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Child of the storm - Chapter 01 By DoggyStyle57, April 2013 Commissioned by Gogog on SoFurry

===

*KABOOM!*

Arthur Jameson awoke suddenly, and was groggy, disoriented, and utterly terrified. He was in bed, in a darkened room, lit only by sporadic lightning flashes through a curtained window. He felt like he was partially deaf from the incredibly loud sound of the nearby thunderclap. The only sounds he could hear were a torrential rain, howling wind, and an almost constant rumble of thunder as a storm raged just outside his window.

*KABOOM!*

He flinched as another lightning bolt struck very close. Much TOO close! The flash and sound happened almost in the same instant. Instinctively he hid under the covers, wishing the storm would go away.

The next lightning strike was so loud as to be completely deafening. He felt it more than he heard it, and his bed was knocked on its side, tumbling him to the floor. The wall beside his bed had vanished - blasted into splinters and burning at the edges of the gaping hole. He had a dim recognition that the bed he had just tumbled out of was the type you would find in a hospital room, rather than the type that should have been in his bedroom at home. This room looked completely unfamiliar. 'Where am I?' he wondered, before blacking out briefly.

He woke up again, with no idea how much time had passed. There was more light in the room now, but it was coming from a fire in the doorway. The door had burst open, and the hallway beyond it was fully engulfed in flames. Black smoke was boiling into the room across the ceiling. But fortunately most of the smoke went out the hole in the wall, sucked away by the winds of the storm. As terrifying as the raging storm outside was to Arthur, the idea that he might die in a fire was far worse. He got unsteadily to his feet and took a hesitant step toward the hole in the wall, and saw with some relief that he was on the ground floor. He took another step or two, and he felt something tugging lightly at his back and neck, like some nightmare creature was clawing at his spine, trying to hang on to him and force him to stay there and die in the flames. He screamed, and without pausing to even yank a blanket off the bed, he plunged through the gaping hole and out into the teeth of the storm, barefoot and clad only in a flimsy pair of pajamas. Whatever had been on the back of his neck released him... if there had ever really been anything there at all.

===

Rebecca Hanson was tired. She desperately wanted a hot bath, and then to slip between the silk sheets of her bed and get a good night's sleep. This evening she had been required to attend a 'publicity party' in Carver City for a locally produced men's magazine calendar that she had been featured in. The calendar had been available for sale for six months, but the magazine still had the girls in the calendar attend autograph parties where fans could meet them and get their signatures on calendars. Her picture in the calendar as 'Miss October' had her wearing an orange corset decorated with black lace, a black lace bra and crotchless panties, thigh high black stockings and a garter belt, and nothing else, while posing in front of a spooky backdrop. The orange under-bust corset had struck her as utterly tasteless, but at least they hadn't reversed the color scheme. An orange bra would have made her large breasts look like a pair of pumpkins.

She had spent the last six hours smiling and signing "Miss October 2012" and her autograph on calendars for a seemingly endless parade of men, and an occasional butch-dyke woman, while eleven other mostly big-breasted girls who were also in the calendar each signed their respective pages. All around them, the guests and promoters and representatives from the magazine that published the calendar mingled and drank cocktails. It annoyed her that most of the men who wanted her autograph couldn't seem to raise their eyes above the level of her ample cleavage. The skimpy cocktail dress that she had been required to wear left very little to their imaginations. She had to wear her most low-cut bra - one that didn't even cover her nipples, for the bra not to show with this ultra-low neckline. But repeatedly answering their questions about her measurements and her sex life was much worse than having them stare at her large breasts.

"What are your measurements, babe?" was the most common question, usually followed by some variant of, "Are those huge tits implants?"

"I am five feet ten inches tall and I weigh one hundred forty pounds. My measurements are forty four, twenty six, thirty eight, and I wear a 32-JJ custom-made bra. And no, my breasts are not that big because of implants. They are entirely natural. I've had large breasts since I was twelve," she replied, so often that she lost track of how many guys had asked her that tonight.

"How many porn films have you been in, babe?" was another question she hated.

"None, and I have no intention of doing any porn work at all," she would reply. "I am a professional model. The raciest work I will do is nude full-frontal nude poses like I did when I was the 'girl of the month' in the magazine's October issue, last year. Most of my work is performed fully clothed, or as a lingerie model."

"Will you sleep with me, babe?" several guys asked. Some even offered to pay quite handsomely for the privilege.

"No," was her invariable reply.

"Oh? Why not? Do you prefer girls?" was often the response to her refusal.

"No, I'm quite straight, but I prefer guys that make an effort to get to know me as a person and a friend, before even thinking to ask me about having sex, or even about what my sexual preferences are," she would reply.

As soon as the party was over, she put a raincoat, left the party, and started off on what would be, on a good night, an hour-long drive back home to the suburb where she lived. Just as she left the Interstate for a local farm-to-market highway, she drove into the edge of a fairly severe thunderstorm. She turned on her windshield wipers, cursing her bad luck tonight. A heavy rain would definitely slow her down.

Rebecca detested driving home from Carver City late at night. She left the urban area behind, and was driving down the older highway that had largely been replaced by the Interstate, but which still served several 'bedroom communities' where the cost of housing was more affordable than in the big city. The road between each small town was the worst part of the trip at night. It was well maintained, but the only light illuminating the highway between each community was what the passing cars' headlights provided. The only thing worse than driving this unlit stretch of road at night was having to do it at night and in a pouring rain, like tonight. And the rain was getting steadily worse. _S_he slowed to ten miles an hour, unable to see the road ahead of her if she drove any faster, despite switching her windshield wipers to their fastest setting. She passed a sign that read, 'Woods Hollow - 15', and sighed. She had just fifteen miles left to go before she would get home.

She saw several lightning bolts strike trees and buildings that were close to her. One was close enough that she could tell the tree that had just been struck was now on fire. The flashes of lightning and the rumble of thunder was almost continuous now, and the worst part of the storm was right on top of her.

*KABOOM!*

Minutes later, Rebecca's night vision was completely obliterated as a bolt of lightning struck so close to her car that she felt the small vehicle shake with the force of the shockwave surrounding it. She could actually feel heat from the blast. She swerved to a halt and almost put her car in the ditch, and then waited for her night vision to return and her heart to stop racing.

