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Child of the storm - Chapter 02

By DoggyStyle57, May 2013

Commissioned by Gogog on SoFurry

Tags: Human-only, Regression, Transformation, Romance, Shota, Large_Breasts, Lingiere, Modeling, Nudity, Sci-fi, Bathing, Male, Female, Woman, Boy, Amnesia, Centerfold, Masturbation, shaved,

===

Arthur stood in Rebecca's guest bedroom, naked and leaning heavily against the bathroom door. He was a skinny boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he looked to be about ten years old. Much to his embarrassment, he had recently developed an intense fear of immersion in water. So when he needed a bath, the beautiful Rebecca had calmly given him a sponge bath, as if she was his mother, and he was her incapacitated son. While he stood in an almost empty bath tub, she had washed every last inch of him, by hand, including his balls and cock. She had been rewarded for her efforts by seeing young Arthur get very hard, with the tip of his young cock just an inch from her sensuous mouth. And for one heart-wrenching moment, before she toweled him dry and sent him to the guest room, Arthur had dared to imagine that she was going to suck his cock. That erotic moment had been so recently that he was still quite fully erect.

Rebecca Hanson was a schoolboy's wet dream, come to life. She was thirty two, single, and had recently been the 'girl of the month' centerfold model in several popular men's magazines. She was also a lingerie model, one of the amply-endowed but not at all overweight women who posed for the pictures in catalogs that sold custom-made bras and corsets for women who, like Rebecca, had breasts so big that no off-the-rack bra could possibly fit. She had the biggest breasts that Arthur had ever seen in person. Her resume said she wore a size 32-JJ bra, and that her breasts were entirely natural. Arthur hadn't seen any of her magazine appearances before he met her, even though he found large-breasted girls like her to be very attractive. He had drooled over various girly magazines on the stands, but had never tried to buy one. He figured that guys like him didn't stand a chance with girls like her, so it was pointless to fantasize about them being his girlfriend, or to waste money on that kind of magazines.

Several nights ago, when Rebecca was driving home, alone and late at night, and during a raging thunderstorm, they had both almost been struck by the same lightning bolt. It had struck so close to her moving car that Rebecca had swerved and almost put her car in the ditch. As her eyes recovered from the flash, she had found Arthur in the water-filled drainage ditch, half-drowned and unconscious. The poor boy's lips were turning blue from hypothermia and exposure. He had also been wearing nothing but a torn and muddy pair of disposable pajamas.

Rebecca had taken the helpless child back to her own home and nursed him back to health - or at least to consciousness. When he had told her that he had amnesia and couldn't remember his last name or anything about his family, she had told him he could stay with her, until they figured out who he was and where his family was.

What Rebecca did not know, and Arthur had decided he wasn't about to tell her, was that Arthur could remember most of his past just fine. He knew his full name, his parents' and grandparents' names, his home address and phone number - almost everything. The only amnesia he really had was that he definitely couldn't remember the events that took place during and just prior to that storm. There was a whole day that he couldn't account for, at all, and he really did not have any idea how he wound up in that ditch. But his most important secret, and the most puzzling and unbelievable thing that apparently had happened to him during that period of amnesia, was that he also remembered himself, before the storm, as being an adult, and not a ten year old child! Yet somehow, and by what means he had no clue at all, Arthur had become a child - and not even a younger version of himself. The little boy's face that he saw in a mirror was a total stranger. His eyes weren't even the right color.

Either he was completely crazy, or something unbelievable had happened that had made him sixteen years younger and completely reshaped his body. He still couldn't believe what he saw in the mirror, and he was quite positive that if he told Rebecca the truth about what he did remember, that she would be absolutely certain he had gone insane. So he had decided pretty quickly that he had better try to act like the child that he appeared to be, and to feign a much worse case of amnesia if asked any inconvenient questions. Besides, even if Arthur had some rational, logical explanation for the difference between his memories and his appearance, there was no way he could just go back to his old apartment, job and life. He didn't look to sound anything like his former self. Quite literally, his own mother wouldn't recognize him. He had no vehicle, no money, no ID, and no keys. Even if he could get back to his home and break in, anyone that saw him would think he was a punk kid trying to rob the place. He was helpless without Rebecca to protect him and provide for his needs, and he had nowhere else that he could safely go at the moment.

On the other side of the door, Arthur could hear Rebecca pouring a fresh tub of hot water for her own bath. He desperately, wanted to open the door a crack and watch her, but he didn't dare. The very last thing he wanted was for that nice lady to think he was a sick little pervert and kick him out of her home!

He heard the water shut off in the bathroom, and heard the splashing of her stepping into the hot bath. Arthur groaned as he imagined her now being completely naked, instead of as she had been by the end of his bath, wearing only an oversized and very wet t-shirt that had hardly hidden anything at all from his eyes. His balls ached for release, and while Rebecca was occupied, he really needed to find a private place where he could masturbate. If he didn't get some relief before he tried to get dressed, he would still be pitching a tent in his shorts when she got out of her bath!

Arthur slipped out into the hallway, intending to go to the downstairs bathroom and jack off. He glanced into Rebecca's bedroom on his way to the stairs, and his heart almost skipped a beat. The hall door to her bedroom was wide open, and so was the door to the bathroom from her room! She had a full length, free-standing dressing mirror over near her closet, and from where he was standing in the hallway, that large mirror was at just the right angle so he could quite clearly see a reflection of Rebecca in the bath tub! His mouth fell open as he watched her soaping her large breasts, rinsing them clean, and then raising one shapely leg to wash it as well. He started to masturbate right there in the hallway as he watched her bathe.

