Chapter 12: Washington

I CONSIDERED driving from Chicago to Washington, DC, but my lovers soon convinced me that was a dumb idea. Not only was it a drive of 700 miles—alone—but then I’d need to deal with parking in DC and we’d had experience with how difficult that was. So, Monday morning, we dropped Anna and Ronda at the train station and Toni at school. It was Anna’s first day orientation, even though she would regularly be working only Tuesdays through Thursdays. Patricia and I stopped for a light lunch and then she dropped me off at the airport. I was lugging my full camera set up with me on this trip, but had to check my cameras this time because the 727 into DC didn’t have a luggage rack for coach class.

I locked the cases securely before I checked them.

It was less than two hours from O’Hare to Washington National. Once there, I caught a cab into town to the Plaza Hotel and checked in. Adrienne had encouraged me not to meet her at the airport because she was flying in to Washington Dulles and it was twenty-five miles out of town. She left Los Angeles about 8:30 in the morning and wouldn’t get in until after 4:00 in the afternoon. I reminded myself it would be a three hour time change.

Once I was checked in, I carefully hung my suits and shirts. I’d become pretty skilled at packing with limited wrinkling. I decided to take a walk and shoot some tourist photos. I was only about six blocks from the White House. Unfortunately, it was still occupied by Tricky Dick. His campaign had managed to completely obscure the Watergate break-in by his staff by coming down on Thomas Eagleton’s mental health until McGovern had to replace him on the Democratic ticket with Sargent Shriver. I reminded myself that Ronda and I needed to request absentee ballots for the election in November. I believed we’d be in Mexico at the time.

After taking a few pictures, I walked around The Ellipse and then down to the Washington Monument. The last time I was here, the National Mall was packed with people protesting the Vietnam War. It seemed strange to me that it was fairly empty while the war was still going on.

I walked up Virginia Avenue and took a few pictures of the Harry S. Truman Building where the Department of State was located. I guessed I’d spent enough time being a tourist and went to rest up in my room. It was almost six o’clock when I got a call from Adrienne in the lobby. I rushed downstairs to greet my mistress and escort her to our room.

“My sweet Fifi, welcome to Washington, DC,” I said as I led her into our room. It was really quite nice for not being a suite or anything. As soon as we were inside, she turned and I wrapped her in my arms for a long luscious kiss.

“My master, I am so happy I could come to you this week,” she said. “Do you wish me to be naked?”

“Oh, I do, but not yet, sweetheart. You must be exhausted after traveling all day. We should find dinner and then get you into something more comfortable. Do you want to unpack first?”

“If it pleases you. I will have time to have my clothes pressed tomorrow if you wish me to leave them in my bags.”

“Oh, no. I already got my things hung up. I was surprised that you wanted to come in so early since I’ll be working in the daytime for the next three days and the dinner isn’t until Wednesday evening.”

She opened her suitcase, which I saw was much more orderly than when I’d spanked her a few months ago for its condition. I knew she’d thrown that together the last time so I would have a reason to punish her.

“Every moment with you is worth the wait,” she said. “We can go to dinner whenever you are hungry. Remember, for me it is only three-thirty. It was a six-hour flight, but I lost three hours in the air.”

“Tell me how things have been in Los Angeles since you returned in August?”

“Production spooled up rapidly during the summer. All the location scenes were done in Tenbrook by the end of August. September and October have been all studio work. Your friend Lorraine was cast and has been doing everything she can to expand her role. If it wasn’t so late in the production, she’d probably succeed. But it will be a good intro to the industry.”

“I wasn’t sure she’d be a good fit,” I said.

“Oh, I think Reg would find a place for any actress you recommended to him. He’s completely enamored with Renée. And Fran can walk on water as far as he’s concerned. She’ll do well.”

She finished unpacking and closed her suitcase. She carefully placed lube, her healing cream, and our favorite paddle on the bedside table. “Just in case it’s needed,” she said. Then she lay down on the bed next to where I was sitting.

