Right now, I will tell you a little more about me.

When I was a girl, I had daydreams of been kidnapped or tortured or used by men (only later did I know what “being used by men” meant. My parents were very strict against talking of that stuff.) In my teen years, those dreams become much more specific. I think my excitement in learning about sex (about, not doing – I was a good girl) started my excitement about learning.

When I was in school, I never dated. I was shy and awkward so I never flirted or asked a boy out. We hung out in a big group, 5 boys and 6 girls. But I always felt out of place. The girls only talked about boys and flirted. And the boys just showed off and made rude remarks. Since I wasn’t very attractive, none of the boys were very interested in me and I was never asked out. But, at home, at night, in bed, I enjoyed pleasing myself while imagining myself in terrible situations. The more danger and the more threatened pain, the better.

But I was ashamed. If anything like that was discussed, it was that someone who felt that way was sick. I didn’t want to be sick! But, in my later teens, it felt so good to think of those things while I masturbated. I was SO torn between loneliness and desire on the one hand, and guilt and shame on the other.
 
Sunday, January 27, 2019

Today was a colder and cloudy, high 38°.

I am quite proud of myself. I did not spend a single minute today sitting round and thinking about Master. I got my regular work done in record time and then thoroughly cleaned the kitchen and sitting room. Then outside to tidy up the drive from the last storm droppings. I was a veritable whirlwind!

I went online and looked up passive-aggressive. Yep, that’s my Ma alright! The silent treatment – she could make it so silent it sucked the whir of the icebox motor into silence. Subtle insults – “you did well on your school report, {Dina}, not as outstanding as your brother, but well enough.” Stubborn – my Pa used to say, people who talk about stubborn mules have never met your Ma.

I should tell you the worst thing she ever said to me. When I was seventeen and had never had a date, the fact came up at supper (as it often did!). Pa said something about how someday soon a nice boy would appreciate me. That was OK, I guess. Then Ma says “I’m not worried about {Dina}, there are a lot of plain men out there who don't have much and will be glad to settle for a homely girl.” Her exact words! I said nothing, just ate my food. That night I cried myself to sleep.

But I have Master now and I feel much, much better. Let me tell you a little about him.

Master is a lot older than me, 47! Yes, I know! But he looks very good for his age and he is tall and gentle and SO handsome. He has a lot of degrees and was always the top of his class. (I kid him that’s why he’s SO “classy.”) He is self-employed like me, as a kind of consultant in Finance (that’s the field that handles a lot of money). That’s why he travels SO much.

When we met, he had been divorced for two years after being married 16 years. He insists the divorce was his fault. But I know his ex-wife must be an idiot or a witch!

[M - Dina, please don’t capitalize “so” every time you use it.]

{I will try, Master – D}

Master is trying to improve my writing. I think its hopeless!
 
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Monday, January 28, 2019

Today was a little warmer and cloudy, high 42°. Hell! It’s really about the same every day!

Another day on my own. Actually, I’m feeling better about it – stronger! But I do wish Master would hurry back!

Today my bedroom and the play room got the clean treatment. Then I baked some blueberry scones. The last few minutes is so hard when the smell of the batter and the blueberries is all through the house. I was going to eat just one, but I ate three. I’ll eat a small supper to make up for it, I told myself (I sometimes lie to myself about food – it’s a bad habit!) The rest are away for tomorrow and after.

Why don’t I tell you a little more about my fantasies when I was a young girl.

I think I already told you that when I was young, I dreamed of men capturing me even when I didn’t know what for. I would be kidnapped and tied up (my mother warned constantly of the terrible things that happened to you if you were kidnapped. She never would say what they were. I wanted to know!). It seemed so exciting to be helpless and in danger and my body vulnerable (sometimes I even thought, naked!).

I would be a very brave girl and call the men (none of who ever shaved) “hairy monsters” which would make them particularly mad at me so they threatened even more unnamed terrors. They never quite got around to doing anything to me, but I’d feel all tingly and warm when they threatened. But then I would be saved, just the way it was in all the storybooks. My Pa, or Constable Collins (Ma said to always trust the Constable – boy was she wrong! – story for another time!) or a knight on a horse would come and drive the men away and untie me and hug me tight and say they loved me (at least Pa and the knight did – I don’t remember if Collins did). I loved the hugging, but I always sort of wondered what would happen if I wasn’t saved.
 
Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Today was cloudy with a little rain, high 38° icing in the hills.

Not a very interesting day. Sorry readers.

I did have a long phone chat with my fowk. First one in three weeks. I have a lot of trouble talking to my Ma these days. I don’t get sad or anything at her talking me down; Master has made me so much more confident. It’s just SO so boring listening to her go on and on, especially about me needing to find a “husband.” Yes, she actually says that, not a boyfriend, not someone nice, a husband. Get married and give me grandweans. That’s what she means.

She’s not worried whether I love a man or am happy. Do my duty and make weans! Really Ma! But I can’t argue with her. I never win and I just get unhappy. It’s better to pretend to listen and occasionally mumble, “Ya Ma.” She never asks about anything in my life except this. Which I kinda like. She doesn’t understand or approve of my work or living on my own, and I can’t talk about Master.

My Pa is nice to talk to. He tries to be positive when Ma’s not listening. But he’s worried too, because he thinks I’m totally alone. I wish I could tell him about Master. I think they’d like each other. But Pa is very old-fashioned; he’d never understand.

Pa sounded older on the call. He worries me. Have I told you? He is much older than Ma, 62 to her 46. He’s not been real strong the last years. He won’t tell me anything’s wrong, but I think there is. I wish I could do something for him!