"That was too damned close," she said in a shaky voice. A pine tree on the other side of the road had been struck, less than fifty yards from where she sat, and was now a burning torch, dimly illuminating the area by her car.

She was almost ready to get back on the road when another lightning flash that was close, but by no means on top of her, illuminated a pale blue shape that was partially submerged in the wide, flooded drainage ditch beside the road. She never would have seen it if she hadn't been stopped and looking that way when the lightning illuminated it.

"Oh no! There's someone in trouble out there!" she said. Heedless of her own safety, she grabbed a flashlight from her glove compartment, opened her car door, and went to the person's aid.

All she could tell at first was that the person was young, barefoot, and only wearing pale blue pajamas. They were lying face down and half covered by the turbulent flood of rainwater in the ditch. They appeared to be uninjured, but they were not moving, and were either unconscious or had already drowned. Rebecca prayed they were not already dead. Her right foot sunk to mid-calf in the sticky mud as she struggled to turn the person over, and she lost one of her high heeled shoes as he pulled her foot out of the mud. She was relieved to see him cough, but his lips were turning blue, and he was clearly suffering from hypothermia and exposure. She slipped and fell into the turbulent, muddy water as she tried to pull him out of the ditch, losing her other shoe in the process. The rushing water carried her thirty feet further down the ditch, and her clothing was completely soaked by the time she managed to regain her footing and get back to the poor guy to pick him up and carry him to the road. She took him back to her car, not caring that the gravel on the shoulder of the road was tearing her silk stockings to tatters. She was amazed at how small he was. He was only a child! The boy couldn't weigh more than seventy pounds. As soon as she had him lying in the back seat, she covered him with a blanket that she kept in the car, threw her drenched and now useless coat on the floor of the car beside him, and got back in the driver's seat.

Calling 911 was out of the question. She could get the kid to her home before even an emergency helicopter could get to this remote location, and no chopper was going to fly in this storm. An ambulance from the nearest fire station could take an hour just to get to them. So she got back onto the highway and drove home as fast as she dared. "Stay with me, kid!" she said as she got back on the road and cranked her car's heater to the maximum setting. "We're not that far from my home, and the rain finally seems to be getting lighter. You'll be safe and dry soon."

'How would a kid in his pajamas end up way out here, in weather like this?' she wondered as she drove through the downpour. 'There's nothing along this stretch of highway but farmer's fields and an occasional darkened industrial-looking building. Not even a farmhouse anywhere near the road.' She looked to either side of the highway, but with the heavy rain she couldn't see more than fifty yards. There was a faint glow behind her that might be a fire in the distance, but intense storms like this often caused fires, either from direct lightning strikes or from downed power lines.

===

Arthur woke up again and almost screamed. He had apparently been having a terrible nightmare. It had been something about a fire, and a storm, and very nearly drowning. But he was not wet and cold now, and everything was completely quiet. A single white pillar candle burning on a saucer on a dresser table gave him just barely enough light to see colors. He was completely dry and warm, lying naked between pink silken sheets, his head was resting on a pink silky pillow, and he was and covered to the neck with two fluffy pink and white floral print comforters that were so thick he couldn't even see the shape of his own body beneath them. He rolled over and saw a bathroom door open on a nearby wall, and a toilet and bathtub in the bathroom.

'What's with all the Pink?' was his only coherent thought before he fell asleep again.

===

Arthur woke up again, in pitch darkness. The candle had gone out. He was sweating profusely, and he needed to pee, and badly. He remembered where the bathroom was, and that the door had been open. He threw back the covers and stumbled toward the bathroom. He felt strangely uncoordinated, and bumped into the doorframe while getting into the bathroom. He tried the light switch, but the power was apparently out. So he sat in the darkness on the toilet like a girl because his legs were too weak to stand, and besides, there was no light to see so he could aim his piss into the bowl even if he could stand. When he was done, he numbly wiped and staggered back to the bed, feeling his way cautiously across the darkened room. Something was very wrong, but he was still too groggy and feverish to figure it out. The one thing that he understood clearly was that there was a warm, dry bed here that he could rest in. For now, that was all that mattered.

===

The next time that Arthur woke up, he felt something cool in his left ear, and heard a soft beep. Whatever it was withdrew from his ear, and he heard a woman's voice say quietly, "Good. The fever is finally gone."

He could see daylight now. Arthur rolled over and looked at the woman, holding tightly onto the comforters at his neck because he was acutely aware that he was naked under the blankets and sheet. "W-where..." he asked. His voice sounded oddly high-pitched and frail.

"Oh! You're awake!" she said, coming closer to the bed. She was holding one of those nice infrared thermometers that you put in the ear to take a person's temperature. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You're in my home, and safe. I found you in a drainage ditch, half dead of exposure, and maybe stunned by a near miss from lightning. The lightning almost hit my car, too. You're a very lucky young man. You could easily have died in that thunderstorm two days ago. Since then, you've been drifting in an out of a fever, and mostly sleeping. But your fever's gone now. Do you feel up to eating anything sweetie?"

"T-two days? Y-yes. Hungry," Arthur replied, as he tried to focus his sleepy eyes on the woman.

"Good. That's a very good sign," she said, as she leaned down to look at him more closely and to touch his forehead with her hand. "My name is Rebecca. What's your name, dear?"

Arthur stared at Rebecca. She was quite pretty, in a 'girl next door' sort of way. She had a cute little nose, and a slightly round face, and sensuous mouth with a smile he could happily look at for hours. Her honey-blonde hair was just past shoulder length, styled in some sort of a shag cut. She was wearing a fluffy pink robe, and his first thought was that she was rather overweight. But when she stood up, he could see that she had a very trim waist and wide, sensuous hips, and the biggest breasts that he had ever seen on any woman in real life. He quickly tore his eyes away from her breasts and made a deliberate effort to look her in the eyes, as he replied, "I'm Arthur. And you're very beautiful, Rebecca. Thank you for rescuing me." He had wanted to sound manly and flirt with her just a little. But his voice seemed oddly weak and high pitched. To cover his embarrassment, he asked, "Ummm, where are my clothes?"

