Its Hard to Be a Man

This is the first of a new series for me. I've updated my webpage a bit, with some new links in it.

My website is at http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/2525. There you'll find out a little about me and where my stories are archived. If you are an author of TG stories and you would like to put a similar page up on that site, let me know.

This story is copyright 1997 by Stephanie. All rights reserved. You may repost or store this story on your website as long as the work is not altered or charged for.

As always, this is an adult story and it should not be read if you are under the age of eighteen.

It's Hard to be a Man Part One

by

Stephanie

Amanda was waiting for Patrick when he got to her apartment. He knew he was over two hours late, but he didn't really care.

She didn't look angry as she let him in, just resigned. "What did I ever see in you?"

"I'm sorry," he said without any real conviction.

"You don't make any effort at all, do you?" Amanda said hotly. "You just waltz in at any old hour and expect me to accept it."

"I said I'm sorry," Patrick replied irritably, "what more do you want?"

"You've been turning up later and later for weeks! I'm sick and tired of hearing your feeble excuses when you cancel."

Patrick smiled and rather belatedly tried to turn on the charm. "Look, you know how busy I am with my job. I don't get the money I do without a lot of work. I don't think you realise how hard it is to be a man these days. There are a million things a guy like me has to do to be successful."

Amanda was having none of it. "Well, you can go be successful with someone else. We're through."

"Amanda..."

"No! That's enough! Just get out!"

Patrick had enough sense to realise he had gone too far. If he tried to push it any further she'd only start throwing furniture. He shrugged, "fair enough." With that he turned and walked out of the apartment.

Amanda seethed. She only had herself to blame. In the early days of her relationship she had been swept off her feet by Patrick. Initially, he had seemed a good catch. He had a good job with excellent prospects. He was handsome and spent quite a lot of time in the gym each day. In retrospect that was the problem with Patrick. He only really cared about himself.

She could see that their break-up had been inevitable. Amanda walked over to the window. She looked down and saw Patrick walking along the street to his car. He didn't even seem to be that bothered that he'd just broken up with her.

Amanda looked up and saw a shooting star flare briefly in the night sky. "Hard to be a man?" she said bitterly. "I wish he did find it hard to be one!"

Down on the street Patrick saw something blink in the night sky. He looked around, but saw nothing. He shrugged and continued walking back to his car. He was actually glad that Amanda had broken up with him. Over the past week or so he had become more and more bored with her. She had started moaning and whining all the time. She was never satisfied.

To hell with her! It was Saturday night and there was no way he was going to spend it alone. He reached his car and sped off.

There was a nightclub that Patrick knew. He had used it for one night stands before and he knew he'd find a pretty girl there. He found a spot to park and headed towards the club. As usual it was packed. Patrick made his way through the crowd and bought a drink.

Already, he was on the lookout for any girls who were around with no obvious boyfriends nearby. He knew that with his good clothes and handsome appearance, he had a natural edge.

He had been honing his technique since his early teens and he prided himself as being an expert at it. To be honest, though, the type of woman he was going for that night wouldn't be that hard to catch.

Patrick soon found himself talking to a young woman who was probably barely over twenty, ten years younger than himself. She was exactly what he was looking for in a one night stand. Generous figure and no inhibitions.

Two hours of half-shouted conversation later Patrick and the girl were leaving for his apartment. He managed to drive back despite feeling a little drunk. He had moderated his drinking for the night so he'd be able to drive, while his girl had knocked back hers in quick succession. However, he was feeling the effects of the drink far more than he normally did.

They helped each other into Patrick's apartment building and over to the elevator. As they rode up to Patrick's floor they kissed and fondled each other. Patrick was feeling worse now. He was barely able to walk straight and his clothes felt uncomfortable and ill-fitting.

The girl, whose name he had already forgotten, had to guide his hand to get the key in the door.

She had to find his bedroom herself and carry him to it. This wasn't quite how she had imagined her evening would turn out. With some effort she managed to get him onto the bed.

She noticed with disgust that he seemed to be totally unconscious. So much for her night of passion. She meandered around the apartment. It was quite spacious and expensively furnished. Pity its owner couldn't hold his drink.

She went back to the bedroom. Patrick was on his back, snoring quietly. She decided to see if she could bring him back to life with direct stimulation.

She unbuckled his pants and yanked them down. The boxer shorts quickly followed. She stopped dead and stared in disbelief at the sight before her.

Well, that just wraps up a perfect evening, she thought disgustedly. What a waste of time.

She scrawled a note for Patrick by the telephone and took enough money for a taxi and a little extra for her wasted journey. She dialled for a taxi and left.

Back in the bedroom, Patrick was fast asleep.

The morning was mostly gone when he finally woke up. He squinted at the sunlight flooding through the windows. It took him nearly a minute to work out where he was.

Searching his memory he remembered bringing a girl home with him the night before. He lifted his head and looked down at himself. He was still wearing his clothes. Patrick's head started throbbing so he dropped it back onto the bed.

Don't tell me I passed out, he thought. I must be getting old! He racked his memory, trying to remember him and the girl having sex, but no such memory surfaced. God, how embarrassing!

He concentrated on keeping his body stable as he got off the bed. Slowly and carefully, he staggered to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Patrick took some headache tablets, and then stared blearily at himself in the mirror.

He rested there and waited for the pounding in his head to go down a bit before returning to bed. He wondered how he had got so drunk so easily. It wasn't like him.

Patrick opened his eyes and looked again at his reflection. He frowned at the mirror. His reflection looked wrong somehow. He blinked and looked again. His bleary-eyed face stared back at him. It must just have been his imagination, he decided.

He leaned against the washbasin until the world stopped spinning. After a few minutes, his headache receded a little. Then he headed to the kitchen to make himself a really strong cup of coffee.

As he waited for the water to boil he started to feel a little better. Maybe he had eaten something bad the day before. He certainly hadn't drunk enough to feel this bad.

The kettle switched off and he went to lift it. He stopped and frowned at his hand. It didn't seem right somehow. It seemed to be smaller and more refined. Patrick felt a stab of fear. His hand didn't look like that! His was broader and rougher looking.

He looked down at his hand again. It was back to normal. What the hell was going on? He finished making his coffee and moved into the main room.

Patrick collapsed into a chair and sipped at his drink. He thought back to the differences he had noticed in his face and hand. They had looked more feminine, he realized. Although they looked and felt perfectly normal now.

That was ludicrous. It must just be an affect of the alcohol. He leaned back and relaxed. Patrick dozed for a few minutes while the pills took effect.

When he woke up again he felt much better. He also felt strangely different. He looked down at himself. His mind struggled with what it saw.

His expensive clothes no longer fitted him. His trousers were too tight, but his belt was loose. Patrick's eyes were riveted in horror at the unmistakable swelling under his shirt.

I'm dreaming, he thought, I have to be dreaming! His hands flew to his chest and cupped the mounds. Then his hands scrabbled at his shirt and ripped it open, revealing the creamy mounds that lay beneath. There was no doubt, he had breasts! Large, female breasts!

"No!" he shouted in terror. That wasn't his voice! Even that had been somehow changed. It was now higher, feminine.

Patrick shoved his hand between his legs, but he already knew what he would find. The familiar bulge had gone, to be replaced by a more discreet mound. He had run his fingers over many like it in his time, but he had never expected to find one there.

His shaking hands took some time to get his pants open. As he frantically tried to get them open, he was acutely aware of the jiggling sensation coming from his chest. Finally, he got his pants undone and his hand inside his boxers.

One touch was all he needed to confirm his worst fears. He jerked his hand away and stared up at the ceiling. He was almost crying from fear. How could this happen? All signs of manhood had totally vanished and been replaced by soft femininity.

In one motion he jumped to his feet, pushed his pants and boxers off and ran to the bedroom mirror. He stood shivering looking at the terrified girl in the mirror. Her face was similar to his normal male one, but the nose was smaller. Her chin was more delicate and the skin had obviously never grown a beard. Her eyebrows were more refined and her eyes seemed larger. Her hair was much longer, falling in a blond wave halfway down her back.