===

Rebecca sighed as she slipped into the steaming hot bath. She hoped she hadn't frightened the young boy when she fondled his balls and washed his cock. He had gotten himself filthy - while fighting an older boy over an insult to her, no less - and she had really had no choice but to wash him after he confessed to her about his irrational fear of water. To Rebecca, his fear made a certain amount of sense. The poor boy had almost drowned in that ditch she had found him in. Perhaps he couldn't remember his struggles yet, but she would bet that falling into the cold, rushing water and flailing about helplessly had played a large part in creating that fear.

She smiled to herself. He had been so cute, the way he got embarrassed when he got an erection from her actions. If he had been ten to twenty years older, she probably would have sucked his cock. She had been sorely tempted to do it, which had really surprised her. While it was true that she tended to date younger men, she had never, ever considered 'robbing the cradle' and encouraging a minor to have sex with her! As she washed her breasts, she thought about her own lackluster dating experiences.

Her huge breasts had made it rather hard to make friends with other girls, who envied her larger chest and the inevitable attention she got from all the guys. But it also made it very hard for her to have a normal romantic relationship with any guy. The 'nice guys' were intimidated by how sexy she was, and usually wouldn't dare ask her for a date, nor would they believe her if she asked them out. The 'bad boys' were obsessed with her breasts and expected her to jump into bed with them and go all the way on the first date, and couldn't accept that the last thing she wanted to do was risk getting pregnant and having her breasts get even bigger! She soon had a bad reputation even in middle school, because of lies spread by her rejected boyfriends. She was very lonely, and was still a virgin, until after she moved halfway across the country, far away from everyone who knew her, to go to college. And she never went back to her home town again.

By the time she was twenty-one she had become starved for affection, and had learned to be very firm - even domineering - with the few guys she dated. She began to seek younger men who were less sure of themselves, and more willing to let an older and somewhat dominant woman call the shots and set the pace. But she had never encouraged anyone less than 18! Admittedly, the last guy she had dated was only barely 21. But he had only been a one night stand, and since she dropped that guy, she hadn't had a date in the last five months. As she soaped her legs, she decided that she was fairly certain that her sexual frustration from not having a boyfriend was what had tempted her to suck the child off. She tried to deny those lustful thoughts as she continued her bath.

Of course, like any other girl, she had her own romantic fantasies about falling in love and marrying a guy who loved her for her sake as a person, and not just because she had huge knockers. She would dream of getting married and becoming a mom, and of the unconditional love and affection that a child gives their mother. Yet at the same time, she feared getting pregnant, because her breasts would probably get even bigger than they were now.

She had to admit that Arthur had really triggered her maternal urges. Every time she looked at the boy, she wanted to mother him and cuddle him and not let him go. She shook her head ruefully. Surely, sometime soon, she would see a missing child report that matched his description, or someone from child protective services or even the police would come knocking at her door, and she would have to help reunite him with his parents. She knew she couldn't keep him. And yet it would be so tempting to raise him as her son. Taking care of Arthur gave her all the benefits of being a mom, without risking pregnancy or having to change diapers!

She rinsed herself off and reached over to the stool that she had set up beside the tub, with her razor and shaving cream on it. While she had the bathwater handy, she needed to shave her arm pits, her legs, and her pubic hair. She stood in the tub while she did her legs and arm pits, rinsed off, and then got out of the tub and sat on the stool facing her bedroom, to lather up her groin and shave off the stubble of her pubic hair.

===

Out in the hallway, Arthur was frightened enough of the possibility of getting caught that he couldn't quite bring himself off. Masturbating felt great, and seeing Rebecca naked and soapy was very stimulating, but he just wasn't quite there yet. As she stood to shave her legs, he got his first look at her lovely, well-rounded ass. In Arthur's opinion, her butt was just as pretty a feature as her boobs were. With that huge rack, trim waist, and firm, well-rounded ass, Rebecca was pretty much Arthur's dream of an ideal woman. And here he was getting to watch her bathing! When Rebecca got out of the tub and started to shave away all of her pubic hair, he stopped jacking off and got on his hands and knees, staying low and peeking around the door frame carefully. He didn't want to miss a moment of this, and yet he was terrified that she would look up from what she was doing and see him looking at her in that mirror!

===

As a professional model, Rebecca had to wear many different kinds of bikinis and panties. The majority of them were incredibly tiny in front. The photographers and the companies that hired her for lingerie and swimsuit photo sessions didn't want to see any pubic hair sticking out around the edges, no matter how tiny the panties or bikini bottoms were. So it was easier just to shave off all of her pubic hair, and keep herself as smooth and bald as a little girl down there.

It had been a few days since she had a nude or lingerie modeling session, and she had let her pubic hair grow out a bit. But tomorrow she had a new assignment, to pose for pictures to go in a lingerie catalog, so she needed to get perfectly smooth and bare down there again. She would touch it up with a razor again just before she left for the photo studio, but if she shaved it well tonight, she would have less irritation and redness tomorrow.