"That's very sweet of you to say," Rebecca replied, happy that he didn't stare endlessly at her chest. "But I'm afraid you don't have any clothes, baby. All you were wearing when I found you were some flimsy paper pajamas. They looked like the disposable ones they give you at a hospital. Anyway, they were pretty much ruined, so I threw them out. You didn't even have any undies on. But you weren't wearing an ID bracelet, so you couldn't have been a hospital patient who somehow ended up outside."

"N-no clothes?" Arthur said. "Can... I borrow..."

Rebecca shook her head. "I'll do what I can but I'm pretty sure nothing I have would fit you. You'd be swimming in any shirt that fits me, and the only way you could fit in any of my pants would be if I cut the legs shorter and they had a drawstring in the waist. Hummm. Maybe one of my pairs of capri pants or biking shorts would be short enough and tight enough though. But now that your fever has broken and you're awake, I could leave you alone for a while and go out and buy you a few t-shirts, pants and underwear. Of course, the best thing would be to find your parents and have them bring you some fresh clothes and take you home. I'm sure they are worried sick about you baby. But I've been checking the paper and the police department's lost children website on the Internet, and I haven't seen any missing child reports for a kid that looks like you."

"M-my parents? Missing child reports? That... doesn't make any sense," Arthur replied. He glanced at the bathroom and said, "Ahhh, I have to go again, and with no clothes, ummm, do you mind?"

"We can discuss it after I get some food into you, Arthur," Rebecca said. "You can do your business in the bathroom and get a hot bath if you want. I'm afraid the shower head is broken, so don't try to shower. You can lock the door on both ends for privacy if you're bashful. The far door connects to my bedroom." She giggled, and then as she walked to the hall door she added, "But I've already seen every inch of you, young man. I had no choice. You were soaking wet and covered with mud when I found you. I live alone, so who do you think bathed you and dried you off after you got here?"

Arthur watched her leave, and he thought to himself, 'Wow... Having a sexy babe like that giving me a bath could be quite an erotic experience. I wonder if she got naked with me in the bathtub? Just my luck not to remember an event like that! But is she a little crazy, too? What was she on about with all that stuff about my parents being worried sick, or lost child reports, or calling me a kid? She can't be older than in her low thirties. Admittedly, I'm younger than she is, but twenty six is hardly a kid. I haven't lived with my parents since I left for college, eight years ago. Oh well, I can figure that out later. Right now, my bladder's killing me.'

He staggered a bit as he got out of bed. The mattress seemed unusually high, and his legs still felt pretty weak, like he had spent far more than just a few days stuck in bed. He tried to shake it off, as he went into the bathroom. He flipped on the light, initially missing the light switch, which was higher on the wall than he anticipated. "I wonder if she'd mind if I borrowed her toothbrush, or if she has a new one in the drawer? Pissing can wait a few more minutes. My mouth tastes like the inside of a muddy boot," he said to himself.

He started to look through the drawers for a toothbrush that was unused, and then stopped and stared at his hands. "What the... My hands and arms look like they've shrunk. God, I must really be starving, to lose that much muscle tone in just a few days of not eating. Crap! She said I was sick with a fever for a couple of days. I hope I don't have some sort of exotic wasting disease. That would suck, big time. Ah! Here's a fresh toothbrush."

He ran some water in the sink, unwrapped the new toothbrush and wet down the bristles, and squeezed some toothpaste onto it. Then he looked up into the mirror, and started brushing his teeth.

And then he froze...

A complete stranger was looking back at him from the mirror. His reflection was that of a skinny ten to twelve year old boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes! He moved the toothbrush, and the reflection mimicked his jerky actions perfectly. He spat out the toothbrush and backed away from the mirror as if he had suddenly found himself facing a snarling wolf.

"Impossible!" he declared, staring at the reflection of a terrified child. "I'm twenty six years old, and I have dark brown hair and brown eyes! There's no way that kid can be me! Ahhhhhh!" as he saw that his every action was reflected in the mirror, Arthur's eyes fluttered and rolled up in their sockets, and he passed out.

===

When Arthur woke up, he was back in bed, with Rebecca wiping his forehead with a cool washcloth and hovering over him like a mother with a very sick child.

"God, you gave me quite a fright!" Rebecca replied. "I heard you shout something, scream and fall, and I rushed back up here to find you passed out on the bathroom floor! What's wrong?"

"W-what... what have you done to me?" he asked.

"Just tried to nurse you back to health, is all. You've been unconscious, so all I did after I found you was to keep you dry and warm, and gave you water and liquid baby aspirin for the fever. Oh no! Are you allergic to aspirin? Are you having an allergic reaction? Oh, you poor baby!" She kissed him on the forehead, which caused her huge breasts to press against his arm and chest.

Arthur paused to consider the situation. Her concern seemed genuine. She was acting like a distraught mother. And really, what could any normal person do that would change an adult into a child, and even change the color or their eyes? If he told her now that he was not the child that he appeared to be - if he insisted he was a twenty six year old man whose hair and eyes were not the same as what she could clearly see his were - this nice lady would think he was insane, and have him committed to a lunatic asylum.

"Sorry," he said slowly. "I... maybe it just hit me that I don't know how to get home from here. I guess I thought you kidnapped me or something, and I panicked. You've done nothing to deserve that kind of suspicion. I apologize for scaring you. I'm still a little groggy, and my mind is playing tricks on me. Ummm, I still need to pee, though. Could you help me get to the bathroom?

"Of course, baby! And I won't look at your, ummm, stuff," she said. Rebecca kept her eyes on the top of his head as she walked behind him, supporting under his arms, and guided him to the bathroom. When he was sitting on the toilet, she turned quickly and waited outside. "I'll close the door, but I'll be right here if you need anything Arthur. And I promise you, I haven't kidnapped you. I'll help you to find your parents and get back to them. If I've been slow in doing that, it's just that I want you to be healthy, all right?"

"Yes ma'am," Arthur replied. After he relieved himself, he stood and examined his body. The wall behind the door, to one side of the sink, was tiled with four inch ceramic tiles, and he stood against it and used those to measure his height. He counted tiles and determined that he was only four and a half feet tall, instead of five feet and ten inches, as he remembered himself. He found a bathroom scale, and it said that he now weighed just seventy pounds, as opposed to the one hundred sixty five pounds that had been recorded on his driver's license.