Patrick's gaze went lower. The girl was wearing a man's shirt, but it was open revealing her abundant breasts. Her nipples were large, dark and inviting. He looked lower. His eyes sliding over her thin waist which flared out into her wide hips. Down to the triangle of pubic hair between her thighs. Clearly visible through that mat were the lips of her vagina.

He gulped when he saw that. His manhood, his pride and joy, was gone! Patrick tore his eyes away and looked even farther down. She had sexy smooth legs, very long and shapely. Even her feet seemed smaller and more delicate.

He closed his eyes and almost collapsed. This was impossible! There was no technology that could do that to him so quickly! He tried to remember the way he had been. The strong muscular body that had so recently been his.

A strange crawling sensation passed over his body and he jerked his eyes open to see what was happening now. He looked in the mirror and saw his old self. Patrick cried out in relief and it took some time for him to regain control.

After he calmed down he started to worry. Was he losing his mind? Had that girl drugged him the night before? Patrick looked round his apartment, but he could find nothing missing. So he hadn't been robbed.

He did find a terse note stuck on the telephone. He read it and then frowned in confusion. It simply said 'I don't go with girls. Even ones that look as male as you do.' What on Earth was she on about? Unless...

But that was impossible. He had just hallucinated. He hadn't really changed shape. So why did she think he was a girl? He shook his head and pulled his shirt off. What he needed was a bracing shower to wake himself up. He was about to leave the bedroom when he felt the crawling sensation on his skin. He felt a fresh stab of fear as he looked back in the mirror.

His features were changing again! The girl he had seen in the mirror before was returning. His body quickly became smooth and feminine again. He shook his head in disbelief and felt his long hair brushing on his bare back.

This couldn't be a drug induced hallucination. It was too real and the note made perfect sense now. Patrick's heart was hammering as he stared at the nude girl in the mirror. His eyes were drawn to the blond triangle between his legs.

Curiosity overcame him and he reached down with one slim hand to explore. Just before his fingers reached his strange new anatomy, the doorbell sounded.

Patrick jumped in the air at the sound and it took a real effort to stop himself from panicking. What was he going to do? He couldn't let anyone see him like this, even if it was just some strange delusion. He had managed to change himself back into his normal form once before. If he could just remember how, everything would be okay.

Wait a minute, he thought to himself. This could prove to be a good test to see if this is just a hallucination. He quickly pulled on his bathrobe. He did it up tight so whoever it was at the door wouldn't see anything Patrick didn't want them to. He reached up and pulled his hair free of the bathrobe. The doorbell rang again.

Patrick took a deep calming breath, causing his breasts to rub against the soft fabric of the bathrobe and then he headed towards the door. The door's spyhole seemed to be a little higher up than he was used to. Through it he could see a bored delivery man with a package. Patrick suddenly remembered about the documents that were being sent to him. He was supposed to go through them before the meeting the next day.

He hesitated before opening the door. Did he really want to do this? No, was the answer, but he had to find out if other people saw him as a woman or as a man. Whether he was going mad, or he had really turned into a girl. He opened the door. "Yes," he said in a high and rather frightened voice.

"I've a package for a Mr Patrick Zimmerman."

"I'm afraid I'm the only one here at the moment," that much was true. "Can I help?" The man's eyes were wandering over every inch of Patrick's body and it was pretty obvious what the man was thinking.

"This needs to be signed by Mr Zimmerman. It's confidential you see, Miss."

"I don't know when he'll be back. Why don't I just sign it. No-one will know."

The delivery man shrugged and handed him the form. Patrick scrawled an illegible signature and handed it back to the man.

"Thanks, Miss. Have a good day." The man said.

Patrick nodded and retreated back into the apartment. He clasped the package to his breasts and breathed heavily. He dropped the package on the table and headed back to the bedroom. There was no doubt about it, the delivery man had seen a woman, not a man. So this change was really happening. Either that or he had gone totally insane. That wasn't worth considering. If he had gone that far over the edge, nothing mattered anymore anyway.

He looked in the mirror and concentrated on his normal male form. He watched in relief as his hair retreated to it's normal length and his normal gender was restored. He felt his cock and balls in relief and sat down. There was no doubt now that his was really happening, but what had caused it? More importantly, what could he do to stop it happening again?

He was sweating from his recent encounter and decided that he really needed that shower. Patrick went to the bathroom and set it running full blast and just stood under the jets. He looked down and opened his eyes. Through the torrent of water he could see his breasts. He had changed into a girl again! Was this going to keep happening? Every time he relaxed was his body going to turn female?

He was about to concentrate on an image of his male self, but something held him back. He didn't have to change back straight away. He caressed his body and ran his hands down over his soft, curving stomach. Patrick hesitated before sending his hand down to his vagina. It felt rather disturbing to touch himself between his legs and not feel his penis. Instead of his manhood that would get hard and penetrate, he now had a vagina that would be penetrated. He now had equipment designed to receive men's cocks into his body and milk their sperm.

Patrick spread his legs a little wider to get better access. His fingers brushed against his clitoris and he gasped. That was as sensitive as the head of his penis was. He ran a finger over the lips of his vagina before he dared to explore further. Slowly his finger edged into the damp, warm passage. It felt like any normal pussy he had touched in his time, but he had never felt it from the woman's point of view before. He could feel the finger pressing into his body. Patrick shivered with excitement.

His nipples started to tingle and he raised his other hand to them. They were already erect and the merest touch sent sparks of desire through him. They were so sensitive, far more than his male nipples were. He groaned, and the sound of a female in heat turned him on even more.

Patrick removed the shower head from it's holder on the wall and pressed it between his legs. He sprayed the hot jets of water against his aroused pussy causing it to tingle even more. That felt very good. He leaned back against the wall of the shower and started massaging himself in earnest.

He rubbed the length of the shower head against the lips of his vagina. In his imagination the shower head was a cock which was about to spear him. In seconds his imaginary lover would push Patrick onto his back and fuck him. He could feel himself rapidly approaching his first female orgasm. Patrick dropped the shower head and pushed all the fingers of one hand inside himself.

The feeling of penetration in this strange new place sent him over the edge. His orgasm smashed on him like a tidal wave. His legs gave way and he slid to the floor as the fantastic feeling rocketed through him. Every single part of his body resonated with his powerful orgasm. He sat on the floor, one hand slowly stroking his nipple, enjoying the erotic sensations that seemed to take forever to die away.

Had he cried out during his orgasm? He couldn't be sure, but he seemed to remember uttering a piercing shriek as his orgasm had hit him. So, he thought to himself, I'm a screamer, not a moaner. As far as Patrick was concerned, all women fell into one of those two categories when they had sex.

That reminded him of the fantasy he'd had when he masturbated. That the shower head was a man's penis. Patrick's good mood evaporated in an instant. He had never fantasized about men before. Was he turning queer? He closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of his male form. He felt his soft breast sink and disappear under his hand, to be replaced by the hard pectoral he was used to.

He got out of the shower and looked at his pale face in the mirror. This transformation was affecting his mind somehow, he was sure of it. Now he was back to his normal self, but he knew that would last only a few minutes. Then his body would once again turn into a girl's. The orgasm had cleared his mind and he realized how bad his situation really was. He had to find a way to stop this horrible transformation before he climbed into bed with another man.

Before he could do all that, he had to work out who had done this to him and how. Was it Amanda's doing? He couldn't believe she was capable of inflicting a curse like that on him, but then someone had to be responsible. It couldn't be a coincidence that this started happening immediately after they broke up.

He dried himself off and headed to the bedroom. He still had an almighty hangover, but that paled into insignificance against the shock he had received that morning. He hurriedly dressed in jeans and a shirt. If Amanda was somehow behind this he'd make her pay. His shirt was getting tight and he realized his large breasts were returning. Was he going to spend the rest of his life stopping himself from changing into a woman?

Patrick checked himself in the mirror to make sure that he was fully male and headed down to his car. He got increasingly angry as he drove to Amanda's place. How dare she do whatever she had done to him! Patrick swore he'd make her pay.

He had to go slower than he was used to going. He'd almost crashed his car when he had started to change again. By the time he reached Amanda's apartment he was by turns furious and scared. Patrick marched up to the door to her apartment and hammered on it. "I know you're in there, Amanda! Open up!"