She carefully trimmed away every last pubic hair, wiping the stray bits of shaving cream away with a wet washrag, and inspecting herself with a mirror to make sure she had gotten all of it. Then she wet her hands with a strawberry-scented massage and lubricating oil, and started rubbing her mound, to soothe the skin and eliminate any razor rash. She always liked this part of her grooming. Even if she didn't try to masturbate, applying the soothing oil felt very good. And more often than not, she would continue rubbing herself until she had one or two orgasms. This was going to be one of those nights. She couldn't dally too long - she still needed to make dinner for Arthur and herself. But she needed a release now, so she wouldn't be so tempted to molest the poor innocent boy.

===

Arthur wasn't being at all innocent right now. He was on his hands and knees in the hallway, staring at Rebecca's reflection as she masturbated, and franticly jacking off with one hand. God she was hot! She was so incredibly sexy as she masturbated with her eyes closed. He wanted to crawl over to her and beg to suck on her beautiful breasts. He fantasized about what it would be like to be her lover. He imagined her astride him cowgirl-style, riding his cock and using him for her pleasure. He... he... he almost bit his tongue as he climaxed, his creamy seed spurting freely onto the carpet beside her bedroom door.

As his breathing slowed and his mind started working somewhat normally again, he stared at the small, slimy puddle that he had just created. He had nothing to clean it up with, but he couldn't just leave it there as proof that he had jacked off at her bedroom door! Her hastily rubbed it into the carpet, and prayed it wouldn't leave a stain. Then he backed away from the door, back toward the guest bedroom, to get dressed. He heard her cry out as he backed away, and he quickly scampered back into the room and threw on some clothes, terrified that she had seen him.

===

In the bathroom, Rebecca was now masturbating with both hands. The fingers of one hand plunged in and out of her vagina, while the other rapidly brushed back and forth across her clitoris, until she cried out with a powerful orgasm. After that first involuntary outburst, she closed her mouth tightly and whimpered as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Had Arthur heard her? She hoped he hadn't! How could she explain her lewd actions to such an innocent child!

After two back to back orgasms, she wiped the excess oil from her hands and crotch, and unsteadily went to her bedroom to get dressed. Her legs were still weak from her naughty fun. She noted the open door and chided herself for her carelessness. She wasn't used to having anyone else in her home, or to having any need to close the doors to her bedroom. She would have to be careful not to leave them open now, so she wouldn't expose herself to young Arthur.

She slipped on a lacy pink thong, and then selected one of her pink and white steel-boned full-length corsets from her dresser. It wasn't easy to lace up a corset on her own, but she'd had plenty of practice at the task. She fastened the twelve steel clasps of the metal busk that ran down the center of her chest, adjusted her breasts in the bra cups of the loose corset, and then took the loops of the lacing cords from behind her and hooked them over the doorknobs of the bathroom door. By backing away from the door, she could keep tension on the cords as she reached behind herself and used both hands to slowly tighten the lacing of the corset. Working carefully from the top to her waist, and then from the bottom back to her waist, she cinched the garment tighter and tighter, until she had a couple of feet of lacing pulled out and stretched taut between herself and the doorknobs. Each pass cinched her waist in tighter, and pushed her breasts up a little more. When she was satisfied that it was tight enough, but that she could still breathe, she took the laces in one hand, unhooked them from the doorknobs, and tied them in a bow around her slender waist. She tucked the loose ends under the cords that encircled her waist, and then adjusted her breasts again in the bra cups of the corset.

With a figure like hers, a good corset wasn't just sexy underwear - it was a necessity! It supported the weight of her massive breasts without suspending that weight from her neck and shoulders. She had learned the hard way that even the best of bras by itself would give her a severe headache from the strain the weight of her breasts placed on her neck and shoulders. And the corset also supported her back, so the weight of her breasts wouldn't give her backaches. The only times she didn't wear a corset was when she was sleeping, swimming or bathing, or when she was trying to deemphasize her figure while she went shopping, or when leaving the house for a modeling assignment.

She admired herself for a moment in the mirror. She hadn't intended to select a particularly sexy corset, but this one supported her breasts from below with underwire-strengthened half cups, and left the upper half of her breasts fully exposed, and her nipples peeking out just above the lace-trimmed edge of the corset's bra cups. Her nipples were firm and hard, as she was still aroused from her recent masturbating.

Once her corset was on, she slipped on her thigh-high, black nylon stockings and fastened them to six garter straps that hung down from the lower edge of the corset. Then she put on a red silk blouse with a scandalously low neckline, a short, mid-thigh length black skirt, and black high heels. She admired herself again for a moment in the dressing mirror, and then sat at her dressing table and quickly did her makeup, keeping her look understated and 'natural', using the makeup only to remove the few imperfections in her otherwise flawless skin. It never occurred to her that she was dressing just like she would if she was preparing for a date. She simply wanted to 'look nice' for her young guest.

===

When Rebecca came into the guest bedroom from the hallway to check on him, Arthur was dressed in a clean t-shirt and short pants, with his socks on and with his shoes beside the bed. He was reading the comics from the previous day's newspaper, while resting with his head on the pink pillow of his bed.

"Would you like anything in particular for dinner dear?" Rebecca asked.

Arthur looked up, and blushed. "Wow! You look really pretty ma'am! Ummm, could we have spaghetti maybe?"

"I think I have all the ingredients for that, yes," Rebecca said, smiling at the boy's complement. "You like spaghetti?"

"Yeah, sure! And I like macaroni and cheese, and hot dogs, and burgers, and pizza, too," Arthur said enthusiastically, as he tried to remember the sorts of foods he had loved as a kid. "I'm not a very picky eater, ma'am. I'll be happy with whatever you feel like fixing."