He hesitantly looked down at his crotch, and was rather appalled at how small his flaccid, circumcised penis and tight scrotum looked. He had only a few strands of pale blonde pubic hair. He quietly locked both doors, and masturbated just long enough to get hard. He breathed a sigh of relief when he proved to himself that he could get an erection, and that when erect he was still a fairly reasonable six inches in length and an inch and a half thick. At least that part of him wasn't too much smaller than he remembered he used to be.

"I'm going to get a bath!" he said through the door, though he was mostly stalling for time while his boner went down again, since he had more urgent issues on his mind than jerking off. He started running water in the bathtub. But as he looked at the rippling surface of the water while the tub filled, a distinctly uneasy feeling grew in him. He tried stepping into the tub to test the temperature of the water, and froze in terror. He could not explain why, but the idea of immersing himself in water suddenly terrified him! The fear certainly took care of his erection though. He was limp as a wet noodle and back to the unimpressive genital size of a young boy.

He drained the water back out of the tub, wrapped a bath towel around his waist, and unlocked the doors.

"Changed my mind about the bath, Ma'am. Could I get that food now? Some toast and scrambled eggs would be great, or maybe some breakfast cereal?" he suggested as he came out.

"Will oatmeal with milk and brown sugar do?" she asked hopefully. "It's easy to digest, and I loved that for breakfast when I was ten or so. It's what I was starting to fix when you screamed. It's instant, so all I have to do is tear open a packet, pour hot water into the bowl , wait a couple of minutes, and then add the milk and sugar."

"Thank you very much, ma'am. That sounds great," Arthur said, as he crawled back into bed, slipping off the towel as he got under the covers, and hanging the towel on the bedpost. "And see? I can use a towel as a kilt to cover myself, for now. Think you can find me two or three big safety pins to fasten it with, so it won't fall off easily?"

"That's a very bright idea!" Rebecca said. "Is your family Scottish then? You didn't tell me your surname yet, but most boys your age wouldn't be so comfortable with wearing a kilt unless they were Scottish."

"I... I can't remember, ma'am," Arthur lied. "Some things just won't come to me. Like my last name, or where I lived, or my parents' phone number. What do they call that? 'Emnesia' or something?"

"Close. It's called 'amnesia', and I guess that makes sense if you were as close to that lightning strike as I think you were. It will make it a lot harder to re-unite you with your parents though. I'll go get that oatmeal. You just try to rest, Arthur dear," Rebecca said, as she left the room.

===

After he ate his oatmeal, Rebecca left Arthur alone to get some sleep.

"I'm going to go to the department store and try to find you some clothes, Arthur," she said. "I should be back in an hour or two. I'll have my cell phone with me, and I left the number by the phone in the living room downstairs. But please don't try to leave the house. You aren't well enough yet to go on your own."

"I'll be fine, Miss Rebecca," Arthur said. "I'm certainly not going anywhere dressed in just a towel!"

"I guess not," Rebecca said, smiling as she kissed him on the cheek and left.

===

As soon as Arthur heard Rebecca drive away, he got up and searched the two-story house. His bedroom window looked out over the front yard, and the street beyond it. It looked much like any suburban neighborhood in his home state, with large trees and modest homes lining the street. He had no clue where he was.

Upstairs were three bedrooms, a bathroom that had doors to both his room and what had to be her bedroom, and a closet in the hallway that had a washer and dryer in it. Downstairs was the living room, dining room, kitchen, another bathroom with just a toilet and sink in it, and a small office. There was a one-car garage beside the house, and a small back yard with a high privacy fence. There was even a hot tub on the back patio, under the patio roof.

The first thing he made a point of locating was her computer, which he found at a desk in that small downstairs office. It was a pretty nice desktop system, but it was password protected. He would have to make a point of asking her to set up a password for him, so he could 'search for information on his family' and play games. But what he really wanted was to search the Internet and find out what happened over the last several days, and to see if there was any way to explain his youthful transformation.

The next thing he located was the newspapers for the last week, all neatly stacked in the recycling bin in the kitchen. He skimmed through them rapidly, keeping any sections that mentioned the storm, or fires and accidents caused by the storm, or lost children, or missing persons... and also the obituaries. He noted with some satisfaction that except for a few front page stories the day after the storm, the section of the paper that had most of the local news in it that was of interest to him was also the one that contained the daily comic pages and the obituary notices. If Rebecca noticed the papers had been taken, he could claim he was looking for the comics to read.

He took everything he had culled from the papers back upstairs to his room, to read later, but in the process of selecting them he gotten a general sense that the storm had been quite severe, several fires had broken out, and some parts of the county were still without power, several days later. One forest fire was still only marginally under control, and most of the local emergency services crews were concentrating their efforts on containing that fire and searching for any victims or survivors in the affected areas. There was still no accurate tally of how many people were dead or injured because of the storm or the after effects of it.

He went back to the office downstairs, and found Rebecca's collection of modeling portfolios, and a filing cabinet that contained copies of her resume and lots of copies of her publicity photos. From her resume he got her address. He knew where Woods Hollow was, so now he knew pretty well where he was in relation to his apartment. It was too far away to walk home, and there was no bus service from here to Carver City, other than a daily interstate-route bus. A bus wouldn't do him any good anyway without money, and he had no intention of stealing anything from Miss Rebecca.

He read the rest of the resume to find out what sort of a person had rescued him. She had been in talent shows and beauty contests since she was twelve, and modeling professionally since her eighteenth birthday. Her resume said she went to a local community college for two years, majoring in art, and got an Associate's degree. She had several scrapbook albums neatly arranged on the bookshelf by her desk, maintaining a history of her publicity photos and collections of the magazine articles, calendars, photo collections and lingerie catalogs that she had modeled for. Some of the lingerie and nude photos of her in the magazine articles were incredibly sexy, but he noticed that none of them showed her having sex with or even kissing anyone else. There was one magazine that has shown her parting her labia for close-ups of her completely shaved pubic area, with a couple of sex toys on the bed beside her, but she wasn't ever shown masturbating or using the sex toys. It was still a very hot set of pictures, and Arthur had quite a hard-on after looking at them. In the file cabinet, he found prints of many of the pictures from her professional jobs, including four nice color glossy prints from the nude sexy photo session where she was showing off her shaved pubes and huge breasts. He was very tempted to take those sexy photos to his room, but there was only one of each, and he was afraid she would notice if they went missing.

