Chapter Six
Jovan
Clark, a tailor who worked for some of the wealthiest business people in the city, came up with the idea one night over drinks in the Chained conversation area. “The littles really love their stuffies, love them to the point where they need a little TLC.”
“You’re right.” I had seen many with missing eyes or ears, stuffing sticking out. Wiped tears from the faces of their sad owners. “Did you have something in mind?”
“I do.” He tipped back his scotch rocks, the ice clinking as the last of the amber fluid disappeared between his lips. “What do you think about having a clinic here, a stuffie hospital?”
Settling back in the leather armchair, I linked my fingers over my abdomen. “Go on. I’m intrigued.”
“Well, first thing we’d need is a doctor.”
“Actually”—her level, calm voice entered the conversation smoothly—“the first thing you’d need is approval from the management.”
“Ms. Lily,” Clark said. “Of course, that’s true.
We were just tossing an idea around, but if ‘the management’ approves, we’re considering having a stuffie hospital.
Jovan could be the official doctor, handling all the owies and boo-boos with bandages and such, and where a stitch or a patch are required, that’s where I come in.
” He cleared his throat and pretentiously pronounced, “As the surgeon.”
“That sounds like something we can do.” Ms. Lily gave a brisk nod. “Put that into a proposal in writing and we’ll consider it.”
Ms. Lily reported back to us a few weeks later that we were a go, and the Chained Stuffies Hospital night was born.
A chance for littles to bring their best friends, of the stuffie variety, in for a checkup and, if necessary, some stitches or other fixes by our “surgeon.” It was overall adorable, and the smiles on the faces of the littles were everything.
In fact, we were so popular, that we recruited our friend Bridger to help at the events.
He was a crochet pattern designer whose creations were very popular among the littles.
They either made the crocheted animals themselves or sometimes their daddies or mommies did.
Also, Bridger had added a line of completed projects to his website at the request of those who didn’t crochet but loved them.
They were super cute, but just like the regular stuffies, enough loving could cause wear.
Neither Clark nor I had the skills to fix those.
Luckily our fellow daddy was delighted to participate, and this would be his first time.
With work being so busy, the events gave me a chance to be a daddy without being a daddy.
I barely had time for Zoe, and had to use the dog walkers to be sure she got out often enough and had attention while I was on shifts.
If I had a little of my own, I’d have needed to hire a babysitter just to meet their needs.
While that might be acceptable in an emergency, it was certainly not something a good daddy would do on a regular basis.
But Chained was a place where I could be a daddy for an hour or an evening, scene with a single little who needed that. The clinic seemed like another way to do just that.
“Hello, Doctor.” Clark came into the foyer area of Chained, arms laden with totes. “Are you ready for our event?”
“Did you see Bridger out there? I’d like him to show me where he wants to set up.
” We walked side by side into the club, past the conversation area, across the main floor, so different when there were no submissives bound to the St. Andrew’s cross or bent over a spanking bench.
No hum of conversation or thrum of bass from the speakers.
“No, but I talked to him a while ago, and he should be along.” I had my own bag, an old-fashioned doctor’s bag that someone had given me when I graduated medical school, likely expecting me to do house calls. It was perfect for this application, loaded with bandages and lollipops.
The little room lay along a hallway shared with the pet room and other special use areas.
Private themed rooms for the most part, popular enough that they were generally reserved by members weeks in advance.
There were all sorts of kink-friendly setups in there, I’d been told.
But I hadn’t been in because as a daddy, the little room was where I enjoyed most of my time at Chained.
Tonight, we had been given a section of the little room for our hospital, and I was tickled to see how much effort had been put into it by the club staff.
Ms. Lily loved a night with a theme, and she had gone above and beyond tonight.
We carried our things to the corner where three miniature exam tables stood, one with a curtain that could be pulled around it for “surgery.” A light was directed toward each table and a sideboard held jars of colorful candies to reward good patients.
As we set up our things, I noticed that the reading corner was featuring stories about doctors and nurses as well as some brightly colored picture books about eating your vegetables and such. There was an Operation game set up, and all the other stations were in harmony with the rest.
“Look at that.” Clark elbowed me and pointed. “You can build your own food pyramid. The original version.”
“And they set up the kitchen so you can fake cook all those things.” The play kitchen came out from time to time and was always a hit.
“This is going to be so much fun.” I set my bag on the sideboard and opened it. “Look at the Band-Aids I found.”
“All the baby animals. No wonder the littles love you so much.”
I had a whole collection of Band-Aids, buying up any that I thought littles would like. Cartoons, animals, balloons, bright colors…but for our stuffie hospital, only the animals would do.
“I hope I’m not late.” Bridger came in, followed by his little.
Of the three of us, he was the only one in a relationship at the moment, and he and Hudson were the kind of couple I could only dream of being.
They shared both a daddy/little and a spousal relationship and seemed to go from one to the other with such ease and affection, it made my heart squeeze.
“I stopped to pick up a box of stuffies we can give away.”
Hudson held up a little crocheted duck only a few inches high. “This one is yellow, but we have blue, pink, purple, green…all the colors!”
“How nice of you both. Your signature duck, but tiny. So cute! Okay, let’s get serious. Pick your exam tables, daddies. I think, Clark, you get the one with the curtain. Which one do you want, Bridger?”
“Either are fine, so I guess the one on the other end? It’s near a chair, so I can sit down and do some fixes more easily.”
We bustled around getting ready, and I tried to push the thoughts of Ernie, my former patient and owner of Pup-Pup, out of my mind. Fortunately, Zoe hadn’t harmed his stuffie, so there was that. Knowing how much the stuffie meant to him, I was very grateful she had not.