Finally, he heard movement on the other side and the door opened a crack. "What the hell do you want now?" she asked bitterly.

Patrick pushed the door wide open. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" she replied. She was starting to feel frightened. Patrick was clearly very incensed about something.

"This!" Patrick had begun to feel the by now familiar crawling sensation as his body was replaced by another. This time he didn't stop it and allowed himself to become totally female.

Amanda watched in total disbelief as Patrick's shirt started to expand. She could see the forms growing under the shirt, but she couldn't believe her own eyes. Within seconds, the shirt grew very tight and two large nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. The shirt could take the strain no longer and two buttons flew off revealing his extremely feminine cleavage. In mere seconds her ex-lover had turned into a woman directly in front of her! She backed away and screamed in horror.

Patrick stopped dead in his tracks as Amanda collapsed. This was the last reaction he had been expecting. He had thought she would either laugh at him or feign ignorance. He walked over to her, but stopped when he felt his breasts bouncing in his shirt. He concentrated on regaining his form.

He had just managed that when the door of another apartment down the hall burst open and a woman came running out. "What's going on? Amanda!" She rushed past Patrick and went to Amanda.

Amanda tried to fight clear of the woman, until she realized it wasn't Patrick. Both turned to look at Patrick, one in fear and one in anger.

"What did you do to her, you bastard?!" the woman shouted at him.

Patrick was acutely aware of how bad this looked, but he couldn't see any easy way out. "I didn't do anything, she just screamed."

"H-he's a g-girl!" Amanda said in a very shaky voice.

"What?" the other woman said. "Did he hit you?"

"N-no, he just t-turned into a girl!" Amanda repeated.

The other woman looked up, a little less sure of herself. "You'd better leave," she told Patrick coldly.

"Yeah, perhaps I should. Sorry, Amanda, I hope you're alright soon."

It took Amanda quite some time to calm down after Patrick left. She could remember quite clearly what she thought had happened, but there was no way that was possible. Patrick had been replaced by a woman right in front of her eyes.

That simply wasn't possible.

Carol, who had come to her rescue when she had screamed, suggested it might have been shock due to seeing her ex-boyfriend. Amanda was rather dubious of that explanation. Patrick had been a bastard, sure, but he had never laid a finger on her. Their relationship had fallen apart simply because he couldn't care less about her. Amanda couldn't think of a better explanation, though. She must have freaked out at seeing Patrick, for some reason, and imagined his strange transformation.

A dozen miles away, Patrick sat in his car and tried to work things out. His hangover had gotten worse from having to concentrate on stopping his body transforming all the time. So he had parked the car and let himself turn female for a while.

He resolutely stared ahead, so he wouldn't catch sight of his massively changed body. Though, he was all too aware of the weight of his breasts, of his long hair spilling past his neck, and the lack of that most important piece of his anatomy.

It was clear Amanda didn't have a clue what was going on. She wasn't that good an actress to fool him. So who was responsible? It could be the work of someone else he had slept with. However, half of those women wouldn't talk with him and he had no idea how to find the other half. As much as he hated the idea, he was going to have to wait until his tormentor made contact.

A strand of golden hair fell in front of his face. He pushed it out of the way in irritation. As he brought his arm down, it brushed against one of his mammaries. He cursed and concentrated on his male form. His true body formed out of his female one.

He was going to beat this curse inflicted on him. If it was the last thing he did!

Patrick wearily walked back into his apartment. It was barely a couple of hours past noon, but he could easily say this was already the worst day of his life. He felt his body start to change and he had to concentrate for a moment to stop it. Perhaps the worst thing about his situation was that he had no idea what to do now. The only person he could think was responsible clearly had no knowledge of it.

He wasn't that hungry, but he fixed a small lunch for himself anyway. As he ate it, he looked out the window at the street below. Somewhere out there was the person responsible for his strange affliction, but he could do nothing until she contacted him.

He had a terrible headache from his hangover, and from having to concentrate every couple of minutes to stop himself changing. He groaned as he saw the package that had arrived that morning. Patrick had an important meeting at work next day and he had planned to spend Sunday getting up to speed.

Well, it wasn't going to be fun, but he needed something to take his mind off his hopeless position. He couldn't afford to let his job go to hell, even if the rest of his life was wrecked. Eventually he'd find out who was responsible for his transformations and he'd force them to stop it. This wouldn't be forever. It couldn't be forever. He spent his entire adult life climbing the corporate ladder and he couldn't let his career fail now.

Patrick sat down and opened the parcel. Inside were several dozen documents that he needed to be up to date on by the meeting the next day. He found it nearly impossible to concentrate on them. Partly because of the worry gnawing at the back of his mind, and partly due to having to fight down each attempted transformation.

Finally, he threw down the document and leaned back in the chair. Why me? he asked himself as he stared at the ceiling. What have I done to deserve this? He felt his body start to shift yet again and this time he let it. His shirt had already lost a couple of buttons from the last time he had transformed. Even so, it grew tight around his chest as his soft breasts inflated.

His jeans felt way too tight, and he reached down to release them. The waistband was loose. It was his wide hips that were causing the problem. With a little difficulty, he managed to pull the jeans off. He sat back down wearing just his boxers and shirt. Patrick knew he was stuck with this hateful feminine body if he wanted to be able to concentrate on the documents. He picked up the folder he had been reading and tried to concentrate. It was difficult at first; the strange feeling of his body distracted him. Slowly, however, he was drawn into the document. He had always had a flair for marketing. It was this ability that had got him as far as it had. He headed a marketing team at the Ross-Shimura Corporation and took home a good deal of money.

Over the next hour he made his way through all the documents. Already, he was getting ideas on how to organize the campaign. He became so wrapped up in the files, that he only remembered he was in a female body when he reached up to scratch his head. His hand brushed the long hair on his head and he instantly remembered his condition.

He got up and went back to the bedroom. He spent many long minutes observing his face in the mirror, observing every small detail. He did, in fact, make a very beautiful woman. Someone who he would definitely try to sleep with if he ever met. That could never happen, of course.

Also, he would have to take care that he never lost control again. He shuddered when he remembered the fantasy he had had in the shower. He still couldn't believe he had fantasized about having sex with a man. Despite all that, his gloom was lifting a little. He had got over the initial shock and the knowledge that he could turn himself male at any time helped.

Patrick wondered what it would be like to go out in his female form. He'd have to wear more than the boxer shorts he had on now. Amanda's clothes! He had completely forgotten about them in the horror of the morning.

During the early days of their relationship, Amanda would often stay over the weekend at his apartment. Patrick disliked her doing that, because it meant he couldn't go out looking for one night stands if he wanted to. He disliked the idea of ever settling down with just one woman. He knew he'd be climbing the walls inside of a week if that ever happened. So he had slowly persuaded Amanda not to stay there at weekends.

While she had been staying at his place she would often leave a small stash of her clothes. That way she could go straight to Patrick's apartment from her workplace without bothering to pack a suitcase.

The idea of actually wearing her clothes unsettled him a little, but he reassured himself that it was only a little fun. It's not like he was some sort of transvestite, after all, since he was female at that moment.

He pulled the clothes out of the drawer and sorted them out on the bed. In all, there were three sets of underwear, a light, cotton dress, a tight leather skirt and a top that was barely more than a bra. Amanda loved night-clubs and he always felt she dressed provocatively for them. It was one of the thing that attracted Patrick to her in the first place.

He pushed off his boxers and selected the first bit of her clothes to try on. He picked up one of the panties at random. It was the usual lace and silk type that women wore. Should he really be doing this? He didn't want to encourage his more feminine side after the incident in the shower. Surely it didn't matter that much? Anyway, he could always change back before he got carried away again. This time he'd be ready for it.

Carefully, he stepped into the panties and pulled them up his shapely, smooth legs. The cool fabric fitted snugly around his strange new crotch. He looked at the panties in the mirror. They fitted well and looked good on him. He ran his hand over his silk covered bottom. They felt much finer than his boxer shorts.

