Avery Unbound


I knew from an early age that I was different. I knew I wasn't what they said I was. I also learned early not to argue with them and that I should pretend to be what they wanted. I'm Avery, 22 years old, and assigned male at birth. I had a penis, so that meant I had to be male, but I never felt like a male. I had a sister Kerry, and I was always jealous of her.

Kerry got to be a girl. She got to wear dresses, skirts, and pretty things. She didn't have to play rough or put up with people playing rough with her. Kerry was a pretty normal girl and got to do normal girl things. She got to do ballet, while I was supposed to play football or baseball. In retrospect, the one good thing my parents did was make me study karate.

I hated karate - all that hitting, kicking and such. But as I got older, other boys started picking on me, calling me a fairy, pushing me around. At least they pushed me around until the day I got mad and used my karate training to kick the shit out of the boy who was bullying me. It got me suspended for three days, but my mom bought me ice cream afterwards, and the boys quit pushing me around.

The boys would still call me names, but no one ever laid a hand on me after I flattened Brian. He was easily twice my size, and bigger than all the rest of the boys I went to school with. They seemed to figure if I could kick Brian's ass, the rest of them had no chance at all. Funny, I didn't mind going back to karate class after that.

As I got to my 18th birthday, my sister Kerry and I were about the same size. When I was alone in the house, I began to sneak into the dirty laundry and pull out some of Kerry's clothes. I was afraid to mess with her clean clothes - afraid she or my mother would figure out what I'd done. Her panties felt wonderful when I put them on. At first it felt strange putting on her bra, but when I stuffed them, it looked like I really had boobs.

I started just messing with her bras and panties, then got bolder and took one of her dresses out of the dirty clothes. When I thought no one would be around, I'd dress up in bra, panties and a dress - only in my room of course, and look at myself in the mirror. I wasn't as pretty as Kerry, but I felt pretty - prettier than I ever did as a boy.

A couple times I nearly got caught. I had to quickly change clothes in my room then hide Kerry's clothes and sneak them back into the dirty laundry with my own clothes. I grew my hair out, but a lot of boys had longer hair, so it wasn't too unusual. In my teens, I was afraid to even think about putting on makeup. I knew I'd have to go down the hall to the bathroom to wash it off, and I just knew I'd get caught if I did.

So I pretended to be a normal boy, at least as well as I could, though I knew deep in my soul I was a girl. I went away to college, but that didn't help a lot. I lived in a dorm, and there was no way with a roommate to ever dress up and act like the real me. I might be able to kick the ass of anyone who touched me, but they could still humiliate me without ever touching me.

It was bad enough as it was. My roommate had a track scholarship - he was a jock, and most of his friends were jocks or jock wannabes. I avoided my room except to sleep at night, because otherwise I'd be teased and called names by all his friends. One day, one of his friends came in carrying a pair of pink panties, and said he'd found some of my clothes in the laundry room.

There were about four guys there, and they all seemed to find this absolutely hilarious. I said they weren't mine and carried them back down to the laundry room, where I left them. It was a coed dorm, and there was a young woman in there doing laundry and she looked at me funny when I walked in carrying the panties.

I told her what had happened, and she tried to look sympathetic, though I could tell she was suppressing a giggle.

"Maybe you should hang onto them. If you leave them here, they'll just get thrown out when this place is cleaned. If I hear that someone is missing them, I can tell them to check with you."

For a split second, I considered it, then realized what a horrible idea it was. She'd spread the word all right - the word that I had girl's panties, with everything that might imply.

"I don't think that's such a good idea. My roommate and his friends already give me a hard time. If I have panties around, it will only be worse."

"I think they'd look cute on you."

I blushed and was totally humiliated, but I dropped them on a table, turned and walked out. The fact is, I'd dearly loved to have had some panties of my own. I'd have loved to wear them, even under my jeans during the day. I'd have loved to sleep in panties in my bed at night. But I had a roommate and I had gym classes, so panties would be a recipe for disaster in my life.

