“Just a trip? Like a vacation?” That was news to me.
“No, hardly. She needs a personal assistant for their business trip. I think I’m there so she doesn’t have to carry her presentation materials or fetch her own coffee or things like that. Some big-deal influencer, I guess. But whatever, it pays well, and I didn’t have anything better to do that week when I said yes.”
“I guess the two of us will go instead, Hal,” I said. I’d miss having Ridge there, but didn’t want to make him feel bad about working.
Before I opened my next beer, Hal and I filled out the interest form online. We all went back to our pizza, beer, and gossip, eventually getting into our little jams, climbing into my bed, and falling sound asleep.
When the night of the event came, I got a text from Hal apologizing for being stuck at work. Something fell apart, and he wasn’t going to be able to make it.
At one time, I would have stayed home rather than go alone, but Chained wasn’t some random bar or club. I’d be safe there even in my little clothes and with my stuffed dog. I really did want to have him patched up, and I’d trust someone Ms. Lily picked out to understand the importance of a stuffie.
I packed my backpack, breaking my rule one more time, bringing Pup-Pup with me, and grabbed a rideshare.
I loved how welcoming the club made me feel when I walked in. Ms. Lily greeted the littles at the door, treating us like we were rock stars and not just people taking advantage of their nonmember activity.
Some clubs had rules: first time a visitor, second time a friend, third time a member, and that was that. This place wasn’t like that. They understood that some people could benefit from what they had to offer but couldn’t afford to benefit from it regularly, and I appreciated that.
I went to the group changing room. There were some other littles there, and we chatted, but they all mentioned their daddies either being here or having dropped them off. It felt a little awkward for me, being here all alone and not having a daddy.
Would I like having a daddy who just dropped me off at events? I wasn’t sure. It would be one thing if they were away orat work, but just dropping off and picking up? I wanted more out of a daddy than that. But since I’d never had a daddy. Hal said it was because I was so picky. Maybe it was time to start being a little more flexible in my expectations.
I slipped on my one-piece jams covered in puppy dogs, my name embroidered on the chest with a car under it. The car didn’t go with the dogs, but when I was picking it out, it reminded me of a little Matchbox car I carried around in my pocket as a small boy. And I figured, why not?
“Are you ready, Pup-Pup?” He nodded, thanks to my finger pushing his head down. “Let’s go get you all fixed up.”
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 chancefor 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.