Looking at the older pictures, it was apparent that she had always had huge breasts, and had never done anything to get them enlarged. Some of her oldest photos were from talent shows and school plays when she was as young as twelve. In the second oldest picture that he could find, twelve year old Rebecca was smiling back at him, sporting a DD chest while her classmates were all still flat as pancakes. Clipped to it was an older picture of her at eleven, still just as flat as all the other girls in the class photo. Later pictures showed her breasts steadily increasing in size, until at the age of twenty two she reached her current 32-JJ breast size that was listed in her resume.

He went back upstairs to her bedroom, and found she had a huge collection of sexy lingerie, including real steel-boned corsets, garter belts and sexy shoes and tall boots with wicked-looking spike heels. He recognized almost all of the outfits as ones she had been wearing in her modeling jobs. Considering how much some of those outfits looked like what a dominatrix might wear, he was relieved not to find any whips, spanking paddles, handcuffs or other S&M gear. The closest he found to bondage gear was some silk rope and a blindfold. He also found one dildo and one vibrator in a dresser drawer under her lacy panties and thongs, but he didn't try to search her dresser for more, for fear that if he messed things up there, she would know he had been snooping around in her intimate stuff. One closet seemed to be mostly things that could serve as 'normal' street clothes, mostly bulky, shapeless tops and caftans that would make it much less obvious how huge her breasts were. Her bedroom was quite large, positioned across the entire back of the house, and two windows in her bedroom had a good view of the back yard.

In what would normally have been the third bedroom, at the front of the house and across the hall from his room, he found her art studio. Here there was another computer, which was also password protected. There was also a scanner, a large-format color printer, a collection of artist's supplies, and several portfolios of traditional and computer-generated art signed 'Becky-JJ', which looked like she had produced the art herself. Some was fan art for various cartoon shows and anime and manga characters, but a lot of it was original characters, or portraits of a very wide range of fantasy and science fiction characters. None of what he found that appeared to be her work was x-rated. Some of the pictures showed the URL of her on-line gallery sites, and he made a mental note to check those out once he had computer access. One side of that room was set up with a photographer's backdrop screen and some special lights for doing fashion photos. A digital camera on a tripod had a wireless remote control and a timer function, and Arthur guessed that Rebecca took a lot of her own 'studio photos'. He confirmed this by turning the camera on and reviewing the pictures on its memory card.

The last thing that he did was to carefully put everything back the way it was, as best he could, except for the newspapers. Then he went back to his room.

===

Back in bed, Arthur tried to think of anything in his past that might have led to his strange transformation. There was only one thing that seemed at all likely.

As he remembered himself, Arthur was single, college-educated, and had a reasonable but unremarkable job that he had worked at for four years after graduating from college. He was still struggling to pay off his student loans from college, as he hadn't yet managed to get a better paying job in his chosen field.

So he had answered an ad for short term night work as an experimental research subject at the Davis Neurological Research Center, where they were doing studies in mapping the parts of the brain related to sleep, dreams and memories. In exchange for spending several evenings sleeping in a medical facility and having his brainwaves analyzed while he slept, he would be well paid.

It had been an unremarkable experience, so far. He would take a cab to the medical facility and report for his appointment. They would attach a bewildering array of probes and sensors to his head and neck, and then he would simply listen to some soothing music until he fell asleep.

The oddest part about it was that although the process was supposed to have something to do with recording his dreams, he couldn't remember anything of what he dreamed during the experiment nights. He would simply awaken in a 'recovery room' - already detached from the sensor array. He would then get dressed, be paid in cash for his night's services, and they would send him home in a cab, giving the cab driver a card with the appropriate address that Arthur had filled out the night before when reporting for the session. Arthur was usually still pretty groggy when they sent him home - too groggy to drive safely. Sometimes the amnesia from the session would be bad enough that he couldn't even remember going to the session or returning from it - but he would know he had gone to another one because he would come to his senses in his apartment, with a new envelope full of cash in his jacket pocket.

When he woke up in this child body during the storm, had the room he had been in been located in some part of the Davis Neurological Research Center? It could be. He didn't get a very good look at the room before fleeing into the storm, but the 'recovery rooms' that Arthur usually woke up in after a dream recording session did have a similar appearance. And he did wake up from their sessions groggy, and suffering from partial amnesia. He would focus his search for answers there, and if he found any solid leads, then maybe he would tell Rebecca about his past, and that he was really an adult, somehow transformed into a child. But until he had that proof, he would try to continue to act like a kid.

But now he really was tired. By the time Rebecca returned, Arthur was back in bed and sound asleep.

===

When she got to the department store, Rebecca was glad that most of the children's clothing had sizing charts on the packaging that gave her some idea of what size to buy based on the age and height of the boy. She hadn't tried to measure the bashful child, but at least she could make a pretty good guess at his age, height and weight. She hummed happily to herself while she shopped for his clothes. She certainly needed to find him some pajamas, a package of underwear, and a few t-shirts and short pants to get him through the next few days. It was getting warm enough now that he wouldn't need a jacket or a sweatshirt. She wasn't too worried about what clothes to pick. After all, it probably wouldn't be that long before the boy was re-united with his parents and would have his own clothes available again.

Yet as she selected some pajamas for him, she found herself dreading the idea of Arthur going back to his parents. The thought of the child leaving so soon brought tears to her eyes. She had only been caring for the boy for a few days, yet already she was becoming quite fond of him, and she found herself wishing he could stay with her - at least for a little while longer. Would it be so wrong to keep him with her, at least until he got his full strength back, and his memory returned?