That was a wonderful invitation and we kissed, letting ourselves renew our acquaintance with our fingers and our lips. I didn’t want to get too involved before we went to dinner, though. I hadn’t really eaten any lunch, and was getting hungry. I knew that once I started removing her clothes, I would not want her to dress again to go out. I’d heard of a famous old grill in DC and I guess we were just lucky that we could get in without a reservation made way in advance. I went to the host at The Old Ebbitt Grill and asked for a table for two. He started to ask if I had a reservation when he caught sight of Adrienne. He stopped short.

“Certainly, sir. If you could give me just a moment to make sure the table is set,” he said. He disappeared and was back in two minutes to lead us to a table near the back of the restaurant. “Sir. Miss. Your waiter will be with you momentarily.” He actually kind of bowed to us. I was impressed with the level of service already.

“Cocktails?” a server asked at my elbow.

“Would you like something, Adrienne?” I asked.

“Oh, let’s just have wine with our meal,” she suggested. I turned to the server and he quickly left and returned with a wine list. I looked over the menu and was a little shocked at the prices. It didn’t seem like any of the food was particularly exotic, but the prices were. I was tempted to have one of their burgers, which I’d been told were also outstanding. I decided on the spicy sausage garganelli, a pasta dish. We ordered an appetizer of crab and artichoke dip and I consulted with Adrienne regarding what wine we should order. She’d decided to have salmon, but said the preparation would stand up to a bold red. Her suggestion was the Saint-Émilion Grand Cru.

I ordered and we held hands across the table as we chatted about the travel. When the wine arrived, the sommelier opened it at the table, presented the cork to me and poured a sample. I don’t think I’d ever tasted a wine so perfectly balanced and smooth. He poured our glasses and suggested we let it breathe a few minutes.

“Compliments of the chef, Miss Baudelaire,” he said. My eyes popped open.

“You’re known here?” I asked my beautiful mistress.

“I didn’t think they would remember,” she said, blushing and hanging her head.

“That is why the maître ‘d suddenly found a table for us without a reservation,” I said. “I think there must be a story here. What must I do to coax it out of you?”

“Oh, master. You know that for some time I traveled everywhere with our sponsor. He was called upon to testify before the Senate on some occasions and I accompanied him here. He didn’t like to have undue attention called to himself, so I acted the part of a society woman with him in tow.”

“I do wish I’d known our sponsor before he um ... became ill,” I said. “I find that you can give me a key to an exclusive club in Chicago, that you are known by many famous actors and producers in LA, and now that you are recognized at the oldest restaurant in Washington. I always wonder what I will find out about you next.”

“I hope you find out everything about me, master. If I displease you, you can always punish me.”

“I think I’ll wait until I find out who knows you at the dinner Wednesday evening.”

We enjoyed the meal thoroughly and the wine went down smoothly. The maître ‘d called a cab for us after I’d paid the bill and left what I thought was an exorbitant tip with my American Express Card. I’d need to pay that back to the Department.

I admit to being just a little tipsy and when we got back to the hotel, I was eager to get my mistress naked and in bed.

I slung my 35 over my shoulder but left my other equipment in the room with sleeping Adrienne. After I’d kissed her, I headed out for my training session, stopping in the hotel restaurant for a cup of coffee and a sweet roll, which I ate as I walked to the building. I stopped at the front reception desk and showed my ID badge to the woman working there, which surprised her, and I realized she hadn’t seen one before.

“I’m here for a training session today. Mrs. Everton is my contact,” I said.

“Oh! Yes, the passport training. I believe this morning is all internal employees, though. You won’t need to be here until one.”

“I think they wouldn’t get far without me. I’m the trainer.”

“You are? Oh! I wasn’t expecting you to be so young! I’ll call Mrs. Everton and she’ll escort you. Are we all going to get one of those?” she asked pointing at my badge.

“That’s the plan.”

In five minutes a very businesslike woman came to greet me. She wore slight heels—maybe an inch—and a gray business suit with a white blouse. The skirt came just below her knees. She looked me up and down the same way I assessed her.

“Mr. Hart, I’m Mrs. Everton. It’s a pleasure to meet you. If you would follow me, I’ll take you to your classroom. In addition to being your escort, I’ll be one of your students today. I’ve been told we are going to issue badges for every employee, though most people aren’t enthused about it.”