I thought about those panties for months afterwards, but never did any more than just think. Eventually, things settled back down. I still knew I was really a girl, and wanted to look and dress like a girl, but that wasn't going to happen, not while living in a dorm, and I frankly couldn't afford my own place off campus - too damned expensive.

I finished college and got a job in the big city. I was anonymous and as long as I was willing to drive a ways or take public transportation, I could find my own place - crummy, maybe but with no roommate. It started slow, I didn't have a lot of extra money, but I hit a few sales and bought several pair of panties and bras. I hit some thrift stores and bought some dresses, skirts, blouses, and shoes.

The thrift stores were great. I could find nice clothes, some slightly worn, others with the tags still on them, all for a lot less than even sale prices at the regular stores. Look, I never had a lot of women's clothes, just enough to indulge myself a little. I bought some drug store makeup - nothing expensive and started playing until I knew a little bit about applying it.

I got nail polish and put it on my toenails and left it - after all who'd see me without shoes. I'd put it on my fingernails on weekends, then clean it off before work on Monday. I shaved my legs, underarms, and body hair. No one ever saw me without clothes, so there was no problem. It was all just my own little private fetish, if you will - until I heard about the pill.

The pill was a drug that changed a person's body from male to female, or from female to male, depending on which version you took. It was hard to come by, not commercially released, and only in limited human testing. I started doing some research and found a company that was conducting the testing.

I got blown off pretty quickly. There were ample volunteers for the male to female version, and a decent number for the other version as well. Most of the volunteers were folks who wanted a one way ticket. They wanted to change to the other gender and never change back. No great shock there - hell I felt exactly the same way, or mostly did.

I wanted to become a woman, but I really wanted to try it on for size. Look, I know women have a lot harder time in some ways than men. Women get raped, sexually harassed, paid less, and have fewer job opportunities. I might feel like I was really a woman, but I was enjoying male privilege - everyday. Could I stand to give that up? Besides, I liked both girls and boys, even though I didn't get involved with either.

I asked if the testers were looking for someone willing to take both versions, switch to female, then back to male. They didn't have as many of those and weren't sure of all the effects of taking both pills. One thing they knew from animal testing was that they had to wait at least a week between pills. The body really couldn't take both changes in a short period of time.

They also weren't sure about the long term effects of taking both. A few test animals they gave both to, ended up intersex - with both sets of genitalia. I wondered what exactly would happen if I took the first pill, and managed to avoid taking the second one. Then again, if I found I didn't like being a woman as much as I thought, I might really want that second one.

I contacted them and set up an interview for the drug trial. They brought me in and had me meet with a psychologist.

"So why is it that you want to take part in this study?"

"I've never been completely comfortable with either gender. I've lived as a male, but would like to know what it's like to live as a female to see if that is better."

"What if you find you don't like being a woman but the second pill doesn't change you back?"

"Does that happen?"

"In animal testing, close to 10% of the time."

"I guess I'd have to learn to live as a woman then."

"What if you like being a woman and don't want to change back?"

"Aren't I kind of agreeing to take both pills?"

"You applied for the male to female test, before applying for this test."

"I knew there was a pill for the other way, and wanted to try being a woman on for size. I figured I could apply for the other if I didn't like the change."

"How many men have you slept with?"


"What about women?"

"None of those either."

"Which sex do you want to take as lovers?"

"I'm not sure - maybe both?"

"You could do that, even as you are."

"I don't know if I want to be a guy sleeping with guys."

"But as a woman having male lovers is fine?"

"Yeah. It seems different."

"And you're good with being a woman having female lovers?"

"I am."

"Why haven't you had any female lovers?"

"Most women don't seem much interested in me."

"So to you, being male means no lovers at all, while being a woman means having lovers of either sex?"

"I don't know. I suppose. I never really thought that much about it."

I found myself sweating and squirming from the questioning. Maybe he was hitting a little too close to the truth.

"Kind of gives you the chance to be chased rather than having to do the chasing."

"I never thought about it that way."

"Have you ever worn typical women's clothes?"