So, you know why I don’t like to talk to my parents much.

Just two days until Master returns! I’m strong! But I want him back!
 
Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Today was a mostly sunny, high 39°.

Master’s last day away. I spent a lot of the day shopping (not much buying! My dosh is very tight and I’m trying to save – Master’s suggestion).

Groceries at the Co-op (no, I don’t get my messages on a certain day of the week – I go when the larder is getting bare.), included Ramen noodles. They are SO cheap! I really tried to avoid fat stuff. I want to get back to 127!

Dress shops on High Street. I looked a lot but didn’t buy anything. Most are too posh for how I live. There were some nice ones. Maybe another time after I lose some weight.

William the Woodwright’s stand on Market Street. I bought a beautiful new spurtle – he let me have it for only £7.50 (I think he likes me). My old one is really done. Made me think of making more scones. But I still have several and I’m on a two-week diet!

Home Hardware for tools Master recommended. He said he will show me how to fix things and not have to pay the Handyman. I don’t think I could learn, but Master says I’m very clever and will pick it up in no time. Two screwdrivers as a start, one Slotted and one Phillips as Master said, for £2.26. I think I got a good deal.

I walked by Tesco with a window sign for Mackie’s. GOD, I love their ice cream. Diet, remember diet. I walked right by (actually I stopped for a moment and drooled – then I walked by). I am strong!
 
So far we've learned that Dina the Sex Slave is pretty much like every girl:
Praefectus Praetorio said:
Master knows that a girl likes to have some choice in her clothes, so he allows me some freedom with the skirt.
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A clothes horse!?
Praefectus Praetorio said:
I have an average face and figure. I’m not particularly attractive to men, but I guess I’m OK.
Click to expand...
Underestimates her attractiveness!?
Praefectus Praetorio said:
I walked home alone, a little unsteady (I definitely had too much wine!).
Click to expand...
Sometimes drinks a wee too much?!
Praefectus Praetorio said:
“you did well on your school report, {Dina}, not as outstanding as your brother, but well enough.”
Click to expand...
Has a mother who drives her crazy!?
Praefectus Praetorio said:
It’s better to pretend to listen and occasionally mumble, “Ya Ma.”
Click to expand...
Has a mother who drives her crazy!?!?
Praefectus Praetorio said:
I love their ice cream. Diet, remember diet. I walked right by (actually I stopped for a moment and drooled – then I walked by)
Click to expand...
And has food (and weight) issues.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
I bought a beautiful new spurtle – he let me have it for only £7.50 (I think he likes me). My old one is really done. Made me think of making more scones
Click to expand...

That's a posh spurtle, it should give her years of satisfactory service ;) :devil:
 
Thursday, January 31, 2019

Today was a chilly and cloudy, high 38°.

Today Master gets back. I was busy as possible all morning, trying so hard not to go to the window seat! Finally, at about 1 PM, Master texted me “Home. Please come over here at 9 PM for ‘something special’.”

I get to go to Masters again! It has been exactly a week since my last dungeon session so it is OK by the rules. But ‘something special?’ I am SO so curious! And I’ve never gone over so late. It was a very hard eight hours waiting.

When I got to Master’s, he was dressed very posh in one of his “Banker Suits” that he wears to impress his clients. Hadn’t he changed since returning?

After hanging my coat, he took me by the hand and led me, not to the dungeon, but to his dining room. The lights were out and two candles in silver candlesticks were lit. The table was set for two with crystal wine glasses, silverware and china dessert plates. In the center was a chocolate torte on a glass stand. A bottle of port was on the side. Master held my chair for me and then ‘seated’ me. Then he went and sat opposite me.

“Dina, we have been apart five days. In this time, I have thought carefully about our relationship. I determined that when I returned from my travel, I should express to you my appreciation for your loyalty as my slave.” His exact words. My heart fluttered in my chest!

“Therefore, I decided that this evening, I would host you for dessert and some old Port. For tonight I will treat you not as my slave, but as a refined Lady, deserving of the highest respect.”

“Dina, my dear, may I cut you a slice of this fine chocolate torte?”

“Yes, thank you, Sir.” I tried to speak like a lady. “I should appreciate that.”

He cut me a thick slice (he knows how much I love chocolate) and then poured some ruby colored Port into my glass. We ate the torte (Heavenly!) and drank our Port (very smooth and sweet with a very complex taste – master’s been teaching me about wines) and discussed the weather and his trip, and the wonderful meal.

Afterwards, he walked me to the front door. There, as I’d been hoping, Master took me in his arms and gave me a very loving kiss. Very politely he asked. “Dina, would you give me the great pleasure of sharing my bed tonight.” Just like that! I said, “I would love to, Sir.”

What a sweet man Master is!
 
Friday, February 1, 2019

Today was almost sunny! At least it seemed sunny to me! high 39°. Getting cold now 31.

What a night! Even without a whipping, I felt a real ‘day after” today. My Master seems to love me almost as much as I love him!

Today, back home (snuck over in the early morning rain before any of the neighbors would be up – I felt SO very naughty!). Catching up on work and planning my weekend. Master has to go to EXXH for a day trip, so I won’t see him today.

I went on line and looked up Saint Blandine. Wow! What a woman! I am so proud that Master chose her for my “patroness” (I love that word he taught me). She lived in Lyon France in 177, actually that’s the year she died. She was a slave (a real slave, the kind people bought and sold and worked really hard) and the Romans tortured her horribly, but she refused to give up Jesus, or inform on her master’s family! I pray I would be that loyal to Master. But I think I’m much too weak.

Here is a film about her:

 
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