'Why is he affecting me so strongly?' she wondered as she continued shopping. She was afraid of getting pregnant, and of how much bigger her breasts might get if she became a mother. She was on the Pill, yet she knew that even the Pill wasn't 100% effective as birth control. So Rebecca had always shied away from relationships with guys that seemed to be getting too serious. But she also avoided guys that just wanted a 'quick roll in the hay' - especially when most of the would-be one night stands didn't want to use a condom with her. Yet at the same time, like any other girl, she hoped to someday have a beautiful romantic relationship and marry the man she loved, and she yearned for that unconditional affection that a mother could get from her children. Maybe that was why she didn't want Arthur to leave. Caring for Arthur was very much like being a mom and having a child of her own to care for, and to love her in return, but without needing to get pregnant first!

She recalled how helpless and innocent Arthur had looked on the night of the storm. The power had been out when they got to her home, but she had lit some candles, and there had been enough hot water in the hot water heater's tank for one nice, hot bath. She had stripped off all their sopping wet clothing and shared the hot bath with the unconscious boy, washing the mud from both of them. In the candle light it had seemed very romantic, bordering on the erotic. Then she had gently tucked him into her guest bed. He looked so frail and helpless in the flickering candle light that it made her heart ache. She had been sorely tempted to crawl into the bed naked with him, just to lend him her body's warmth. She had read somewhere that doing something like that was a good way to help someone recover from nearly freezing to death. But she didn't want to frighten him by having him wake up in bed with a strange adult. It was going to be frightening enough just waking up in a stranger's bedroom.

When he did wake up, it felt so rewarding when he thanked her for taking care of him, and when he told her she was beautiful. Knowing that another person relied on her and needed her - not merely to pose for pictures, or because they thought she would be good in bed, or to produce a portrait of their cosplay character - but to help that person survive... It was almost an intoxicating feeling. She could get used to that feeling quite easily. And he looked so cute when he stole an adoring glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking.

Rebecca stood there in the boy's clothing department, with a packet of six child-sized white briefs in one hand, and a canvas shopping bag containing her other purchases dangling from her arm, just staring off into space. It was so adorable, the way the boy had blushed when he had to go to the toilet naked with Rebecca assisting him. She was almost tempted to go back home without buying any clothes for him, on the pretense that she needed his measurements first. Then he would have to stand there naked while she knelt beside him and used a cloth measuring tape to measure his hairless chest, his slender waist, his skinny hips, and the inseam length for his pants. Would he blush again when she had to hold the end of the tape measure up into his naked crotch, with his balls resting on the back of her hand, and her face down close to his cute little cock? Well, his cock was not so little, she had to remind herself. She had already fondled his cock and balls once, when she washed him, but she had stopped touching him there when, despite being unconscious, he started to get stiff. That had been so naughty - feeling up the genitals of an innocent young boy! But she had seen that even as young as he was, if he got aroused he would be every bit as capable of responding to her sexually as any adult was. But he seemed so innocent and unsure of himself that he wasn't a threat to her. Did she dare to...

"Ma'am? Are you all right ma'am?" she heard a voice say.

"W-what?" Rebecca said, with a guilty start as she stopped daydreaming.

A teenaged female sales clerk was staring at her with a concerned look on her face. "I asked if you were all right, Ma'am. I asked you twice if I could help you find anything, and you just stood there like a store mannequin. Is something wrong?"

"No... no, I'm fine," Rebecca replied, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "I think I finally found what I have been looking for."

===

Rebecca finished making her purchases and drove home as fast as she could. When she opened her front door, she stopped and listened, making sure all was quiet. Then she locked the door and quietly crept upstairs to check on Arthur.

He was sound asleep in her guest bed, his angelically innocent face framed in her guest bed's pink silk bedding. She wanted so badly to lean down and kiss him to wake him up. But instead she stood beside the bed and said quietly, "I'm back dear. How is my child of the storm feeling now?"

Arthur's eyes fluttered open and sleepily focused on her. "Home already? Seems like I just went to sleep. Did you find some clothes for me?"

"Yes. Would you mind trying them on for me? I want to make sure they all fit," Rebecca said, holding up her shopping bag. "If they don't, I can take them back and return them for the right size. Well, except maybe the panties, but those are pretty stretchy, so they should fit even if I got a size too small or too big."

"Panties? Please tell me you didn't get girl clothes for me!" he replied, looking very embarrassed.

"Oh no! I just meant underwear," she said with a smile. "They're all from the boys department. I'm just used to calling them 'panties'. I've never had a little boy to take care of before."

"Ummm, are you gonna stay here and watch?" Arthur asked.

"Well, I need to cut off the tags, and make sure there aren't any pins in the clothes that might hurt you, baby," Rebecca said, pouting. "But if you're too shy to let me see you again..."

"Oh, I guess it's all right," Arthur said, getting out of bed, but keeping both hands in front of his groin. "You've seen all of me already, right?"

"Right. Here are some panties... I mean underwear... for you," she said, opening a package and handing him a pair of plain white cotton briefs. Then she said, "They also had ones with cartoon characters and video game characters on them, but I didn't know which characters you might like."

"White's okay, thanks," Arthur said, turning away from her as he slipped on the innocent white briefs. "I'm not much into the ones with cartoon stuff on them. And thanks for getting me briefs, and not boxers."

Rebecca found herself staring at his tight little ass cheeks as he bent over, and then she looked away as she busied herself removing the pins from the walking shorts that she bought for him. "Ahem! Here's some pants," she said, handing him the dark blue shorts.

As he put those on she removed the pins from a double-knit green and white striped polo shirt, and then handed that to him. "And here's a shirt. I also have some thongs for you, for now. They fit a wider range of sizes than if I tried buying shoes for you. When you feel up to it, we can go back to the store together to buy you some sneakers and socks. Well! Don't you look nice!"

"Umm, yeah, they fit pretty well," Arthur said, as he accepted the thongs and put them on his feet. Then he said more enthusiastically, "Thank you, ma'am. It was really nice of you to buy be new clothes!"

Rebecca impulsively stepped forward and gave the boy a big hug. "I'm so glad you like them!" she said.

Arthur found his face pressed right between Rebecca's huge, soft breasts. The bra she had on was apparently a half-cup style that supported each breast from below and from the sides, while leaving her nipples and the upper part of each breast bare. The soft fuzzy sweater that she wore as a shirt made it feel as if he was being smothered in her bare breasts, and he felt one of her erect nipples pressing against his ear as he squirmed in place. 'Damn that feels nice!' he thought to himself. 'Her breasts are so soft and wonderful! Bet there's not a guy in this county that wouldn't like to be where I am right now - at least if they aren't gay.' He reached around her slender waist and returned her hug, mashing his face further into her breasts. "Thank you so much, ma'am!" he said aloud.