"I have."

"What items exactly?"

"Panties, bras, dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes."

"Do you own any of those of your own?"

"A few items."

"Makeup, jewelry, accessories?"

"I have some."

"And have you worn any of that out in public, or only in private?"

"Only panties in public, under my pants."

"Are you wearing panties now?"

I know I turned bright red. I wasn't sure how he knew, but I was - a nice lacy pair of panties. I had polish on my toenails as well. I was too ashamed to even speak, but my blushing and silence had to have spoken volumes.

"Does that disqualify me?"

"Do you want it to?"

"No. Please."

"Any other feminine things I should know about?"

"I have polish on my toenails."

"Let me see."

I was shocked by his request, but didn't feel as though I could refuse. This person had the power to allow me in or keep me out of the study. I unlaced both of my shoes and took them off, then slid off my socks. He gestured and I put my feet on the table for him to inspect. He looked at my toenails, then lifted my pants leg slightly.

"You shave your legs."

"Yes, sir."

"Underarms and torso too?"

"I do."

"I think we both know you aren't going to want to take that second pill."

"I might. I'm not sure I'll really enjoy being a woman."

The doctor laughed and had a big grin. He gestured for me to put my shoes and socks back on, which I did. I was sweating bullets. Had I blown any chance I had of getting into the test? The doctor was making notes in a folder he had. I couldn't see what he was writing, but obviously it was all about me and my suitability for the test.

"Doctor, am I out of the test then?"

"I don't make the final decisions, I only make recommendations."

"What is your recommendation?"

"That you're suitable for the test, but that you may have reservations about taking the second one."

"How will they feel about that?"

"Puts you in the second tier of candidates."

"So they aren't as likely to want me."

"They know the second sometimes fails. Those who absolutely have to change back are a genuine risk. Those who refuse to change back, are a problem. Best candidates are those who are good with either outcome. Second tier are those who lean one way or the other, but could live with either. Those who exclusively want one or the other are third tier."

"How many first tier testers do you have?"

"At this point, not enough. So you have a chance."

With that, the doctor got up. I got up along with him. He extended his hand and we shook.

"If you're chosen for the test, I'll see you again after you take your pill."


It took two weeks before they told me I'd been chosen for the test. I was ecstatic, at long last I might be able to actually be the way I felt. At the same time, I was nervous. I told my employer that I was taking part in a drug test, and that the drug had mutagenic properties. After taking it I might look very different. My boss and Human Resources said that as long as I looked human, that might not be a problem.

The doctor told me that neither pill worked 100% of the time, even the first pill failed for about 10% of the people. They recommended that I dress as I feel comfortable, but if I dressed male, I might want to bring a change of clothes to female. I often wore panties under my clothes, even when I was in public, but never wore female outer clothes in public, nor did I wear a bra in public.

I got an overnight case and packed a skirt, blouse, bra, and flats neatly in it. I had no way of knowing what size boobs I'd have, but the bras I had would have to do regardless. I wore jeans, a tee shirt, and running shoes to the clinic. Honestly, I could wear those either as a man or woman, but figured assuming it worked, I'd rather start off dressing really female.

I took a Friday as a vacation day, figuring I'd have the weekend to adjust to the changes before returning to work. Word got around where I worked that I was taking some strange drug that might change me into a werewolf. Some people are so weird. Good thing was that if I simply looked like a normal woman, they'd have fewer problems, hopefully.

I had one work friend, Sarah, to whom I confided exactly what I was doing. She seemed only slightly surprised that I was taking something to change me into a woman.

"Seriously, given the advantages men have around here, I can understand why a woman would want to be a man, but don't get why a man would want to be a woman."

"Do you like being a woman?"

"Sure. I just don't like the misogyny and sexism, but I'm a woman, I feel like a woman, and I enjoy being a woman."

"I don't feel like a man and don't enjoy being a man."

"That's kind of sad, but I guess I understand."

