Chapter Eight
Sigrid sank into the deep tub. The water was almost, but not quite, hot enough to be uncomfortable. It felt wonderful. She let herself slide completely under for a moment and came up again with a sigh. There was soap and shampoo at hand, brushes and washcloths and a loofa available. Thick, fluffy towels were on a rack nearby. If it weren’t for the heavy length of chain padlocked around her neck, she could almost pretend she was in a very good hotel.
She reached down with one hand to gingerly explore her newly bared loins. They had shaved her very closely down there. She had kept very still while the old woman had done the job with an old-fashioned straight razor, painfully aware of Paul and Mistress watching the procedure with avid interest. She felt her cheeks growing hot