Patrick turned to the bra, but quickly rejected it. He knew what outfit he wanted to try. He picked up the short, black leather skirt. It was almost indecently short. He stepped into it and managed to work it up around his hips. Patrick had trouble doing it up, until he realized that a woman's waistline was higher than a man's. He pulled the skirt up some more and managed to do it up. It fitted him like a second skin and accentuated the curve of his hips. It restricted his movement a little. He knew he'd have to careful how he sat with it on, so that he didn't expose himself to the world.

He rejected the bra and went straight for the white top. It also proved difficult to get on. Doing the clasp up at the back wasn't something he was used to. Also the top was designed for someone with a smaller bust than his. He found he had a strange pride in being better endowed than his ex-girlfriend.

Finally, he managed it and turned to see what he looked like. He definitely needed a larger top. This one was a bit too small. Amanda was a B cup, that meant he had to be up in the C or D size. He thought that the way his breasts were squeezed into the top made him look like a hooker.

He started striking provocative poses and blowing kisses to the mirror. "I'm one sexy broad," he declared out loud. This was the first time he had really listened to his female voice. It sounded as sexy as the rest of him looked.

It was only then he realized he was getting turned on by his own image. He walked back into the main room and flicked on the TV. He tried to sit as he normally did, with his legs wide apart. He quickly found his skirt wouldn't let him do that. He finally got comfortable by curling his legs under him.

He flipped through the channels until he came to some trashy TV movie. He didn't care about the plot, but he found himself watching a scene with a man and a woman set on a beach. Both were wearing skimpy swimming costumes that left little to the imagination. Patrick had to admit she was very good looking, and the man wasn't bad either. In fact, it looked like he was hung like a horse.

As he watched the TV program, Patrick started to daydream. He imagined himself on that beach, looking up at the masculine hunk of a man in front of him. The couple kissed and Patrick felt envious as the woman ran her hands over the man's body.

He wondered what it would be like to wrap himself around that muscular body and be impaled on that large manhood. His hands drifted to his breasts almost of their own volition and started to rub his nipples through his top. A warm liquid sensation spread through his crotch.

As he rubbed his hard, aching nipples, Patrick's fantasy grew. He imagined that he was the man's girlfriend. He could almost feel the man's strong hands caressing him, and then holding him down as they made rough and passionate love.

Patrick was almost at the point of orgasm just from stroking his breasts. He was imagining what it would feel like to be penetrated when he finally realized what he was thinking.

"No!" he shouted in a voice thick with fear and lust. He leapt off the couch and concentrated on his male self with all his willpower. He was so close to his climax at this point that it was set off mearly by his cock rubbing against his skirt as it grew.

His orgasm was so powerful that he almost keeled over as he pumped his seed into his panties. He collapsed onto the couch until he had got his breath back. Patrick was painfully aware of how easily he had lost control again. If he was going to survive this, he'd have to learn to control himself when female.

He got to his feet and went to the bathroom. The female clothes looked absurd on his male frame. He pulled them off as quickly as possible. His panties were sticky with his cum and his female juices. He threw them away in disgust. As he cleaned himself off he felt really disgusted. Why couldn't he control himself as a female? Was it because he wasn't used to the female body and emotions? Or was it some aspect of the curse that had transformed him?

Patrick was certain that whichever woman from his past was responsible for this wouldn't wait long before making herself known to him. Once he knew who was responsible, he could start to fight back. All he had to do was keep control of himself and wait.

For the rest of the day, Patrick made sure he stayed male. He wouldn't give in, he couldn't give in. The alternative, succumbing to life as a woman, was too hideous to contemplate. His hangover slowly cleared up, but his headache got steadily worse.

He went to bed far earlier than he normally did. For the first time in a long while he spent a weekend night alone. Patrick was exhausted from the trauma of the day and he soon fell fast asleep.

He woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed when his alarm clock sounded the next morning. Normally, he felt tense every Monday morning. It was only when he reached over to switch the alarm clock off that he felt his breasts shift on his chest. In an instant he was wide awake.

All at once, the memory of the horrific events of the previous day flooded back. He couldn't even go to sleep without his body rebelling and changing!

He lay on his back in the bed. He could call in sick, but he knew that wasn't an option. If he didn't get out of the apartment and do something soon, he'd go insane. Besides, he had an important meeting that day. There was no way he was going to let it defeat him. He wouldn't give his tormentor that satisfaction.

Patrick got up. He was all too aware of his wide hips swivelling and his breasts bouncing as he walked. He spent several minutes in his female form. As long as he was careful about what he thought about, he could stop himself getting lost in a feminine fantasy, like he had twice before.

He shifted back to his male self and quickly got himself ready for work. The almost-familiar pressure of the change filled him every few minutes, but he was able to fight it down with ease.

His problems started when he had to concentrate on doing something other than just staying male. As he was driving into the city down the crowded streets he realized he wasn't going to be able to spend enough time stopping himself from changing and control the car. Unable to give his full attention to his body, Patrick felt his legs starting to change. The pedals of the car seemed to grow slightly further away from him. He felt the strange pulling sensation in his crotch as he turned female.

He couldn't let himself change here. What if someone saw him? By now he could feel his shirt starting to grow tight. Patrick concentrated on keeping his head and chest male.

Yes! It was working! By concentrating on a smaller part of his body he could keep that male and drive at the same time. His hands were more slender than his normal male ones and each finger was topped with a long fingernail. That didn't matter, no-one could see that. As long as he could keep his head and chest male, no-one would suspect anything.

Even so, Patrick was exhausted by the time he arrived at work. His earlier optimism was dissipating. Was he going to have to apply this effort every moment of his life, just to stay male?

His shoe fell off his foot as he got out of his car. He hastily turned himself totally male and put his shoe back on. Most of his staff had already made it into the office ahead of him that morning. Patrick headed straight into his personal office with a strong coffee. He was going to need to keep his wits about him today.

He looked out through the glass partition, that separated his office from the main working area, at his team getting organized. They would throw together their first impressions for the new campaign and then they would present them to Patrick's boss in the afternoon. Patrick hated working that way, but that was the way his boss liked to do things. To get the honest first opinions, he would say.

Hank was trying it on with Susan again. Patrick had to smile at his perseverance. Hank was Patrick's best friend in the office and the two shared the same insatiable taste for women. Hank was a tall, dark haired man. He had a hard muscular physique from long hours in the gym. Susan was a smaller, but fiery, black woman. Susan was giving Hank the usual ice-cold brush off. Patrick had told him on a dozen occasions that he was never going to get anywhere with her. Hank had just replied that Patrick was jealous and had his own designs on her.

The two other people who worked directly under Patrick were concentrating on the product they were going to have to design a campaign for. Albert was in his fifties and while he was good at his job, Patrick found him utterly dull. Ian was in his early twenties and showed excellent potential. Patrick thought he didn't put himself forward enough, though, and he tended to be too quiet.

Patrick took a back seat during the brainstorming session in the morning. Usually, he led from the front, but he was too preoccupied with keeping his problem under tight control. The product they were working on was a palmtop computer. The brief was to give it a wider appeal than just the business user.

By lunch they had produced a few initial ideas. Susan went off with Albert and Ian for lunch, pointedly ignoring a lewd offer made by Hank.

"You're never going to get her that way, you know." Patrick told him.

"I'm wearing her down," Hank replied confidently. "Soon she'll be begging me for it."

"Yeah, right."

"You were quiet today. Is anything up?"

"No, no. Just a late night." Patrick said.

"Oh, I see? Amanda, is it?"

Patrick paused to fight down another transforming surge. "No, I dumped her the other day. She was getting annoying."

"Do you want to get a beer?" Hank asked.

"Not really, I still haven't recovered from yesterday." That much was true. "I'll go for a walk and clear my head before we meet Jennings later."

Hank shrugged, "Okay."

Patrick watched him go. In many ways, Hank was his closest friend, but Patrick could never share his problem with him. Hank just wouldn't be able to cope with it. Patrick wasn't too sure he could cope with it either. He left the office building and put on his sunglasses. His headache was getting worse again. He promised himself that he'd go home as soon as the meeting was over.

He hadn't gone out for some fresh air. There wasn't much of that in the middle of the city, anyway. There was, however, one small little shop he had passed a thousand times, but had never dreamed of entering. It was a long shot, but it could provide him with all the answers he needed.

