Saints and Sinners

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Camp David

Frederick County

Maryland

Nora Buckingham read the letter Miss Sinclair held out for her, scanning the all too familiar handwriting and taking in the meaning of the cold, brutal words. She could not hold the letter for herself because she was strapped to what her jailers called a cleaning frame. Naked as the day she was born, and more frightened than she had ever been in her life. Beside her, on the second frame, Shannon Bateman was still apparently unconscious. But Nora was not thinking about Shannon at that particular moment, because Miss Sinclair had her remote in her podgy hands. Letter read and digested, it seemed to be time to get down to business.

"Good...introductions made and basic information imparted...I think that your dear father has made a very wise decision on your behalf...so we need to have a little chat, but you are to be quiet and polite this time...is that quite clear, Nora dear?" Miss Sinclair asked, standing close enough to touch, in her grey uniform, reminding her latest charge of her earlier sins as she tapped at her screen. Nora nodded, remembering the pain, the shocking reality of what punishment chips could do to her. Grace Palmer had not been exaggerating. "Good girl...you must always remember your place...girls like you still have so much to learn...and it is my job...and my real pleasure...to train you...but I cannot abide fuss and whining...so, let's try again...do you understand what is expected of you, dear?"

"Obedience, Miss Sinclair." Nora murmured as her vocal cords were released, feeling the clips expand and hang loose. She had written an article for the New York Times about the equipment all British women were fitted with at the age of twelve. She had described the chips as relatively painless and preferable to the paddling's she had received as a child at school and at home, because that was what she had been told, but that was not true. The clips pinched when they contracted, and the chips were pure agony. "May I ask a question, Miss Sinclair?"

"I will allow it...but mind your manners, Nora?" Sinclair said whilst returning the remote to her apron pocket, before turning to pull the enema machine closer.

"Of course, Miss Sinclair...I was hasty...before...I apologise for my behaviour?"

"Go on, dear...don't mind what I am doing...it is really none of your business...you said you had a question?" Sinclair continued, taking up a handful of Vaseline, clearly intending to lubricate her holes. Nora was well aware that Daughters of Eve were flushed out, usually several times a day, but she had never seriously considered the process. She had always rather liked the idea of being completely clean down there, as it were, but the machine looked like a cruel instrument of torture.

"Yes, Miss Sinclair...may I speak to my father, please...in private?" She asked, feeling Miss Sinclair's intrusive fingers inside her, rubbing in the lubricant.

"He is no longer here...but I imagine you will see him before the wedding...he will most certainly want to check on your progress?" Miss Sinclair suggested as she unfurled a long plastic tube.

"Maybe we could talk on the telephone, Miss Sinclair?"

"Gentlewomen do not use telephones, Nora...and your father really has nothing to discuss with you, dear. He has made his decision...he is not about to change his mind?" Sinclair said in her singsong voice, whilst inserting the tube. Nora winced but remembered not to make a fuss. Miss Sinclair did not like fuss and Nora needed to talk to her. "Do you really think that he would take this decision lightly, dear?"

"No, Miss Sinclair...but he does not understand how I feel about it?"

"Goodness me, child...why on earth would he want to?" Sinclair chuckled as she forced the tube past the first sphincter. Nora managed not to yelp. "Do you know your bible, Nora dear? I am led to believe that you were raised to love God?"