"Well! I'm glad to see your appetite is getting better!" Rebecca said. "How are you feeling, other than that? Can you remember anything more about your family? I'm sure they must be worried sick about you."

"Can't remember much, no," Arthur lied. "It's really strange. I can remember things like visiting a friend, and him showing me how to find stuff on the Internet. I can remember all sorts of things about what his room looked like. But if I try to recall his face, I can't. It's like I was alone in the room. I can remember school classrooms and a playground, but not where it was, or what any of the teachers or other kids looked like or what their names were. It's like all the people in my life just vanished, including me!"

"Oh! You poor dear. That must be so terrifying!" Rebecca replied. "Well, I'm not going to disappear on you. I can promise you that, all right? Would you like to watch some TV while I make dinner?"

"I guess so," Arthur said. "Maybe I'll see something there that will help me to remember."

===

Arthur sat on the floor between the couch and the TV and found a cartoon show to watch while Rebecca cooked their meal. The show was pretty silly, in his opinion, but he seemed to remember it was popular with young boys. At least the ads on TV for the related toys gave that impression.

Rebecca brought in their dinner on lap trays for them both, set them on the coffee table, and sat on the couch, and said, "Sit beside me, dear. We'll eat here, while we watch the news."

Arthur turned to look at her, and got a perfect upskirt peek at her pink thong. He could clearly see her shaved pubic mound through the sheer lace. "Uhhh, sure," he said, scrambling to get beside her and trying not to make it obvious that he had been looking at her panties.

Rebecca changed the channel and they watched the news together as they sat side by side on the couch. The main news stories were still about people in the area recovering from the storm, and about the forest fire that the lightning had set off. The fire department said they finally had the fire contained, and were working on getting the last hot spots extinguished. Every available fire truck from Carver City and from all of the neighboring towns had converged on the scene to help out. Four suburban neighborhoods had been burned badly. Hundreds of families were living in temporary shelters, homeless but just grateful to still be alive. Many others had not been so fortunate. Whole families had been caught in their sleep as the fire surged over their homes, and had perished. Many of the survivors had lost one or more members of their families.

Rebecca looked at Arthur as the news continued to talk about neighborhoods that still had no power, and that schools would be closed all week, and about various rescue efforts. The boy was very quiet. Too quiet. Of course, it was quite possible that one of those families that had died might have been his own. One of the devastated neighborhoods hadn't been very far away from the highway where she had found him. Some of those victims that they showed pictures of might even have been his parents, or his brothers or sisters. She should have realized that this might be too traumatic for him to see.

"This isn't upsetting you, is it?" she asked. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. We should turn it off."

===

But Arthur wasn't upset. He was thinking, hard. He was trying to piece together what the news stories were saying, to build some sort of reasonable story for where he had come from. The burned down homes on the TV had been completely unrecognizable. He couldn't claim that one of them reminded him of his home. The newscaster only named a few victims, and the pictures of the victims were all people that couldn't possibly have been the family of a pale-skinned blue-eyed boy. Still, with that many families wiped out, it shouldn't be hard to claim that his family had all died in that storm or in the fire.

"I'm fine. Really. You can leave it on," he said. "Wow. A whole lot of people got hurt by that storm, huh? Some of them died, or got hurt a lot worse than me."

"Yes, it was very bad," Rebecca said. "And if I hadn't found you when I did, you probably would have died in that storm too. You were unconscious, and in enough water to easily drown in, and you were also freezing to death. Arthur? It's... it's okay to be happy that you survived. It doesn't make you a bad person to be glad that you weren't one of the people who died that night."

"Yeah, I know that," Arthur said, placing his tray on the coffee table. "And I'm really grateful that you saved me and all that." He stared down at his lap, and then breathed a big sigh.

"It's also okay to be sad that your family might not have survived, Arthur," Rebecca said, as gently as she could. "There's no shame in crying over a loss like that. No one will see you but me, and I won't ever say anything bad about you if you need to have a good cry right now." She set her own tray on the coffee table beside his, and placed an arm around the boy. She wanted to pull him close, and to cuddle and reassure him. But she also felt that he had to take this at his own pace.

"Yeah... I... I think that might be what happened though," he said slowly, as he leaned against her. "I mean, if my parents survived it, wouldn't they be there on the TV, wailing about their missing son, like some of those other parents were about their kids?"

"That's true. I can't imagine anyone losing a boy like you and not being heartbroken over their loss," Rebecca said. "Yes, I think that if they possibly could, they would have at least reported you missing by now. Every day since I found you, I've been checking the lists in the paper with the names and descriptions of missing kids. Nothing so far sounds the least bit like you. But you mustn't give up hope, Arthur! Perhaps your parents are in the hospital, getting better, but still too sick or injured to tell anyone that you're missing? Or perhaps they were certain that you died when your home burned down, but they didn't see you slipping out a back window and running the other way? Until your memory comes back, we won't know how you wound up in that ditch. If only we knew what happened that night, that could tell us where to start looking for your family. Can you remember anything else at all dear?"

"I... remember thunder waking me up. Really loud thunder, and a bright flash of light. I was in a bed, but I don't think it was my bed. There... well, there wasn't any of the stuff in the room that I'd think a boy my age would have, you know? No toys or posters or personal stuff. Then... well, something kinda blew up, and there was a hole in the wall, and the place was on fire. The fire really scared me. I ran out into the storm, and then... I just can't remember anything more," Arthur said. "I'm sorry."