“I wasn’t sure about it myself,” I said. “I’ve found, however, that it is not an inconvenience and it speeds many things up. I’m not stopped and questioned regarding whether I should be somewhere as much as I used to be.”

“It smacks of Big Brother,” she said. “I suppose it’s inevitable, though.”

“I’m only the trainer. I didn’t make the rules.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

We went into a fairly large classroom. There were thirteen stations, including one in front for me. Each station had the box for an ID system and a box of supplies. The stations did not have the bindery box, as this was strictly for internal ID creation.

I had a list I unfolded from my pocket and looked at who was to be in the class.

“Mrs. Everton, do you have an updated list of class participants? I see my list has a couple of blank spots,” I said.

“Yes. I’ll take care of checking everyone in.”

“I appreciate that. May I see the list, so I know who I’m talking to this morning.”

“Oh. Well, yes.”

She handed me her clipboard and I checked the names as I walked around to each of the boxes and jotted down the system number next to the names on my list.

“Will you be here for every class?” I asked.

“Only at the beginning to register the attendance.”

“The equipment needs to be registered with the corresponding name,” I said. “That will become even more important when we are training the passport centers. The equipment is registered to the position and will be shipped after the class.”

“Yes, sir.”

That brought me up short. Apparently, I’d become a person in authority.

“Please, Mrs. Everton, I’m not one for a lot of formality. You may call me Nate. I’m not going to try to pull rank or anything. I’ve just done this a few times and have had my responsibility for matching equipment with location driven home by my boss, Mr. Martin.”

“Mr. Donald Martin? He’s your boss?”

“Yes.”

“They don’t tell us anywhere near enough about who is going to be where. He’s my boss’s boss as well. All the passport center operators who will be attending are indirectly his reports.”

“It’s kind of a screwy reporting system. I’ve found the same thing in the embassies. Passport services are a part of the embassy staff, but they report to Mr. Martin indirectly.”

“So, you travel? Outside the US?” she asked.

“Yes. That will be the majority of my work, I’m told. That’s why he decided to bring all the passport center staff into DC for training at once, so I can start flying again.”

“That’s so exciting. Where have you been?”

“Well, to be honest, only to India. I hate to say it, but I’ve only been on the job for six weeks. I wasn’t expecting to travel so far afield right away, but they needed equipment setups there to handle the refugees from Bangladesh.”

“Please call me Dorothy. I thought only the most senior employees traveled to the embassies. You must have a unique skill.”

“They like having an actual photographer teaching this stuff. And thank you for permission to use your first name. I’ll not do that when we are talking to the class.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hart. Er ... Nate. I’m looking forward to the class.”

People started filing into the room and Dorothy checked their names and pointed them to their station. When she had everyone checked in, she stood to introduce me.

“Mr. Nate Hart is here from the Chicago office to train us on the use of the new ID equipment. He is, I’m told, an accomplished photographer and is installing this equipment around the world. Mr. Hart, the class is yours.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Everton. This is the dawning of a new age. I was told recently that it smacks of Big Brother to have everyone wearing an ID badge and needing to show it wherever we go. I’ve been told that when the US began requiring photos for passports that people were equally indignant that their word regarding their identity was not enough. But sadly, that is the world we live in. A year ago, I was part of a symposium on photo IDs in Chicago, and among others, representatives of four state DMVs attended, gearing up for requiring photos on drivers’ licenses. It is a quick and easy way to tell if a person belongs in a space.”

I looked around at the group. They were being attentive, but were also fiddling with the equipment boxes in front of them. There were two people at each station.

“Let me say ... alert you to how important your job is in both making sure the people whom you are identifying are the people they say they are, and that your equipment is secured when not being used. Let’s begin with that. You will find a key taped to the top of the equipment case in front of you. Please remove it and use it to unlock your case.”

We were off and running. I removed the key from my case and unlocked my equipment, then pocketed the key.

“When you checked in this morning, this equipment, the supplies, and the keys at your station were registered to your names. Keep track of where that key is and when you are finished with the equipment for the day, be sure it is locked.”