It was a shop dealing with New Age and occult books and assorted bits and pieces. Patrick looked at the peeling sign, which read 'The Third Eye'. He had half a mind to just give up on the shop there and then. How could this place provide anything useful?

Despite his misgivings, he entered the shop. It might seem to be gibberish for the gullible, but the fact of the matter was that something had been done to him. It was either a technology far in advance of anything he had ever heard of, or magic. Patrick looked at the books on the shelf, feeling really out of place in his suit and tie.

"Can I help you?" said a woman behind him.

Patrick turned to see a ginger haired woman in her forties dressed in a hippie style outfit. "Ummm...no, I'm just looking."

"I can sense the duality in you," she told him. "I'm psychic, you see." she explained.

"Uh huh," said Patrick sceptically.

"You are looking for something specific, aren't you?"

"I'm looking for something on physical transformations. Do you have anything like that?"

"Let's see," she bustled past him and plucked three books, seemingly at random, from the shelves. "This should be a good start," she told him. "If you need anything specific, you come back and let me know, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

He bought the books and got out of the shop. He didn't want to be seen carrying books on magic by his colleagues, especially Hank, so he dropped them in his car before heading back to the office.

He took the few seconds on the elevator to try and relax. His headache was getting almost unbearable from the concentration necessary to stay male. His team was waiting for him and together they went to a meeting room to present their ideas.

Patrick wasn't helped by the fact that his boss, Mr Jennings, was several minutes late. His headache was worsening and he knew he couldn't hold on much longer. As he waited, he relaxed control over the lower half of his body. Almost immediately, his shoes seemed to grow in size as his feet became daintier. His trousers grew tight as his hips widened. When Jennings finally arrived, he stood to shake the man's hand. He sat down again and was relived to see that no-one seemed to have noticed his more curvier form.

He started outlining his team's ideas. Normally, he liked to lead from the front and do most of the talking. Patrick knew that this time he'd have to hold back and let the rest of his team take the strain.

Patrick had to concentrate on what he was saying and he was aware that he was losing control over his body as he did so. "Susan's idea for the SG-4300 is to aim it at the teenage market. There is already a large market for cheaper, simpler gadgets and we feel the upper end of this market could be exploited." Without warning his voice cracked, and he said 'exploited' in a far higher tone than he wanted to.

He cleared his throat and apologized, blaming a cough he had. He finished summarizing the plans and let each member of his team explain their plans in detail. They were rather surprized by his move, as Patrick usually monopolized meetings and they were luckily to get a word in. They soon recovered and began explaining their ideas.

Patrick was in real pain now, and could barely keep his distress hidden. Somehow, he managed to keep a calm look on his face until each team member had put forward their ideas.

Jennings nodded approvingly, "I think Susan's and Ian's ideas have the most potential and I'd like you to develop those for the time being. I..." Jennings stopped and frowned at Patrick.

What's he looking at? thought Patrick. Then he felt his growing breasts push against his shirt and he realized what was happening. He quickly used all his willpower to reduce his breasts back down to their normal male size.

Jennings blinked and rubbed his eyes. Then he seemed to dismiss what he had seen and carry on with his speech. Patrick glanced around at his team, but they had all been looking at Jennings, except for Ian, and hadn't seen anything. Ian didn't look alarmed, so Patrick knew that no-one but his boss had seen anything odd.

The meeting was over. With his last bit of mental energy he was able to fully restore his male shape. Even so, as he walked with his boss to the elevator, he could feel his control slipping. His feet were feeling looser in his shoes and his body was taking on a curvier shape.

"Are you feeling alright?" Jennings asked.

"Just a little cough, I think," Patrick explained, "I'll be fine."

Jennings could see that, whatever it was, it was more than just a cold. He was privately pleased by Patrick's commitment to his job, despite being obviously ill.

As soon as Jennings was gone, Patrick almost ran to the washroom and locked himself in a cubicle. He remembered to undo some of the buttons on his shirt as he transformed. He sat on the toilet in his female form and gripped his throbbing head. For several long minutes he sat there as his headache started to very slowly recede.

"Patrick? Are you okay?" It was Hank!

Patrick checked his watch. He had been in the toilet for over fifteen minutes! He tried to shift back to his male self, so he could speak, but his headache was still so strong that he couldn't concentrate enough.

He pitched his voice low and said "Yeah, I'll be fine." He tried to make his voice sound as masculine as possible, but he still sounded like a girl trying a funny voice.

"Okay," Hank said, sounding uncertain.

Patrick ignored his headache and concentrated on getting himself back in his male form. He was rewarded as his male form reappeared. He did up his shirt and staggered out of the washroom.

"Man!" Hank remarked, "you look bad!"

"I feel it." Patrick replied. "I'm going home for the day. Make sure you get started on the designs."

"Don't worry about that, you get home and lay off the booze for a while."

Patrick managed to get back to his car before he lost control over his form again. He had no hope of maintaining any part of his male body now. He just hoped that he wouldn't be pulled over by the cops while driving as a woman.

His headache was so bad, that he could barely concentrate enough to drive. He drove slowly, and carefully, home. The severe headache helped to distract him from his curvy, feminine body. Patrick made it home without incident and soon he was back in the safety of his apartment. He walked wearily into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He looked at the blonde bombshell in the mirror wearing an ill-fitting man's suit.

He couldn't even go one whole day without losing control. His headache would take hours to go down. Patrick knew he'd have to spend the rest of the day as a woman if wanted to have any hope of surviving the next day. Even then, his chances were slim.

Patrick despaired. What was he going to do now? He couldn't survive like this!

Even with headache tablets, it was some time until Patrick's head stopped throbbing painfully. He knew he was stuck in his female form until the next morning at least while he waited for his headache to recede.

His suit was uncomfortable on his feminine frame, so he stripped and put on a bathrobe. Patrick remembered the way he had lost control the last two times he had been female for any long period. He would just have to be very careful to monitor his thoughts and not let his new body run away with him again.

On the way out of the bathroom, Patrick noticed the three books he had bought from the occult store near his office. He picked them up and settled on the couch to read them.

He found it hard to believe anything the books said. As far as their authors were concerned, magic was real and mythical creatures like werewolves existed. He would never have even bothered trying to make sense of them if he hadn't been transformed by some unknown power.

Even so, Patrick quickly became annoyed at the books. They simply repeated legends and myths from around the world. The only interesting information he found was on the legend of the were-woman. This story appeared to have come from England well over a thousand years before. Apart from the fact that a man became a woman, it wasn't really that similar to his problem. A man afflicted with that curse only had to worry about becoming a woman during a full moon, not all the time like he did. He was going to have to investigate other avenues. The 'magic' idea was plainly a stupid one.

Patrick spent the rest of the day watching the TV. He stuck to the news channels and avoided anything that might inflame his female side. Even so, he caught himself eyeing up several of the male presenters of various shows. This time he was aware of what was happening and he could mentally stop it. Even if that meant turning male for a few minutes. When his headache had subsided a little, he turned his crotch male. It meant his headache would probably last a little longer, but at least he'd be male where it counted.

By the early evening he was getting a bit stir crazy. Normally, he'd be out at some nightclub or other trying to find a partner for the evening. He couldn't risk that lifestyle again until he could keep control of his body.

He was full of nervous energy and he continually paced the whole length of his apartment. All the time trying to ignore the strange sensations he was getting from his body as it rubbed against the bathrobe. Something was niggling his memory about that occult shop. What was it the woman had said? 'I sense the duality in you.' Yes, that was what she had said. It was only now that he realized the importance of that statement.

She knew! Somehow, she was aware of his transformation problem!

He checked his watch, which was hanging loose on his wrist. It was seven-thirty. That shop was probably long shut by now, but maybe she'd still be there. This wasn't something that could wait until the next day. He knew he'd have to drive there as a woman, but he decided against wearing any of Amanda's clothes. He found a pair of jeans that weren't stretched too tight across his hips and a white T-shirt.

He wished he had a bra that did fit him. He didn't want to wear such a feminine garment, but he really needed it. His breasts attracted too much attention loose under his T-shirt and his nipples were clearly visible through the thin material, but it couldn't be helped.