Rebecca blushed as she belatedly realized she had hugged the boy's face into her breasts. And she wasn't quite sure if he was thanking her now for the clothes, or for the intimate hug! 'Get your mind back up out of the gutter, girl!' she mentally chided herself. 'He's only ten years old!'

They slowly parted, each staring at the other as if seeing each other for the first time, and both of them were blushing. Arthur broke the awkward silence first, suggesting, "I think I feel up to going to get those shoes now, ma'am. And maybe after that we could get some burgers for lunch? I'd really love a cheeseburger and a big milkshake!"

===

After going back to buy Arthur some sneakers, Rebecca took him to a fast food place that she liked for lunch. It had a small park with a real playground next to it. Not one of those sterile plastic and rubber 'playscapes', but an old-fashioned park playground, with grass, and dirt, and swings, and slides, and a jungle gym to climb on. When they were done eating, she had to encourage him a bit at first to go mingle with the dozen or so other kids. But soon he was playing and laughing just like the rest of them.

Rebecca sat on a park bench beside another woman about her age, and watched the kids play.

"So, is the boy in the green and white shirt your son?" asked the other woman. "He looks like a fine young man. My daughter is the one over there in the pigtails, with the red skirt."

"Well, he's staying with me for a while," Rebecca said, "while his parents are on vacation. You know how it is. They won a 'free' cruise for two, but the cost of a third ticket for their son wasn't at all free, and besides, he still needed to keep up with his schoolwork."

"Ah... Yes, my husband and I get those scam calls all the time," the other lady said. "We tried it once, before we had Melody. We 'won' a so-called 'free' trip from Florida to the Bahamas, and even free air fare to Florida and back from here. They had lots of free stuff to do while we stayed there for five days. But the catch was that there were also lots of high-pressure sales events that we had to attend each day, all trying to sell us vacation time shares or resort 'memberships', and they had casinos everywhere to lose our money in. Not worth it, really. What school does your boy go to? Our girl Melody is home schooled."

"Oh, I'm home-schooling Arthur while he's with me," Rebecca said quickly. "His parents normally home school him too, and they just gave me all their books and tests to keep him going while they are away."

Suddenly there were some angry shouts as a scuffle broke out. Arthur had knocked an older boy to the ground and was sitting on top of him pounding on the other boy's face and forearms with both fists. Several other boys and one girl were also struggling with each other.

"You take that back!" Arthur shouted. "You have no right to badmouth a lady like that, you punk! You take it back right now, and then you go apologize to her!"

"Boys! Boys! What's going on here?" Rebecca shouted, as she ran to break up the fight. Three other moms and one dad dove in as well, and dragged their kids out of the scuffle. "Arthur! What is the meaning of this? Why were you fighting?" she demanded.

"He said some dirty, nasty things about you ma'am!" Arthur said, wiping a dirt-smeared hand across his face. "He needs to apologize and take back what he said!"

The boy in question was grabbed by the ear by a woman who was apparently his mother, and she said, "Frank! Is that true? What sort of foul language have you been using now?"

The pigtailed girl stepped forward and said, "I heard Frank say it, ma'am. Promise you won't get mad at me if I repeat those nasty words?"

"You tell them, Melody," her own mother said.

Frank's mom nodded and added, "Wouldn't be the first time my boy's foul mouth earned him an ass whoopin'. Go ahead, girl. What did my boy say?"

Melody stood up straight and looked at Rebecca, and said, "I apologize for sayin' this out loud, ma'am. But Frank called you a 'two bit whore with moo cow tits', and said 'I bet she fucks every guy that asks her.' And then that boy next to you," she pointed at Arthur, "he tore into Frank like hellfire itself, and demanded that Frank apologize. He threw Frank right over his shoulder an' onto his back, and sat on Frank's belly and tried to pound the tar outa him! Those two boys are Frank's friends, an' they tried to fight your boy. Me and the other kids just tried to break it up. That's the honest truth, ma'am."

"Is that true, boy?" Frank's mom asked, yanking the boy's ear.

"OW! Y-yeah ma. That's what I said," Frank replied. "Ma'am... I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you names just 'cause you got big... OW!" he yelped again as his mom slapped him.

"That's enough, Frank," his mom said. "Everyone can see what you were talkin' about. Still ain't no reason to badmouth her. You watch your mouth, and when we get home, your father and I will have a few more things to say to you."

"Ma'am, even with the insult, I apologize for my boy fighting with yours," Rebecca said to Frank's mom. "I accept your apology, Frank. But don't say things like that again about people you don't even know. Someone just might object to such slander. Let's go, Arthur."

"Yes ma'am," Arthur said as he followed her to the car. "But he deserved it. He had no right to talk dirty about you like that."

===

When they got home, Rebecca sighed as she looked at Arthur. "As much as I appreciate you wanting to be my knight and shining armor and defending my honor and virtue Arthur, did you have to make such a mess of your brand new clothes? You are absolutely filthy. Strip and get a bath, now."

Arthur's eyes got wide, and he stammered, "I... I can't do that, ma'am. I want to get clean, but... well... I tried to take a bath the other day, and... I don't know why, but the idea of lying down in water terrifies me! I couldn't even step into the tub to see if the water was the right temperature!"

"Oh dear! Maybe it's because you almost drowned in that ditch?" Rebecca replied. "Well, hopefully that fear will fade with time. But we can't leave you filthy, and my shower is broken. So I guess our only choice is for me to give you a sponge bath. Go up to the bathroom now, and I'll bathe you."

"Y-you... Y-yes ma'am. If you insist, ma'am," Arthur replied, as he slowly went upstairs.

Rebecca followed him upstairs, and said as he went into the guest bedroom, "Get undressed, and wrap a towel around you if it makes you feel better. Then meet me in the bathroom."

