A Night at the Black Bassinet - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

A Night at the Black Bassinet

Chapter 1

Andy fumbled around in the dark as his coat billowed around him in the cold wind of the winter night. Hazelbrook’s streets were clean, well lit, and yet ominous to him. It was almost too clean for his liking. He preferred the alleys of his hometown, where he could get to higher ground in an instant and be lost in the darkness. His curled tail swished behind him, catching onto lamp posts with an almost inquisitive nature of its own. A learned trait to escape detection was to always have a place to climb. HIs little round ears perked up as the newly constructed train line carried a passenger cart over his head, the white gleam of its carriages taking passengers back home from work in the central zone.

Grabbing his pocket he pulled out his bubbler and clicked it a few times to get the liquid inside to froth. The small pleasures of a legal vice like a bubble addiction were all he could get now. One regressive episode and exposure to the stuff had got him hooked. Colorful wood was not his aesthetic choice, and it certainly didn’t match the brown coat and creased chinos he’d chosen to wear today. But damn if biting down and blowing didn’t clear his head a little, small bubbles coming free from the end of the device as he felt an instant sense of relaxation. No wonder tobacco went out of fashion.

Each of his footsteps felt twice as loud on the lonely streets that went from district to district. Most residents took the train now, but he hated the thing. Too many eyes and ears, too many conversations. He took another breath down the bubbler as his fur stood on end and his head cleared once more. Even as much as he hated the monorail, the silence that permeated the industrial districts at this time of night was arguably worse.

Cars weren’t strictly banned from Hazelbrook, but all the streets were pedestrianized. Driving down one required a permit, advanced warning and clearance from the ever watchful city board. Their invention a few decades prior had upset nearly every carrier in the city, and the board had been clear that their smokey exhausts and horrible noise were not welcome in the inner city. That and the number of regressees meant there were safety concerns. They certainly wouldn’t have been allowed to drive the damn things.

Not that he’d have been able to afford one. His agency had no work, his rent needed paying, and he often had to choose between food or bubbler refills. Pulling the device to his mouth again he felt a sting of guilt before shoving it to one side. Tonight the stuff just wasn’t giving him enough of a kick.

His eyes scanned around and looked for a place to get a drink. A stiff one, whiskey or brandy or something strong enough to loosen up his shoulders and get through the night with some semblance of sleep. Signs swung from the iron railings above each of the taverns as he passed them, each with names that tried too hard to be a play on words.

The Masters Cradle

The Barmans Bottle

The Black Bassinet

The last one made him raise an eyebrow. It was hardly an inviting name, not even the most desperate mobster would’ve wanted a black sleeping arrangement, especially not in the hot summer months. It was enough to draw him to the door, his eyes looking in to see how busy it was.

It was empty. Totally devoid of patrons of any kind, the elephant barman calmly cleaning glasses and checking taps.

Perfect for a monkey who just wanted a drink to forget his woes and lose himself in the moment.

He pushed the door open, its creaking hinges echoing around the empty room. The elephant didn’t react, continuing to clean down the various surfaces as Andy made his way over to him. A he looked over the various available drinks, the barman finally chose to recognise his presence, the booming voice breaking the silence

"What's your pleasure?"

Andy sat down, leaning on his hand "Whiskey, neat. Spit in the glass."

"One of those days, huh?" the elephant responded robotically

"Chase it with a second and I might feel obliged to tell you." Andy pulled out his bubbler and took a quick drag, watching the little things pop as the elephant poured him his drink.

The barman scoffed "Huh. Wouldn’t have taken you for a bubbler kid in that dress-up”

Andy growled a little from behind the end of the device, but chose to go along with the conversation, grabbing his drink. "I tried kicking the habit, but bubbles help me relax."

The pachyderm raised an eyebrow. "One more time, what was that?"

"...bubbles help me relax?"

Andy let the device fall from his mouth as the tusked tender put down the highball he'd been polishing to a shine and stepped from behind the bar. Andy winced and felt his shoulders clench up. Did he accidentally offend the bartender? The elephant raised a massive hand high above his head and Andy braced for impact. All that came though, was a soft click. The bartender had pressed a small button, squirreled away behind the bartop.

"You probably know the way. Head to the john, take an early left. And make sure..." the elephant insisted, getting an inch or two from his face. "...that I don't have to clean up any puddles. Capiche?"

Andy had no idea what sequence of events he had set in motion. Puddles? Was this a chop shop, an illegal fight ring?

“Err… sure.” he got up, swigging down the rest of the whiskey and shaking himself clear of the burn to his throat. The stuff wasn’t strong enough to get rid of the sense of dread that took over as he moved off his seat.