Patrick drove carefully back to the shop. All the way he wanted to put his foot down and get there as fast as possible, but he managed to control himself. There had to be something to this magic thing after all. How else could the woman in the shop have known what was happening to him? The question was: would she help him?

It didn't look hopeful as he parked in the alley. The main shop was in darkness, but he could see a light coming from a rear room. He walked up to the shop door and knocked loudly on it. Patrick waited and was about to hammer again on the door when he saw someone moving in the shop. The figure turned on the lights and moved over to the door. It was the ginger-haired woman! Patrick sighed in relief.

She looked through the door and peered at Patrick. "What do you want? We're shut!"

"I need to talk to you! It's really important."

The woman looked undecided for a moment. Then she opened the door and let Patrick in. Patrick realized that she probably wouldn't have opened the door to a man. She immediately locked and bolted the door behind him. "So, what's up?" she asked.

"Don't you recognize me? I was here about noon."

The woman frowned. "I don't think so. I've only had three people come in all day and none of them looked anything like you, girl."

"Well, I looked quite different then. You said that you sensed the duality in me."

If anything, the woman looked more puzzled. Patrick would have thought she would have remembered him. She had noticed his problem after all. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen you before in my life." she said.

Patrick thought for a moment. Should he risk it? Why not? He had nothing to lose. "Perhaps you remember me like this." With that, he concentrated and his body began to change. His hair withdrew into his head and his breasts shrunk and disappeared.

The woman's eyes widened to the point where Patrick thought they'd pop out of her head. She staggered backwards and collapsed into a chair. She continued to stare at him in utter shock.

Not again, thought Patrick. It was obvious he'd made another miscalculation. She had no idea about his condition either. "You didn't know about this, did you?" he asked her.

The woman shook her head slowly.

"When you said you sensed the duality in me, I assumed you really were psychic. That you knew all about me."

"I am psychic," she retorted as she regained some of her composure, "it's just that I don't use it that often."

"So that was just sales talk?" Patrick said, aghast.

"Yes. I'm sorry, dear." She paused. "What...kind of creature are you? If you don't mind me asking."

"Human! I just started changing sex yesterday and I don't know what's causing it."

"...and you came here looking for help?"

"Yes, I don't know what else to do." Patrick spilled out the whole story to her, but leaving out the parts where he lost control of his female body. He hated feeling this helpless, but he had no choice but to ask this woman for help.

"Patrick," she declared when he had finished, "I'm going to do everything I can to help you. My name is Abigail, by the way. Can you change yourself again?"

"I'm going to have to. If I want to stay male all tomorrow, I'll have to be a woman tonight."

Ian checked his watch as he left the Ross-Shimura building. It was already gone eight. He'd been working hard with Susan all day and tomorrow would be just as hectic. That was the problem with being the junior in the office. You tended to end up with all the boring, time-consuming jobs.

He got on his motorbike and started to head home. Ian had barely got on the road when he saw something that made him pull over again. Wasn't that his boss's car parked down an alley? Patrick had disappeared that afternoon claiming to be ill. So why was his car parked there? Ian turned and drove into the alley. After parking the bike, he went over to the car. Only one shop in the alley was lit.

Ian was surprised to see Patrick in an Occult shop talking to a woman. Ian's boss didn't seem to be the type that would go in for that sort of thing. Ian moved forward for a closer look.

"Ok," Patrick said, "here it comes."

Abigail watched him intently as his form changed in front of her. His face shifted and in seconds was utterly feminine. His T-shirt ballooned as his breasts rapidly grew. She watched, fascinated, as the hair on his arms withdrew into his skin and his frame became curvier.

Patrick pushed his long blonde hair out of his eyes and looked at Abigail. She was totally astounded. Hesitantly, she reached out and ran her hand along Patrick's arm. The hair had almost completely gone. Apart from the downy hairs most woman had, the arm was totally smooth.

Patrick shivered at her touch. He concentrated on not loosing control. He was disturbed when he realized it was easier to keep control because Abigail was female.

"I still can't believe it," Abigail said. She studied every part of Patrick's female body. It was impossible to tell he was anything other than female.

"I don't blame you," Patrick's feminine tones replied. "I thought I was going mad when it first happened to me. So, what's our first step?"

"First step? Oh, yes, ummmm... We have to find out who did this to you, and how and why. I'll look into the first two and you should start thinking about the third. I keep my own books upstairs. You can give me a hand to look."

Patrick followed her up a narrow staircase. Abigail's apartment lay directly above the shop and was crowded with all sorts of strange artwork and furniture. One wall was taken up with a large bookcase. Abigail took two books from it and handed one to Patrick.

"What am I looking for?" he asked as he opened the book.

"Anything that seems to relate to your...condition." she replied.

"Don't you know what we're looking for?"

"No, magic doesn't obey many laws. It's permutations are nearly endless, but if we can find out how it was done that will narrow down the possibilities of who did it."

Abigail was ecstatic. She found it hard to concentrate on the books and she was constantly glancing up at the blonde woman in the other chair. She had believed in magic and the paranormal all her life, but here at last was definite proof that it really existed.

The bartender looked at the shell-shocked young man. "What'll it be?"

"Uh, a whisky," the man replied. "No, make that a double... triple." Ian stopped and calmed himself. "Just give me the bottle."

Patrick spent most of the evening going through dozens of books. He found very little that he thought was relevant, but Abigail said she'd check them out anyway.

Abigail was convinced that Amanda was at least partly responsible for Patrick's strange transformation. Patrick wasn't convinced. He still remembered the look of utter surprise and horror on her face when he had transformed in front of her.

Even so, Abigail made him tell her everything he knew about Amanda. Patrick didn't think it would help, but he answered all of her questions as best he could.

It was getting close to midnight when Patrick arrived back home. He had two reasons to celebrate that night. Firstly, he had found someone who could help him, and, secondly, he had spent the whole afternoon and evening almost completely as a woman without giving in to his female desires.

He undressed and slipped into his bed. He ran his hand over his strangely smooth, curving belly and up to where his two breasts blossomed. He doubted he would ever get used to this body. With any luck, he wouldn't have to. He'd made a great deal of progress today. It couldn't be long before he conquered this strange curse.

With one problem well on the way to be being solved, his mind turned to the campaign he and his team were working on. He'd lost a lot of ground with his 'illness' which he'd have to make up the next day. It shouldn't be too hard, as long as he could stay male for the whole day that was.

Patrick's sleep was light and a little troubled. Towards dawn, he was dreaming. He was running along an endless beach. Ahead of him, Patrick could make out a distant figure running towards him.

The distance between them disappeared rapidly, and Patrick could see that it was Amanda in a very small bikini that showed off her assets. She opened her arms as she ran towards him and Patrick did the same. Seconds before they made contact her body changed. Instantly, she was much taller, broader and muscular. Her strong arms crushed Patrick to her manly chest.

Patrick looked up, feeling his long hair cascading down his back, and saw Hank's face leaning down for a kiss.

Patrick bolted upright with a startled gasp. It took several seconds to separate dream from reality and to work out where he was. He looked down at his bare, heaving breasts and cursed. This damn body wouldn't even leave him alone when he was asleep. He looked over at the clock. It was only quarter past six, but he knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep.

He took a shower to fully wake himself and then got ready for work. He waited until just before he left to turn himself male and that was only till he reached his car. As he drove to work, he once again kept only his head and chest male.

His team were a little surprised to see him back at work. Hank had thought Patrick should have taken a few days off as he had looked really ill, but he knew his boss couldn't stay away from work that long, no matter how bad he felt.

"How are you feeling today?" Hank asked.

"Better, thanks." Patrick noticed Ian shambling over to the coffee machine. "What's up with him?"

"Drunk himself stupid last night by the looks of it."

Patrick cursed, "Damn idiot waits until we at our busiest." He easily checked another transforming surge and then went over to Ian. "What the hell do you think you're playing at? We need everyone going at one hundred percent right now!"

Ian looked at his boss blearily. A strange apprehension ran through him as he looked at Patrick. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it."

Patrick sighed, "just think in future, okay? A lot is riding on us."

Ian tried to settle his thoughts as Patrick went back to his office. Why had he got drunker than ever before in his life? And why was he suddenly afraid of his boss? He wracked his befuddled mind, but no answers came.