"That sounds like you were in a building that was struck by lightning and caught fire. Let's see if we can start with that," she said. Rebecca turned off the TV and led the boy to her computer, in the small office that was adjacent to the living room. She logged in to the computer and started doing some searches on the Internet. Arthur dragged a second chair closer and sat beside her. Several minutes later, she said, "You were wearing the kind of disposable pajamas that hospital patients wear. Two hospitals and three private clinics all reported lightning-caused files. Maybe you were a patient at one of them?"

"Was I wearing a hospital bracelet? Wouldn't that have had my name on it, if I had been in a hospital or a private clinic?" Arthur asked. He could see on the screen that the Davis Neurological Research Center was one of the places she had found in her search. But he didn't want her looking too closely at that possibility. It was too likely that if she did, she might find out that he wasn't the innocent boy that he appeared to be.

"Well, no, you didn't have any sort of ID on you at all, not even one of those bracelets. But why else would you have been wearing such flimsy pajamas?" Rebecca asked.

"Ummmm, maybe I was staying at a friend's house, and he gave them to me? What if one of his parents worked at a hospital or clinic? Couldn't they have had access to stuff like that?" Arthur suggested. "I mean, if that storm came up sudden-like and I hadn't been planning on spending the night, they might have loaned me something like that, right?"

"I suppose so," Rebecca said. "Well, then maybe you were in the Fernwood neighborhood? It had several house fires, and it's only a mile and a half from the highway."

"Maybe. But that doesn't sound familiar." Arthur replied.

Rebecca did a few more searches, and then she closed the web browser. She looked at him very seriously, and then she said, "Arthur? I know you want to get back to your family, if that's possible. Certainly, if we can manage to locate your family, I'll do all I can to get you back together with them. But I think there is a very strong possibility that there's no one for you to go back to. So... I'd like to... well, I'd like to offer you a home here, with me. For as long as you need it. Would... would you let me be your mommy? At least until we find your real family?"

"You really mean that?" Arthur said, hugging her tightly. He leaned his head on one of her breasts and looked up at her, and then said, "That would be really swell!" Then he looked confused and said, "Why do you feel so stiff under your shirt?"

Rebecca laughed and said, "I'm wearing a corset, dear. It's a lady's undergarment that supports my breasts and back."

"Oh, okay," Arthur said, hugging her again and resting his head innocently on one of her breasts. "You really want to be my mommy? That would be so nice!"

Rebecca returned his hug, and then said, "Yes, I really mean it. But Arthur, I want you to listen to me very carefully now. If you want to stay with me, we... well, we may need to do some things that aren't exactly legal. It's not like you were just a lost puppy that I found. Legally... well what I should do is let the police know that I found you, and where and how, and let them get you back together with your family. But if I do that, I'll probably never see you again. I'm certain they would take you from me and put you in a foster home, while they tried to find your family. And if they couldn't find your family, you'd probably be put up for adoption. They always have lists of people waiting to adopt a nice kid like you. So even if I offered to provide your foster care while they searched for your family, and said I wanted to adopt you if your family was gone, they are far more likely to place you with a family that had already been approved for foster care or adoption. Face it, as a single woman and a model who poses nude in men's magazines, I'm not exactly the sort of person they like to put kids with for foster care or adoption."

"So don't tell them! At least, not unless we think we've found my family. What's wrong with that?" Arthur asked innocently. "I mean, they gotta be swamped with kids and families that don't have someone nice like you already taking care of them, right? If we get caught, you could just say you were waiting for the worst of the disaster to be dealt with, before turning me in."

"I wish it was that easy. I really do," Rebecca said. "But think about it. My neighbors are sure to see you eventually, and wonder where you came from, and why you're not in school. Some of them have probably already seen you. But I can't enroll you for school without proof that I'm legally your guardian, and without the information about where you came from and where you've been going to school for the last five or six years. If I contact a school, and can't provide that information, they will call the police.

"Then what do we do?" Arthur asked, suddenly quite genuinely worried. "It sounds hopeless."

"Well, my neighbors don't know me very well. I tend to keep to myself. I could say that... OH! Oh, that would be too perfect!" she said. It was like a light switch had been turned on inside her, and suddenly she knew exactly how to make this work.

"What?" Arthur asked. "What would be perfect?"

"A storm brought you to me, and a storm can explain where you came from. Or at least, why I don't have most of your records," she replied. "I grew up in a small town on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. When I turned eighteen, I left home to go to college. I graduated about the time you were born, and then I moved to this town. Last year, there was a really bad hurricane where my parents live. They managed to evacuate and stay safe, but the town was pretty much leveled. That much is all completely true."

"So... we say what then? How does a storm last year, somewhere far away, explain me being here with you now?" Arthur asked.

"We could say that I got pregnant near the end of my last year of college, and that I went to my parent's home and had the baby there," Rebecca said. "We could say that I was too ashamed of being a single mother to go to a hospital or to publicly register your birth, and that I wasn't ready to be a mom, so I let my parents take care of you and raise you, while I tried to get work here as a model. If they had home-schooled you from the very beginning, the schools there wouldn't have any records for you. And if they had been caring for you, that storm last year would have suddenly made it a lot harder for them to take care of you, while they were rebuilding their home and putting their own lives back together. It also could easily have destroyed your original birth certificate if I had filed for one, and the county and city records of your birth and school progress. Finally, I could say my mom and dad just recently sent you to me to continue raising you."

