Jess Taylor ambled swiftly up the driveway, fishing his keys out of his pocket as he approached the front door. He was a boy on a tight schedule; his Mother would arrive home at five, dinner would be on the table no later than six. That left him less than three hours of free play; three hours of simple, childish joy in the late September sunshine, three hours on the swings and slides and monkey-bars down at O'Connell Park.

Heart pounding with excitement, Jess let himself into the house, dropping his backpack in the hallway. His Mother would probably give him grief over that later, but he was in too much of a hurry to consider the consequences. Heading towards the staircase, he unzipped his jacket and bolted up the steps two at a time. It was 3.15 in the afternoon; the day wasn't getting any longer.

Leaving his jacket hanging over the banister, he scrambled into his bedroom, hurriedly pulling his t-shirt over his head. Six hours a day in the school from hell, surrounded by creeps, cretins and bullies. He couldn't wait to get changed, kick off his school clothes and slip into something more comfortable - so to speak.

Pausing in the middle of the room, Jess climbed out of his jeans and walked over to the closet, a petite, twelve-year old boy with long blond hair and pale blue eyes. His soft, effeminate features lent him a lush, girlish appearance, the illusion further enhanced by his rounded, curvaceous shape. Exceedingly pretty, he was often mistaken for a girl at first glance. Strange to say, this was something Jess didn't mind at all.

Jess, you see, was a very special boy.

He opened the closet door and started sorting through the racks and hangers. One side of the space was full of boy's clothing - pants, shirts, gym socks, boxer shorts and runners. Jess didn't spare it a second glance. Boy's stuff; ugly, scruffy things, he'd never had much use for them. He certainly never wore them once he got home from school. The moment he stepped in through the front door, Jess was free to shed his male identity as a snake sloughs its skin. He could be his real self.

Jessica.

The right side of the closet was lined with cutesy little girl's things: skirts, vests, tank tops; printed floral blouses with puffy sleeves, drop-waisted sunfrocks with outrageously frilled hemlines. They were all gifts from his Momma; stock-taking specials from her downtown kidswear store. Strangely enough, she'd always been surprisingly tolerant of his feminine preferences, even going out of her way to encourage his cross-gendered behavior. Jessie suspected it had something to do with her not liking men.

Jessie reached into the closet and removed a pastel pink sun-dress, a delicate cotton wisp decorated with tiny rosebuds around the neck line. Sheer, loose and almost unbearably cute, it was one of his all-time favorites. Momma had helped him pick it out for his last birthday. It had been one size too big at the time, but he'd grown into it over the past nine months.

Laying the frock out on his bed, Jess walked over to his chest of drawers and took out a pair of pristine white panties - flimsy cotton briefs with a dainty trim encircling the legs and waistline. Jessie's pulse began to race as he stepped carefully into the underpants and drew them slowly up his thighs. Easing the pants into position with a loud, elastic snap, he went back to the bed and pulled the sundress over his head.

And, in the blink of an eye, a boy became a girl.

Smoothing the cool fabric against her tummy, Jessie turned to look in the mirror, smiling at what she saw. The boy she been a few minutes before had disappeared without a trace. Jess Taylor had vanished the instant she'd kicked off the jeans. No - that was wrong. Jess Taylor had never really existed in the first place. He was just a mask she wore during school hours. A mask, a name, and nothing more (quoth the raven ...).

Giggling a child's innocent laughter, Jessica spun around several times to make the skirt twirl. The dress flared up in a pink arabesque, then floated lightly back into place. The hem barely reached down past the tops of her thighs; the cotton was so thin that her underpants were clearly visible through the gauzy fabric. She posed in the mirror, admiring the line of the frock, the shape of her long, tapering legs. Moistening her lips in anticipation, she whirled around once more, allowing the dress to sail up past her belly button this time.

Having completed the dress-twirling ritual, she retrieved a pair of socks from the drawer and sat down on the bed to pull them on, one tiny foot at a time. They were the kind with a lacy white frill decorating the band. He'd picked them up during a recent shopping expedition to Ridgewick Mall. Jessie had fallen in love with them at first glance, putting them on right there in the Stocking Shop, attracting more than a little attention in the process.

Jess stood up, glancing at the clock. It was 3.25; time to go. Her friends would be wondering where she was. Stepping into her pink Barbie runners, she grabbed a black hair-band on her way out and tapped off down the hall. She descended the stairs at a gallop, binding her hair back in a long, golden ponytail. Not a second to lose now, she'd have to sprint all the way to the park.

To be continued

Visit the Transfiction Wiki