The morning progressed slowly. Patrick found it difficult to work at his normal speed. He constantly had to fight down the transforming surges. By noon, his headache was back with a vengeance and he knew he could only go another hour or so before his control slipped totally.

Normally, he and Hank would disappear to a local bar for the lunch break and size up the local talent. For the second day in a row, he told Hank he was off for some fresh air. Hank had noticed the strained look on Patrick's face. He wasn't surprised that Patrick had gone back to work before he was well enough.

Patrick made his way over to Abigail's shop. Abigail looked up when he entered. "There you are, Patrick. I've been busy and I've something to show you."

"Good. Is anyone around?"

"No," she replied. "Are you going to change again?" she asked eagerly.

"Yep." Patrick undid the top buttons on his shirt. He'd end up ruining more shirts than the Incredible Hulk if he wasn't careful.

Abigail walked over to him and was staring intently at him. She was obviously fascinated by the whole procedure. Patrick did his best to ignore her as the change washed over him. He kept only his crotch male. His thinking being that if he was still a man, even one that looked like a woman, he wouldn't have to worry about having another man-orientated fantasy. When the change was completed he looked up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He sighed and rubbed his head, accidentally scratching his skin with his long fingernails as he did so.

Abigail was watching in astonishment with a hand over her mouth. She still found it impossible to believe that this totally genuine looking woman was really a man. "You look done in," she remarked to him.

"That's after just one morning of staying male. I can't stay like this. I'm forever fighting just to keep my own shape. What sort of life would I have as a woman?"

"No reason why you couldn't have a very good one..." Abigail started. She noticed the angry look on his face, "...but you're a man and you want to stay one. I understand."

"You said you had something to show me?"

"Oh yes, follow me."

She headed upstairs to her cramped apartment and Patrick followed. Most of the floor of the main room was covered with a large sheet of paper. On it was a complicated series of mystical symbols and scrawled writing. Dozens of books were scattered around the room.

Patrick looked at the sheet of paper in disbelief. "What on Earth is this?"

"Your ex-girlfriend's astrological chart. This is my specialist area, no-one does readings like this."

"Yeah, I'll bet." Patrick said under his breath. "So, what is so important about it?"

"I couldn't believe what I was seeing when I first drew it up. I thought I'd made a mistake, but I've rechecked it three times now and there can be no doubt."

"Yes?" Patrick asked impatiently. He wished she would get to the point.

"The position of the stars and planets at the precise moment of her birth are very telling. You are certain that you got the time of her birth exactly right?"

"Yeah, she told me the story once. She took her first breath just as the town clock struck midnight."

Abigail nodded. "Another important date is three days ago, Saturday. Now this is probably when the curse, or whatever it was, was laid. That day also had a rare astrological combination. Also both her birthday and Saturday were holy days of an ancient Irish tribe. I'd guess that an exceedingly rare combination of circumstances unconsciously unleashed the supernatural powers she possessed in a past life when she lived in that tribe."

"You're joking, aren't you?" Patrick asked in total disbelief. He saw the look on her face. "You're serious? You actually believe that nonsense."

"I didn't expect you to understand, but there are two things I think I should point out that prove my argument."

"What are those then?"

"This," said Abigail and poked the soft flesh of his right breast. "And this," she went to poke his other breast, but Patrick brushed her hand away.

"Okay, you made your point." He tried to pull his shirt together so his cleavage wouldn't be visible, but the garment just wasn't built to contain such large breasts. He collapsed into a chair and sighed. "What do we do now?"

"Now we need to find out more about the tribe. What their beliefs were and the powers they had. Which won't be easy. The last of the tribe died over fifteen hundred years ago. I also think I should have a closer look at your girlfriend. I might be able to divine her hidden powers."

"How are you going to do that?" Patrick exclaimed hotly. "Walk up to her and say, 'excuse me, did you use magic powers from a previous life to turn your ex-boyfriend into a bimbo?'"

"You think on that and try to come up with an idea. Do you have a photograph of her?" Abigail asked.

"No, I don't."

"Not a problem, you'll just have to lead me to her."

"But she's already seen me like this!" Patrick pointed out.

"You leave that to me," said Abigail mysteriously.

Patrick spent the rest of his lunch hour watching Abigail working on her charts. His headache receded to a dull ache. It'd be difficult, but he decided he could last out the rest of the afternoon at work. Even so, he'd have to spend the evening almost totally female just so he could survive the next day at work. That was the life he was condemned to now. He'd have to spend almost all of his time away from work as a woman. What sort of life was that? He looked at Abigail. All his hopes rested with this eccentric woman, but could she really do anything?

All too soon, his lunch hour was up and he had to get back to the office. He turned himself fully male and headed back. For the first time he was dreading work. Normally he saw his job as a challenge. How could he enhance his profile and work his way up to the top jobs? For the moment though, the battle would just be within his own rebellious body. He had to be very careful, one slip could totally ruin him. He had almost lost it in the meeting the previous day. Then he had been very lucky. The next time he lost it would probably mean the end of his career.

Back in the office, everything seemed disconcertingly normal. Hank was still trying it on with Susan and was still getting nowhere. Patrick sat at his desk and started on the pile of paperwork that had built up. He detested paperwork, but at least he could relax control on his lower half while he was doing it. The next time the transforming surge ran through him, Patrick just kept everything above his waist male.

He shifted in his seat to get comfortable as his hips widened. He thought about buying baggier pants so they'd fit better when he was female. This isn't going to last that long, he told himself sternly. Abigail will find a way to reverse it soon. Look how much she's done in just one day.

He watched Hank and Susan. She had an absolutely stunning body and in any other circumstance he would have made a pass at her long ago. However, he had seen many a career blighted by a failed office romance. As much as he admired her body and personality, he knew he couldn't risk trying anything with her. If he had tried to get into bed with her he would have tried a far subtler approach than the one Hank was trying.

Patrick shook his head. What was Hank thinking? Despite how handsome he was, had he tried that approach on Patrick he would have got absolutely nowhere. What Hank needed to do to was convince Susan that there was a brain behind those charming features of his.

Subtlety wasn't Hank's greatest point, but he was capable of far more tact than that. He probably isn't that interested in her, Patrick thought. Maybe he's just doing it for amusement. So if he wasn't really after Susan, that meant Patrick still had a chance.

Patrick finally realized that he had been admiring Hank's body, and not Susan's, for the last few minutes. His face burnt red with severe embarrassment and he turned back to his paperwork. He had always known that his friend's body was attractive to women, but this was the first time he had ever seen it himself, with his own eyes. For several minutes there, Patrick had hoped that Hank would turn his charms on him!

He shuddered. His female urges were growing. Patrick concentrated on his groin and he instantly felt his penis and balls pushing out into his boxer shorts. It was a little extra he would have to keep male throughout the afternoon, but it was necessary. I am not attracted to Hank and I'm not gay, he kept repeating in his mind.

He couldn't stop himself from glancing over to Hank every now and then. Hank didn't look quite so attractive to Patrick now, but a strange yearning still remained inside him.

It took him a lot longer than normal to do the paperwork. He had to keep dividing his attention between the work and stopping his body betraying him. Also, his mind-numbing headache was building. Since he only had to keep half of himself male throughout most of the afternoon, his headache didn't grow to crippling levels. Even so, he was glad to get out of the office and head home as soon as he could.

His control was just starting to slip as he got home. He pulled off his clothes and went to the full-length mirror in the bathroom. Already his chest had lost the small amount of hair it normally had. In its place were two small adolescent breasts. As he relaxed his control, his breasts blossomed out to their full and generous size.

The one area he kept male was his crotch. Keeping that one important area of maleness mattered to him, even if it meant his headache would take longer to die down.

Patrick ran a bath and he was soon relaxing in it. The hot water helped to relieve the stresses of the day. Today had been a fairly easy one, but even so it had stressed him almost to the limit. If things got busy the next day he'd never be able to keep control.

He soaped and washed his mostly female body. He still couldn't get over how smooth and sensitive his skin was. The feeling of the water lapping against the globes of his breasts caused his nipples to become aroused. With one soapy hand, he stroked the erect points on his chest. His penis responded, coming to attention almost immediately.