"But that still doesn't give us any proof that I'm your son," Arthur pointed out. "Would your parents lie about something like that for you?"

"No, and I wouldn't ask mom and dad to lie about anything that important. But mom sent me this for safe keeping, after the hurricane," Rebecca said, getting up and taking an old-looking book from the bookshelf. She handed it to Arthur, and he saw it was an old bible. "That is what will prove that you're my son."

"What good is an old bible?" Arthur asked, quite genuinely confused now. "And how can that prove anything about me?"

She leafed through the front pages of the old bible and showed him dozens of handwritten notes, in several different types of handwriting. Each entry showed one or two names, what the event was, a date, a place, and then a person's signature. "Did you know that it isn't legally required to file for a birth certificate when a child is born? Some families prefer to keep their own records, and they will use a family bible for that, even if they aren't particularly religious. Before there was the kind of government record keeping we had today, hand-written notes in a family bible were often the only record of births, marriages and deaths. And in the old days it was considered a very special book, so you'd protect it and it would be one of the few things you would be certain to save from a fire or other disaster if you could. I had a friend in college whose family really didn't trust the government. They never filed for a birth certificate or social security number for her. When she wanted to get a driver's license, and had to file for a delayed certificate of birth first, and had to use an entry her mom had made in their family bible to prove when and where she was born. She told me all about it."

"So stuff written in a bible is considered legal proof? Wow," Arthur said. "How does that work?"

Rebecca pointed to one page and said, "See here? That's where my mom recorded my birth. And there's the record for when my grandpa died. And there is the one for when mom married my dad. And there's the one for when grandma recorded my mom's birth. This bible originally belonged to my great grandmother, and every birth, death and wedding in the immediate family has been recorded here, as the bible got passed down from mother to daughter. Well, if I really was your mom, and if I had recorded your birth in our family bible, that could be used as partial proof for getting you a birth certificate, even at your age. If I fill out an affidavit that I'm your mother, provide a photocopy of an entry like that for you in my bible, and file the right paperwork, we can get you a birth certificate that says you really are my son," Rebecca explained. "But if we do that, we're committed to keeping that lie going for as long as we live, Arthur. If I get caught lying on that kind of government legal paperwork, they could send me to jail."

"You'd risk going to jail for me? Really?" Arthur asked. "Wow, that's really swell! If you do that, I sure would promise to never, ever tell anyone that we lied about that! I'd tell everybody that you're my mommy, and that my grandparents raised me at first. Ummm... I guess you better tell me their names and stuff. The stuff I'd know if that was true. Oh! But what will happen when your parents finally meet me?"

"I'll tell them that you were born here, a little while after I moved here, right after college, and that I was ashamed of being a single mom and that was why I didn't tell them," Rebecca said. "But you probably won't ever meet them. My parents don't much approve of the nude modeling work that I do. We send each other cards on the holidays and birthdays, and exchange presents, but I haven't been home to see them since college, and they never come to visit. They also decided to go for a minimalist lifestyle after losing everything in that hurricane. They don't have a phone or Internet, and they live self-sufficiently in a little cabin in the woods. No public official is going to find them, if I don't tell them where to start looking."

"Well, I don't wanna get you in trouble, but... why don't we just pretend you're my mom for now, and worry about the legal stuff when we have no choice," Arthur suggested. "I mean, if what you're suggesting we say was really true, you wouldn't have any proof here other than that bible. And you might have to look in storage boxes to find it, right?"

"I think that might work, yes," Rebecca said. "You're such a bright boy! I'm going to enjoy being your mother!"

That night, Rebecca carefully wrote an entry in her bible that claimed Arthur had been born almost eleven years earlier, during the summer after her college graduation. She chose September 7th as his birthday. Then she carefully put the old bible in her cedar chest with some other family heirlooms, like an old quilt her great grandmother had made, and she started teaching Arthur his 'family history'.

===

When they were both too tired to continue, Arthur put on the pajamas that Rebecca had bought for him, and he got into his bed in the guest bedroom. Rebecca tucked him in and kissed him good night, saying, "Sweet dreams, my son. I'll leave the bathroom doors open tonight. If you have any bad dreams tonight, you let me know."

"Thanks mommy," Arthur said. "I love you."

===

It rained that night, and with the rain came thunder. Rebecca was awakened by Arthur gently touching her shoulder. She rolled over and saw the boy. His eyes were as big as saucers, and he said, "M-mommy? I'm s-scared! C-can I sleep with you? P-please?"

Rebecca was only wearing a lacy red baby-doll nightie with thong panties. But she lifted the blanket and said, "Well... I suppose it will be all right."

"Thank you mommy!" Arthur said. He got into the bed as quickly as he could. Then he snuggled close behind Rebecca as soon as she rolled over, and swiftly fell asleep.

===

In the morning Rebecca woke up with Arthur's arm draped over her, and his hand on her bare breast. He was still spooned behind her, and his cock was hard and pressed against the crack of her ass. She gently lifted his hand and rolled over, intending to admonish him. But the boy was sound asleep, and looked as innocent as an angel.

She could see through her window that the storm had passed, and it was going to be a nice day today. She quietly slipped out of bed and used the bathroom, and then closed the bathroom door and shaved her legs and her pubic area.

