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felt wonderful as Ione quickly sprayed a stream all over her body. She drew the line, however, at letting the other woman rub her body with a soapy cloth, and made her feelings known by snatching it from Ione’s hands.
    “Do you wish to use your safe word?”
    Oh crap. So letting strange women shower you was also part of this submission training thing. Who knew? “No, sorry. Just a reflex, I guess.” She handed the cloth back and closed her eyes. “Knock yourself out.” Maybe if she didn’t watch she could imagine it was Conal doing the bathing.
    Oh shit! The water turned cold and she jumped, almost slipping off the stool. She opened her eyes and tried to figure out if this was some sort of punishment, or if Ione just had a sick sense of humour. One glance at Ione’s face, though, and she knew she would get nothing there. Not one sign of emotion in that Ice Queen’s expression to give her any clue as to what was going on. Before she had a chance to complain she was hoisted to her feet and wrapped in a large soft towel. Ione dried her off in a few swift and slightly rough movements then threw the towel on the floor, gesturing to her to dry her feet.
    After having her hair brushed out she was led out of the room and down the hallway. She shivered, crossing her arms in front of her. This whole thing was so surreal. Here she was walking around a strange house—naked! Talk about being outside your comfort zone.
    “There are some new rules for you to remember,” Ione told her as they continued the walk downstairs. “Keep your head lowered unless Sir is speaking to you. When you enter a room you must kneel, hands joined behind your back and your legs shoulder width apart. Failure to follow these rules will result in punishment.” They reached the end of a corridor and stood in front of a large panelled door. “Before we enter, I need to remind you not to speak unless directed to. Nod if you understand.”
    Erica nodded as Ione turned the handle and let her in. She felt a small shove at her back pushing her farther into the room, and turned back in time to see Ione leave. She was on her own. Or so she thought.
    “Did you learn the new rules?”
    She turned back to face the sexy Irishman who belonged to the voice. Rules? Okay, no talking. What were the new ones? Oh yes. She took a few more steps inside the room and dropped to her knees. It took her a few minutes to adjust herself on the cushion she assumed was for this purpose. She straightened up, checking to see if her legs were the correct distance apart and finally clasped her hands behind her. At the last moment she remembered to look down. Cool. She could do this.
    Conal walked over to where she knelt and circled her, tapping her back firmly with the handle of a flogger, which caused her to straighten her back even more. “Your first lesson is to control your posture. Press your arms backwards and show me your breasts.”
    The hot flush spread across her body from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. Not only that, but there was a tingle thing happening around her legs.
    She closed her eyes, moaning softly as he flicked her nipples one by one with the leather handle of the implement. “You have gorgeous tits, Enya.”
    It should be a sin to have such a sexy voice. Just listening to that Irish lilt was getting her off big time. It was a huge effort to obey the rules and keep in position without speaking. Her breathing changed into a fast and short symphony of hyperventilation that was likely to have her on the floor in a few minutes if she didn’t get herself under control.
    He gripped her hair, pulling her head backwards, sending her breathing into hyper-drive. “Slow down your breathing before you faint.”
    The sternness of his voice brought her back to reality. Her job was to do what he asked and trust that he knew what he was doing. She took in a long breath and blew it out slowly, steadying herself as he let go of her hair. It was a relief to