Following the barmans instructions he headed towards the toilet signs before seeing an unmarked door on his left. Gilded bevelling and a shiny handle seemed to stand out from the rest of the bar's unwelcoming aesthetic of old wood and rusted metal. The detective parts of his brain started to work, piecing things together. The rest of the place didn’t need to be kept clean, kept up to date. But whatever was behind this door was far more important to the owners… and likely the patrons. A small device above it was glowing green, likely the lock that the barman had disengaged to let him through. Had he spoken a passcode?

Something illicit was going on here. He looked back over to the bar, the elephant going back to cleaning the rest of his glassware. Alcohol smuggling? Seemed like a bit much to go through when you could just go out of town and get less attention.

He opened the door and was immediately hit by a rush of fresh air. The stale air that had mixed in the bar to create a scent of alcohol and salted snacks was replaced by refreshing scents of citrus and menthol.

He walked in without a second thought, his senses tingling at the new and interesting input. Whatever this place was, he had to know what was going on, that much was clear. The corridor ahead of him was a dull white in color, the short walls leading to a door at the end that was marked with a single word.

DAYCARE

Andy felt his heart rate leap upwards as he started to flip his bubbler over in his hands. Whatever that word might normally suggest, the idea of a daycare behind a bar was absurd. It could mean only one thing.

The small amount of Fountain of Youth water that was used in devices like his bubbler was all that was legally allowed in Hazelbrook. It was not only a rare resource but an incredibly dangerous one in the wrong hands. Getting a hold of the stuff, especially pure, was risky. Not least to one's ability to keep even the slightest sense of adulthood. One pure drop could make the difference between a head clearing high and a sudden loss of motor functions. But for some, that was the point. Adulthood is hard, jobs are difficult, keeping your brain occupied takes effort and time, and the expectations placed on a grown-up were hardly enticing.

But a regressee? Well suddenly the expectations changed. Guardians were assigned to make sure you were fed, your work expectations dropped, if they even remained and simple pleasures could make you feel the most intense happiness. FOY gave you all that, mix it right and you’d have a night of baby brain before waking up ready for the day ahead with all your adult functions intact. All you needed was the right concentration and the right place to do it, away from the prying eyes of Hazelbrooks investigators, who regularly shut down such enterprises. The risk of overdosing was far too high to let it become a business of its own, even if he was sure it would make excellent business for some of the new fangled disposable diaper companies he’d been seeing around.

It was only after his mind had gone through all this information that Andy realized he was reaching for the door knocker on the outside of the door. He retracted it quickly, looking back down the corridor towards the bar entrance. He could leave now, might even get a reward for finding the place from the authorities.

But his curiosity was piqued. This place was a hidden sanctuary, a place of a vice so innocent in its result that it hardly felt like a vice at all. Would it hurt to look? Would it hurt to try.

With trepidation in every movement he leaned forward and took the door knocker in his hand, breathing in deeply before hitting it lightly against the wooden paneling. Rather than a loud bang, he heard a jingle, like wind chimes, on the other side of the door. For a few moments he thought maybe he’d not done it hard enough, until his ears perked up at movement coming from the other side and a click of the lock.

The door opened and Andy quickly took a step back. Another elephant stood at the doorway, a woman dressed in a black dress, pearls and heels. Her black hair was permed, pressed into curls that were almost hypnotic swirls at the back that immediately drew and kept his gaze.

“Good evening Mr…?”

Andy gulped, trying to get himself to stand back up straight, trying to avoid eye contact. A few instincts kicked in as he resorted to his standard way to evade future questions.

“John. John Smith”

The elephant smiled softly and sighed “Dear, I know an alias when I hear one. Nice try handsome.”

Andy smirked and forced himself to visibly relax, the barriers seemingly falling in front of the woman “Heh, fine. Harry, Harry Grant”

The elephant moved back into the room behind the door and opened it up further. “Well, Harry, would you like to come in?”

With small steps he walked past her imposing figure and, with his hand still flipping the bubbler over in his pocket, took in what lay beyond.

Bright lights were everywhere, light blue walls adorned with clouds had furniture against them that looked brand new, glistening white and covered in small teddy bears. The floor was lushly carpeted, a deep red that was only interrupted by the primary colors of baby toys and other items of a similarly childish nature. The smell was intense, a mixture of antiseptic and citrus that was clearly trying to hide less savory elements that could only come from the occupants of a daycare too young to understand the concept of a toilet.

“Newbie huh?”

Andy looked down at the source of the voice. A bear cub at waist height dressed in nothing but a diaper and plastic pants that crinkled loudly at even the slightest movement was giving him a look that would’ve been threatening were he not three foot tall.

“You got that right kid” Andy leant down, moving to the bear's eye-level “What of it?”