Sarah hugged me and wished me well, then said she guessed she'd see a different Avery on Monday. I certainly hoped she'd see a different Avery on Monday. I hardly even slept Thursday night, between nervousness and excitement. Between lack of sleep and adrenaline, I was wired for sound when I went to the clinic on Friday.

They had me take off all my clothes. I was a little embarrassed, but they told me they needed to fully document any and all changes from the drug. I stripped and lay down on something like a dentist's chair, but with a paper covering as in many doctor's office exam tables. They wanted something sanitary, but also wanted me to be comfortable - at least as comfortable as I could be in front of a room of researchers and cameras filming the whole shebang.

Once I seemed to be comfortable, they gave me a pink pill and a glass of water. They told me to drink the whole glass of water, so I popped the pill in my mouth and did exactly that. For the first minute or so, nothing seemed to change, then I began feeling a tingling through my whole body. I felt it from the top of my head all the way down.

I felt my head start to change shape slightly. That puzzled me, but they told me later it was part of the difference between feminine faces and masculine ones. I felt something strange in my throat as my Adam's apple shrunk and my vocal cords changed. I could feel boobs starting to grow on my chest and was able to look and see it happening.

I felt something strange around my middle, where my waist was narrowing, while my hips grew wider as my penis and testicles withdrew into my body. I watched in amazement as they disappeared and a perfectly lovely little vagina developed from the hole where my previous genitals went. My skin changed tone as the feeling went down my body and some of my features, even my feet were softened by extra fat under the skin.

It took between five and ten minutes for the bulk of the changes to take place, and almost fifteen minutes for the whole process to run its course. They had mirrors set up in the room, so I could watch the changes and so that the researchers could see things from all sorts of angles. After about fifteen minutes, there was a murmur of approval through the room from the observers.

After the process, they wanted to examine me carefully. They poked me, prodded me, ran MRI type scans, and even used a speculum to give me a gynecological exam. I had people touching my pussy, my boobs, my ass, and every other part of my body. It was all very scientific, not at all sexual in nature, yet for some reason I felt turned on by it all.

They could not give the second pill in less than a week, and they didn't want to cut it at all close. Some folks were scheduled for their second pill in two weeks, some in three, some in four weeks, all the way out to some who were not scheduled for the second pill for six months. I found myself in that last group, though they told me that if it became an issue, it might be possible to swap out with someone scheduled for a shorter term.

I was not looking for a shorter term, at least not at that point. I'd have been happy if they never gave me that second pill. That was somewhere down the road though. Once they were done working me over, they let me get dressed. I put my pretty panties back on, along with putting on my bra. I had been using an a-cup bra, but now found I had b-cups boobs, so I was going to have to get some new bras. I also put on my skirt and blouse.

I'd brought some makeup, so I went in the women's restroom and put on makeup and brushed my hair to look more feminine. I'd brought some nail polish and did my fingernails to match my toenails. I put my boy clothes in the overnight bag I'd taken with me and felt like a whole new Avery. I know that Avery is a name used by both males and females, but I gave passing thought to using a different more exclusively female name.

That was for somewhere down the road though. For now, I was a woman and happy with my life. Next week, next month, who knows, but I'd worry about that then. I hadn't really brought a purse, just my overnight bag, but it was about the size of some large women's purses. I put the strap over my shoulder and headed out of the clinic to go home.

Sarah texted me wanting to know how things went, so I'd told her I'd meet her for a drink after she got off work. I grabbed a bit of lunch at a café nearby, then went shopping for some bras that fit. I'm hardly wealthy, so I just hit a discount store. My chest, minus boobs was about the same size, so I just needed to go to a b-cup bra. I found a couple of nice ones that weren't too expensive, and bought them. I also got a bag to use as a purse in place of what I was carrying.

I went back to my apartment, freshened up, put on a new bra, and put stuff in my new bag. I touched up my makeup and was quite pleased with myself when I left late in the afternoon to meet Sarah. I walked in the bar and saw Sarah, and began walking to her. She looked in my direction but didn't recognize me until I got to her table and sat down next to her.

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