People were a little thrown by the sudden announcement of their responsibility, but when we removed the top of the case, they were quite excited to see the ID setup. We went through each step of startup and shut-down all the way from unlocking to relocking twice, so both people at the workstation could run through it. It was convenient that the facilities had already run power to each of the classroom stations, so we could connect them. Then they were given their ID badge template and told to look it over to make sure there were no errors in the information. The teams took each other’s photos and generated their ID on the spot.

When the class was over, and people had an opportunity to ask questions, they packed and locked their equipment and carted it away. The kit weighed about forty pounds, so there were dollies in the room that could be used to roll it to their location. For some, it was heading directly to their office. Others were headed to different buildings. Everything from this session, though, was staying in Washington, DC.

While I was transporting setups to the student stations for the next class, people began bringing back the dollies. I didn’t think they’d be needed by the next class since the equipment was to be labeled for shipment to their passport center. There would be more equipment and boxes for this batch.

“Here is the list of names and office locations for the next class,” Dorothy said. “May I bring you some lunch?”

“Thank you, Dorothy. That would be very kind. Just a sandwich of some sort and a cup of coffee, black.” I hadn’t realized that I was the one who was going to do all the moving of equipment for setups. It was a damned lot of lifting. I had removed my jacket and was still sweating out my pits.

Dorothy was back in fifteen minutes with a pastrami and Swiss on rye. I ran out to use the restroom and wash up before I settled in to eat it. By the time I was finished, people were beginning to enter the classroom and Dorothy was checking off the attendance. She brought the sheet to me and made the introduction. I was off and running again. This session was more involved because we had to cover both the ID process and the passport process. That meant we had the bindery to deal with, too.

We didn’t end until after five. I went around checking to see that all the equipment was locked, had the correct label on it for shipping, and the responsible people both had their keys before dismissing the class.

Then I stayed until the crew came in to gather the equipment and supplies for shipping. We cross-checked everything against the list again and once they hauled it all out of the training room, I left and went to the hotel to see Adrienne.

“What would you like, my loving master?” Adrienne asked as she massaged me after a nice bath. She’d also already arranged for dinner to arrive before I got back from the training session. It wasn’t like she was asking if I wanted to fuck her. We’d done that, too.

“I want to take new photos of my beautiful mistress,” I said.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Any way you’d like me.”

I set up my camera and started playing with my lover. She had pulled the shirt I wore during the day over her shoulders, often rubbing her face against it. The last traces of the evening sun were illuminating our window with a golden haze. I moved Adrienne to stand in front of it and kissed her neck as I pulled the shirt off one shoulder. She faced the window and I took the first photos.

She’d brought flowers to our room, a touch that I would never have thought of in a hotel room. I moved them over so they were beside her and she looked down at them. Then I pulled the shirt down further. It was all she was wearing and I took pictures of her with it draped around her butt and caught on her elbows.

Eventually, I coaxed her out of the shirt altogether and took several more pictures before the light completely faded from the window. Then I coaxed her into bed.

“The dinner tonight is at the Watergate Hotel at seven o’clock,” I told Adrienne before I left for work Wednesday morning. “That should give me plenty of time to get back here and shower before dressing for dinner. Do you have everything you need, dear?”

“Yes, my kind and gentle master. I will not disappoint you.”

“I know you will not disappoint. You never do, my Fifi. You may wear your collar tonight, but I will not hold the leash. Use it as a belt. Remember, I have a professional relationship with the other guests at dinner.”

“Yes, master. I will have your suit pressed and ready for you.”

I kissed the incredible woman and headed to work.

“Hello, Mr. Hart. I’m Ruby LeBlanc,” drawled the pretty young woman waiting at the classroom door for me. I saw she was carrying a clipboard. “Dorothy asked if I could take the attendance and assist any way I can today.”

“Well, thank you, Miss LeBlanc,” I said. “Let’s start by taking a look at the equipment to make sure everything is here and check it against the names registered for the class.”

“Please,” she said sweetly, “just call me Ruby. I’m not so fancy as to have ‘Miss’ attached to my name. We don’t much hold with that in New Orleans.”

“I was wondering what part of the country you hailed from,” I laughed. “As with Dorothy, I’ll refer to you as ‘Miss’ when addressing the class or in public. When it is just the two of us, I’ll be happy to call you Ruby if you’ll address me as Nate.”