The bear growled, looking up at the elephant “Thought you weren’t taking new patrons Vicky. Who’s this bum?”

Without a word she picked up the bear and pushed a large pacifier into his mouth. Almost instantly he went limp, his eyes glazing over as he started to suckle on it, leaning his head against her chest as whatever responses he might have were swiftly silenced.

“I do apologize for Walt. He can be a bit…. Protective” she started to rub his back “Let’s get you all set up, shall we?”

She walked over to a small counter at the back of the room. It looked like a smaller version of the bar, only this was far more inviting. The white wood was clean, once again gilded in gold like the rest of the hidden parts of this strange place. Apothecary jars made of beautiful ceramics were arranged behind it, each one with strange names and a small tap attached.

“What’ve you got for me?” Andy leant against the counter, trying his best to exude a confidence that he clearly lacked.

Vicky smiled as she put Walt down on the counter, leaving him to lie back and start pawing upwards at the lights “Now now, don’t you want an introduction? My services aren’t just about your little… very little… proclivities, kid.”

“How do I get these… services…?” Andy pulled his bubbler from his pocket “I’m in a hurry, you see.”

Vicky simply gave another soft smile and leant down to meet his eye level “You’re not very smart, are you?” she took the bubbler from his hand, ignoring Andy’s sudden change in demeanor as his relaxant suddenly left him “This isn’t just a little buzz, Harry. You’re getting the real deal here. So listen up, I’m not going to explain how this works again”

Andy tried to ignore the feeling of dread that once again started to creep up on him as Vicky stood back up straight, her huge form now feeling distinctly imposing.

“This is the Black Bassinet. You’re going to forget that name the moment you leave. You’ll forget me, you’ll forget everyone else in the room. What happens here, stays here.” she put the bubbler down in front of Andy and pointed to the floor “That’s not negotiable. Cross me, Harry, and someone will be using your adorable little monkey face for colic remedy ads in a week”

The monkey felt himself shiver. He could tell that wasn’t an empty threat. It might even have been a previous patrons life story.

“You’re here for the night and no longer. We’re not adopting.” She took a small baby bottle out from under the counter and walked over to one of the jars on the lower shelf. They were all named, as though they were brands of medicine. Vicky drew from one marked Spring’s Water.

“You’re not getting the hard stuff either. I don’t know who told you about this place, but if they gave you the impression you could be breastfed on your first night here, you’re going to be disappointed”

Andy simply nodded along as she let one small drop come out of a jar into the bottle.

“This is your first dose, so it’s cheap. Fifty, one note no change.”

Andy grabbed his wallet and pulled it open. That wasn’t cheap to him. Fifty was his entire bubbler budget for the month. But he couldn’t step back now. He handed over the note and let her take it as she pulled a fresh carton of milk from a refrigerator under the counter and poured it into the bottle, drowning the small drop of liquid she’d previously added.

“Drink. I’ll deal with the rest so you don’t make any puddles. You don’t want to upset Frank after all do you?”

“Frank? The barman?” Andy felt his voice break a little as he took the bottle from her.

“You make a mess on his floor and you’re not coming back kid” Vicky picked Walt back up and her face curled “On the subject of messes, I’ve got one to handle here. Down the whole thing, don’t stop no matter what you feel”

Andy looked at the bottle as Vicky walked away towards one of the changing tables. His mind was racing, deciding whether to run or to keep going deeper. He could swear all the other patrons were looking at him as they played, some getting in little glances as they pushed wooden trains around or batted at jingling colorful animals that hung above their infant forms. He was out of his depth, but he had to keep swimming.

He put the nipple of the bottle to his mouth and started to suckle. The milk was cool, fresh, and sweet, a damn sight better than the whiskey he’d imbibed a few minutes before. It coated his throat as it went down, his brain tracking it as he felt a tingle start that matched the brief high he got from his bubbler.

Only it didn’t stop. It increased in intensity, starting to move around his head like the arc lights at the monorail station, flicking back and forth between various parts of his brain. He felt like someone was wrapping him in a soft blanket, his skin going from the prickles of anxiety to relaxing into the extended high.

Then he felt vertigo, his head swimming as the room started to enlarge around him. He almost stopped drinking, nearly choking on the mixture before catching himself and continuing as he’d been told to do. He knew what was happening, what must be happening. He was shrinking, his coat and pants falling away to the floor as his body reacted to the FOY.

He was regressing. He was high. He was intensely aware that he was now no taller than a toddler as he finished up the last drop of the bottle, air bubbles all that remained inside.

And as he looked up at the now enormous and motherly figure of the elephant that had just given him the first baby bottle he’d had in thirty years… he felt incredible.

“So, I think it’s Harry’s turn on the changing table isn’t it?”