===

Arthur had been playing possum in her bed. He had awakened almost half an hour before Rebecca did, and he had thoroughly enjoyed snuggling with her. He had been sorely tempted to pull down his pajama bottoms and feel his bare cock rubbing in the crack of her wonderful ass. He settled for rubbing against her with just the thin fabric of his PJ's between them, which still felt fantastic. When that didn't wake her up, he boldly had slipped one arm around her trim waist, and up under her nightgown. When his hand touched her breast, he almost came in his pants. He was actually fondling those magnificent tits! He touched her nipple, and she moaned in her sleep. When she started to wake up, he had to leave his arm draped across her, with his open hand on her breast, and hoped she would think he has simply embraced her in his sleep.

It had taken almost all his willpower to remain limp and apparently asleep when she rolled over, and then got out of bed. When he heard the bathroom door close, he dared to open his eyes a crack. Then he rolled over so he was facing her dressing area, and pretended to be asleep again, while watching for her through his eyelashes.

===

Rebecca went back into her bedroom, with her thong in one hand and naked below the waist. Arthur appeared to still be asleep in her bed, so she went to her dresser, tossed the thong into her hamper, sent her nightgown after it, and started selecting her underwear for the day. She put on a black silk and lace custom underwire bra that was sold by the company that she was modeling for today. They would have fresh lingerie for her to change into for shooting the ad photos, but it was always appreciated if she arrived wearing their products. Likewise she put on a black thong panty from their catalog. She really wanted to put on a corset, but the corset would leave marks on her skin that couldn't be there for the start of the photo session, when she would be modeling bras and bikini panties. So she had to do without one until the later parts of the assignment, where she would be wearing their line of shapewear. The elasticized corsets and girdles that this company sold couldn't compare to her favorite steel boned corsets, but they would give her the underwear she modeled to keep after the session, and one of their long-line bra and girdle sets would at least make the drive home more comfortable.

===

Arthur peeked at Rebecca as she got dressed. The tiny black thong made her gorgeous ass even more sexy and inviting than when she had been fully naked. He waited until she had her dress and shoes and stockings on before he yawned and rolled over. "Wha? Oh, yeah..." he said, acting sleep muddled and then rolling back over in her direction to look at her. "Good morning mommy! Hummm. You're always so pretty!"

"Good morning, Arthur. You certainly slept well once you joined me," Rebecca said.

"Yeah. The thunder was scary, but having you close to me, I knew I was safe," he said. "Oh! Gotta use the bathroom. 'scuse me!"

"Get dressed and come down for breakfast as soon as you're done in there," she said, as he closed the bathroom door between them.

"Mummkay, mommy!" Arthur said. He hoped she hadn't noticed his erection, or that if she did, she would chalk it up to 'morning wood' and the need to use the toilet.

===

As Rebecca fixed breakfast for Arthur, she said, "I have a modeling job today dear. Pictures for a lingerie catalog. Will you be all right here all alone?"

"Oh sure!" Arthur said. "But, ummm, could I have the password for the computer? I'd like to check out some web comics and play some computer games, and maybe I can do some more searching to help find my family. Would that be okay?"

"I don't see any harm in that," she said, as she logged in. "Just don't mess with anything in these four folders, okay? There are no games or programs you'll need in there." She set up a separate login account for him on the main system, and set a new password just for him, then showed him where the web browser and games were.

"Okay! I think I have it figured out. I must have had the same type of computer at home or at school. All this stuff with the mouse and how to open programs seems familiar," Arthur said. "Have a good day at work... mommy!"

===

As soon as Rebecca was gone, Arthur looked up everything he could find out about the Davis Neurological Research Center, and the fire they had there. Apparently, three staff members and two patients had been reported killed in a lightning-caused explosion and fire at the facility. The staff member's names were listed in one of the news articles, and Arthur recognized two of them as people who had been involved in the research project that he had been a volunteer for. But the names of the patients who had died were not disclosed.

"All right then," Arthur said to himself. "Let's see if I can find out anything more." He followed a link on the research center's website to a section that was for patients and staff only. He had an account and password for that area, so he could schedule his testing sessions and verify both current and past scheduled sessions.

His password let him into the patient feedback and scheduling section. But when he tried to open the link for checking his personal schedule, he got an access denied error, and it stated the research project had been terminated. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get into his own records as he had in the past.

After the fourth failed attempt, a chat window popped up. It read, "You seem to be having access issues. I'm Cindy. Can I help you in locating a particular project director?"

"My password isn't working, Cindy. Can you reset it?" Arthur typed.

"I'm sorry, only a project director can authorize that. Which project director were you working with?" was her reply.

"The project director was Robert Carston. Project code MR926-Z. I was a volunteer subject," Arthur typed back. He knew that Doctor Carston was listed as one of the people who had died in the fire, but he hoped he could bluff his way through to talk to some surviving member of the research team. "My phone service is still out from the storm. Can you possibly get him on this chat with me?"

There was a much longer delay, and then Cindy replied, "I'm afraid that is impossible, sir. Doctor Carston died the night of the storm. His project has been cancelled. Would you like to talk to our operations director about volunteering for one of our other studies?"

"Ah, that would explain why I can't access the records for that project then," Arthur typed. "Actually, I would like to talk to anyone else that was involved in project MR926-Z, if they can spare a few minutes. If I can't get to my treatment records, perhaps they could confirm a few things for me."

"One moment please," Cindy typed. "Can you please confirm your test subject ID number and password?"

Arthur typed that information, and there was a much longer delay. After several minutes, a second popup window opened, with a new chat session. In the first window, Cindy logged off without further comments. In the new window came the curt response, "This is Ted Simmons from the somatic research department. You appear to be inquiring about a test subject who is deceased, yet you have their correct ID code and password. Who is this, really? Are you a police officer?"