Without waiting for an answer, she went further down the hall to her own bedroom and took off all of her clothes except for her bikini panties, hesitating briefly before removing her bra. Then she put on an overly long 'sleep t-shirt' that reached to her knees, and belted it with the pink fuzzy belt from her bathrobe, and opened the bathroom door from her side.

Arthur was waiting for her, naked except for a towel that he had wrapped around his waist like a kilt. His face and arms were filthy, and the dirt on his legs between where his short pants had stopped and his socks had begun was very obvious. Rebecca also noted that he had skinned one of his knees in the fight. But aside from needing a bath, he seemed otherwise unharmed. No bruises or black eyes that she could see.

"Well! It looks like you came through that with only a skinned knee? That other boy was bigger than you are. How did you manage to get the better of him so easily," Rebecca asked.

Arthur looked at his toes. He couldn't tell her that he had taken four years of martial arts classes in college. Even with this smaller body, the knowledge of how to use a Judo throw to flatten a much larger opponent had worked well for him, as had his knowledge of how to use Tai Chi moves to deflect a stronger opponent's blows rather than trying to block force with force. "I... like watching martial arts movies," he replied. "I guess some of the cool moves I remembered from the movies really work pretty well."

"I guess so," Rebecca said. "But I'd still rather not see you fighting over a mere insult to me. If I was in serious danger of being hurt, or if you were, then by all means use your 'cool moves' to defend us. But please don't risk being hurt for mere insults. I've... had to put up with a lot of insults like the ones he said, over the years. And I've been called a lot of things that were far worse than that - like being given the reputation for being a slut in high school when I was still a virgin, just because I had big breasts but wouldn't 'put out' on the first date for the guys that thought I'd be an easy lay, or because gossipy girls were jealous of me and spread filthy lies. It doesn't help that brats like that boy might have seen me posing nude in some of their daddy's men's magazines. I'm a professional model. I don't do porn, but I will pose nude. The money for being a centerfold girl is often too good to pass up. And I may as well get some benefit from having to haul all this extra weight around," she said, hefting her huge breasts with both hands.

"All right, ma'am. I won't fight unless I really need to. I'm sorry," Arthur said, trying not to stare at her unbound breasts as she jiggled them. "So, umm, how is this 'sponge bath' gonna work? I can't lie down in that tub. I just can't make myself do it!"

"Can you stand up in it, if it's only ankle deep?" Rebecca asked.

"M-maybe. I'll try. Maybe it won't be so scary, with you there for me," Arthur replied. "This is so weird! I used to love swimming! I'm sure of it! And I can't ever remember having a fear of water like this!"

"I found you face down in a water-filled ditch. Maybe you felt like you were going to drown before you passed out," Rebecca said. "But that can't happen to you here, all right? The water is only going to be ankle deep, and I'll be right here. There's no way you could possibly drown. Trust me, baby. Stand in the tub, and I'll add the water slowly."

"All right, ma'am. I trust you," Arthur said. He stepped into the dry bathtub. He still shivered with fear when the water started to lap around his ankles. But he refused to give in to his fear and run out of the bathroom. "I can do this," he said, closing his eyes. "Just get it over with fast, okay?"

Rebecca sat on the edge of the tub, with her bare feet in the water, and used a washcloth and a bar of soap to wash his legs and feet first, stopping at mid thigh as she got to the lower edge of the towel that the boy was firmly clutching with one hand, to keep it from falling off. Then she stood and washed his face, and his ears, and then slowly worked lower, washing his neck, and then his arms. She sat down again and washed his chest, until she was down to the towel at his waist. "That's not so bad now, is it?" She asked gently. "Turn around, baby, and let me wash your back next."

"It feels nice, Ma'am," he said, and he meant it. He opened his eyes again as he turned around, bracing both arms against the wall on the other side of the tub. As he turned he noticed that the front of Rebecca's t-shirt was getting rather wet.

Rebecca washed his back slowly, reaching around him and getting his sides too, and in the process pressing her breasts against his butt. When she got to his towel again, she said, "Time for the rest, baby," and gently pulled the towel off of him, laying it on the floor.

Arthur gasped as she washed his ass, hips and thighs. Despite his best intentions, he started to get an erection when she reached between his legs from behind and washed his scrotum just as thoroughly as she had everywhere else. He was franticly trying to think of anything that might get his boner to go away when he heard her say, "Almost done, baby. Turn around again."

He took a deep breath, and then apologized as he turned around. "I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I can't help it!" he said, blushing profusely. "I wasn't thinking naughty thoughts about you! Really!"

Rebecca was staring right at the ten year old boy's rock hard cock. Its tip was only an inch or so from her mouth. She licked her lips, and then looked up, and said, "Look at me, Arthur. I am not mad at you. It's a perfectly natural reaction. Do you want to finish on your own? I won't touch you there unless you say it is all right."

Arthur looked down at Rebecca, and at her pretty face just an inch from his twitching cock, and at her huge breasts that were only barely concealed behind her now soaked and nearly transparent t-shirt. More than anything else, he wanted her to suck his cock. But he mustered every bit of willpower he had, and replied, "I... I can't bend over. I'm too scared. You can do it. I trust you."

"All right then," she said, as she wet the washrag again and soaped it up good. She washed everything except his cock first, including washing his scrotum a second time. Then she gently wrapped the soapy, soft washrag around his shaft and washed his firm young cock.

Arthur closed his eyes and sighed, trying with all his might not to cum just from her touching his cock through the soapy washrag like that. But she wasn't masturbating him. She was merely washing it off, and then she rinsed that area just as she had every other inch of him, by soaking the washrag and squeezing water from it over the soapy areas.

"All done," Rebecca said. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" she offered him a hand in getting out of the tub, and then quickly toweled off every inch of him, ignoring the fact that he was still quite erect. Then she pointed to the door and said, "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get a bath myself. I'm soaked, so I may as well finish the job."

"Yes ma'am!" Arthur said, as he almost ran for the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him. As he heard her draining and refilling the bathtub, he wondered if he dared to masturbate while she took her bath. He was still as hard as could be, and aching for release. He hadn't masturbated all the way even once since arriving here, though he had been sorely tempted to relieve himself when he was looking at the collection of her nude photos. But... he also hadn't heard her lock the bathroom door...

To be continued...