That gave Arthur quite a jolt. He took a deep breath and typed, "Deceased, eh? All right, I'll come clean. I'm a private investigator, hired by his landlady. He's been missing since the storm, and was two weeks late on his rent. The landlady thought he had skipped town without paying what he owed her. She let me look around in his place, and I found some notes he had written about a research program at your facility that he had volunteered for. It had the project number as well as his test subject ID number and password written on it. He apparently had no relatives in the area, and few friends. You were my best lead on where he might be or who else he might have had contact with. Can you tell me how he died?"

"We already filed a report with the county coroner, so it's a matter of public record, or will be once his out of area relatives have been located and informed, I suppose," Ted replied. "But his relatives haven't responded to us yet, so this is off the record, and I don't want to see it in the newspapers, out of respect for his family. Do I have your word on that?"

"Fine with me. I'm an investigator, not a reporter. I just need to be able to tell the landlady that he's definitely dead, and that she'll have to get her back rent out of the poor guy's estate. Determining who is to blame, if anyone, is the police coroner's job, not mine." Arthur typed.

Ted typed back, "It was strictly accidental. Mister Jameson was asleep in our facility the night of the storm, undergoing testing. It was just perfectly harmless recording of his brainwaves while sleeping, and the coroner has already certified that our testing was in no way responsible for his death. A lightning bolt struck a power conduit on the side of the building near the room that he was in. That caused several oxygen tanks inside the building to explode, and started a fire. The explosion killed him instantly, I'm afraid."

"I see. Well, thank you for your candor," Arthur typed back. "Good luck with his family. My condolences to them."

Arthur closed the chat window and logged off from the website. For several minutes he just stared at the web browser's search page. "So... I'm dead? Then why am I here, and in the body of a kid? This makes no sense at all!"

He still wanted to know how he could possibly be a child now, if he was supposedly dead. The answer had to involve that Research Center somehow. But when he went back to the website, he found his account and password had been deactivated. "Why would they lock out my account that fast after talking to me?" Arthur asked himself. "They hadn't bothered to lock it out for several days after they knew I was dead, and I couldn't get anywhere with that account and password. Or could I? Maybe there was other information in the private section of their website that they didn't want a private investigator poking around in?"

When he had gone to college, Arthur had taken a few computer classes, like pretty much everyone else did. He's gotten B's and C's, like in most of his classes. But he had a professor in one class that encouraged the students to be hackers. Technically, the instructor was teaching them how to make safe and secure passwords for their accounts. But in teaching the course he had shown them several websites where password cracking tools and other software for breaking into computer systems could be downloaded. In class, they had used those 'password cracker' tools to try and defeat each other's passwords. It had been an eye-opening experience, as many of the student's passwords and even a few set by the instructor fell in minutes. Only two students out of a class of eighty had managed to create secure passwords that couldn't be cracked in four hours with those tools. Arthur located two of those websites and downloaded a dozen or so of those hacker tools. Each of them came with step by step tutorials on exactly how to use them.

Four and a half hours later, he had located an internal system that could be accessed via an obscure link on the research center's public website. Using the contacts directory from the public site, and a few searches of those people's names for their on-line resumes and Facebook pages, he built a list of 'personal data' that people might be stupid enough to use as their passwords. Routing the cracker attacks through two proxy websites to prevent it from easily being traced to Rebecca's computer, Arthur had found four accounts that he could easily crack the passwords on, including one technician in the somatic research department that used his dog's name spelled backwards as his password. That got him far enough to see a web-based interface for their internal e-mail and instant messaging system, and how the employee's e-mail addresses were set up. He added that information to three of the password cracking tools, and set them running as background tasks on Rebecca's computer.

He made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for his lunch, intentionally leaving the bread and peanut butter and jelly out on the kitchen counter like a kid might do, and then came back to the computer and brought up a web browser again. This time, he was looking for a deceased family that he could claim to be from, so Rebecca would believe he really was orphaned.

He was still looking when Rebecca came home. "Hi mom," he said sullenly. "Still no luck finding my family. What have you got there?" he asked, noting she had several shopping bags.

"Well, I bought some home schooling materials, so I can test you for your grade level and keep your education going," Rebecca said. "I'll need to be able to show that you can pass a fifth grade competency test, if the school district wants proof that you're being properly home schooled. And even if no one questions you being with me, you'll need to keep up with your education, dear."

"Okay mom," Arthur said. "I don't mind that. I think I'll do pretty good on those tests."

===

By dinner time, Arthur had taken three evaluation tests. He easily passed the 5th grade test, and got solid scores on the 6th grade test as well. When he took the 7th grade test, he intentionally started getting questions wrong, so it wouldn't look like he had more education than seemed reasonable.

"Well! It looks like you were finishing 6th grade before you lost your memory," Rebecca said. "Your amnesia certainly doesn't seem to be affecting your ability to remember your school work. Even the names and dates for the social studies and history tests seemed easy for you."

"Yeah, remembering old kings and presidents and stuff doesn't seem to be a problem," Arthur said. "It's the people who should have been close to me that I can't remember."

"You poor dear!" Rebecca said, cuddling him to her breasts.

Arthur enjoyed having his face pressed into her ample cleavage, and he hugged her in return. "I'll be all right as long as I have you, mommy," he said. "What's for dinner?"