He moaned softly. Each of his nipples were almost as sensitive as the head of his cock. With his other hand, he grabbed his penis and began stroking it. Without noticing, he spread his legs as wide as the bath would allow. His climax was building fast. He pinched and pulled at his nipples, sending erotic fire through his body. In his imagination the hand on his chest wasn't his, but Hank's. He also dreamed that his cock also belonged to Hank.

He was lost in his fantasy, and it quickly became too much for him and with a shriek he orgasmed. His cock pumped cum all over his breasts and stomach.

His head was buzzing as he slowly came back to himself. He looked down at the cum speckling his bosom. Damn, it had happened again! He was disgusted with himself. Even with his own genitals he was starting to lose control. Patrick felt afraid of his growing attraction to Hank. This was only the third full day of this strange curse. How long could he last before succumbing to his desires?

It's Hard to be a Man Part Four

by

Stephanie

As Patrick dried himself off, even the feel of the soft towel against his body made his skin tingle with arousal. His cock was already showing signs of life. This was getting bad. He couldn't stay in his male body for any great length of time and his female body kept getting turned on by the wrong things. Men, for example.

Patrick put on a bath robe and headed back into the main room. He sat and tried to relax. His headache was slowly going down, but it wouldn't totally disappear until after a good night's sleep.

He stretched out on the couch. Within a few minutes he was nearly asleep. Then his doorbell rang and he sprang upright, falling off the couch and knocking over a small table as he did so.

"Patrick? What are you doing in there?" came a voice from outside the apartment door.

Patrick froze. That was Hank! He wished he could pretend to be out, but knocking over the table had ruined that idea. He couldn't give Hank any reason to think something was wrong. He daren't risk Hank finding out about his curse. Patrick stood up and concentrated on his male form. He gave himself the once over to check he hadn't missed anything and then went over to the door.

Patrick was angry at Hank for turning up now. Normally, he'd be happy to see his friend, but not today. His reserves were already low from maintaining his male shape for most of the day. Now he would have to expend what little he had left while Hank was around.

"I'm not disturbing anything, am I?" Hank asked after Patrick opened the door.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Never mind. We'll soon fix that." Hank wandered into the kitchen to look for some beers. "We'll go out and find some good ass and we'll have fun tonight!"

"I'd like to, but I still don't really feel like it tonight."

Hank came back with two cans. "Look, Patrick. You haven't been out for days. You're not even going for your usual lunchtime drink. You are getting old."

"No, I am not!" Patrick replied testily. "It's just I've been busy and right now I don't feel that well."

"Old," Hank repeated. "You remember that time you had the flu? You felt like Death and that still didn't stop you going down the bars and clubs looking for a nice bit of ass."

"I remember, I puked my guts out when the drink reacted with my flu medicine," Patrick replied.

"Yeah," Hank said, reminiscing, "what an evening!"

Patrick was weakening. He really did want to go out. He hated being stuck in his apartment all the time. "Alright, but just a couple of hours. Give me a few minutes to get dressed."

He went to his bedroom. He changed quickly into a casual outfit. He decided he would be able to control his body for a couple of hours, now that he had rested for a little in his female form. Anyway, he needed to blow off steam and relax. Otherwise, he'd go mad by the end of the week.

Hank was already working his way through the second can of beer when Patrick had finished getting ready. Hank was quite happy getting totally smashed during a night's drinking. Patrick preferred to avoid total drunkenness. Partially because he was driving, but mostly because he thought he didn't have much of a chance getting off with a girl if he collapsed in a heap under the table.

It didn't take them long to get to their favorite bar. It was packed as usual. Hank and Patrick bought two drinks and then started looking around for likely targets. Patrick's headache wasn't helped by the booming rock music being pumped around the place, but he felt more relaxed than he had all week.

"Over there," Hank shouted in his ear. Patrick looked to where he was pointing. Sure enough, Hank had spotted two young, well-stacked women. One of the reasons Patrick liked the bar so much was the type of women who would go there. Available, open-minded women looking for a good time with no attachments.

Hank introduced himself and Patrick as if they were English lords and then bought them a drink. The girls seemed amenable. They knew they could get their drinks free for the rest of the evening at least. Then if Patrick and Hank didn't seem that interesting they could brush them off and go somewhere else.

Patrick tried to put his troubles behind and enjoy his evening. The dark haired woman he had targeted seemed more than interested in him. He was gratified to see that despite the bizarre feminine thoughts he had been having, he still had the knack for picking up girls.

He was careful to moderate his drinking through the evening. His headache was steadily growing again and it wasn't helped by the loud music, but as long as he didn't get drunk he felt he could control it. By the end of the evening he'd be sober enough to perform for his girl, and in control enough to have something to perform with. Hank was getting on well with his girl. Unlike Susan, she didn't care what his mind was like. She was just after his body.

It was only as the evening progressed that Patrick realized he wasn't going to make it. His already low reserves of control were draining far faster than he had expected. He found he wasn't able to hold his liquor as well as he usually could either.

Patrick could already feel his penis starting to shrink and retract into his body. He quickly excused himself and went to the washroom. He locked himself in a stall and sat down. He relaxed the hold on his body and his feminine self emerged in an instant.

He held his head in his hands and breathed deeply, feeling his breasts rising and falling, as he tried to control his headache. As the minutes passed his headache did retreat a little, but he started to feel dizzier from the alcohol. Just like on the night the curse first set in, his resistance to drink had fallen. Perhaps his female body wasn't as used to the amount of alcohol his male one was.

Whatever the case, it was obvious he'd have to get home as quickly as possible. Any chance of having some fun with his girl was gone. He composed himself and turned himself male again. He knew that the length of time he could hold his male shape was measured in only a few dozen minutes. He had to move quickly.

He made his way carefully back to Hank and the two girls. "Hank, I have to go, I'm feeling like shit."

Hank was about to complain, but he could clearly see Patrick was really suffering. "Damn it!" He said out of annoyance rather than anger. "Can I take them back to your apartment then?"

Patrick groaned, mostly because of Hank's suggestion rather than his painful headache. Hank's apartment was much further away and was always in a total mess. It wasn't usually a problem for Hank to stay overnight. There was a spare room and Patrick would normally have a girl of his own to concentrate on. He didn't have the energy to argue, though, so he agreed. He staggered out to his car while Hank talked to the girls.

After a few minutes Hank and the girls caught up with him. "I'd better drive," Hank said. "You look like you're about to drop dead."

"Thanks, I feel like I am." replied Patrick morosely. "But if there's one dent in my car..."

"...don't bother turning up for work tomorrow." Hank finished, laughing. "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

Patrick looked behind him at the two girls following them. "Both of them?" he asked Hank.

"Waste not, want not." Hank replied with a drunken grin.

They reached the car and Patrick let the two girls climb in the back before slumping in the passenger seat. This was just brilliant. Not only had he ended up looking like a total idiot in front of the girl he was trying to impress, but now he was going to have to spend the night alone listening to Hank fucking two women.

When they reached Patrick's apartment, Hank wasted no time in escorting the two girls to the spare room. He turned and winked at Patrick before closing the door.

Patrick glared at the door and then went into his own bedroom. He stripped and then relaxed his control on his body. God, what an embarrassing evening, he thought as his body rearranged itself into a softer, more rounded form. He slipped into bed and just sat there, able to relax at last now that the strain of maintaining his male body was gone.

One of the girls gave an excited squeal. Patrick glared in the

general direction of the spare room. He was a fool to have let Hank bring the two girls back to his apartment while he still had the transforming curse on him. Anyway, why was Hank over there wasting his

time with those two sluts when he could be over here...

Patrick shivered with fear. He didn't want to finish that line of thought. He turned over and tried to get some sleep, but he quickly realized that was going to be impossible for quite some time.

Hank and the two girls were very vocal in their pleasure and it was doing more than just keeping Patrick awake. It was starting to turn him on. Patrick could hear one of the girls crying 'Yes!' over and over again, mixed in with a low grunting noise coming from Hank.

Patrick dropped a hand between his legs and he wasn't surprised to find he was already wet. He flung back the bed covers and looked down at his nude body. Whatever he felt about his body he had to admit it was damn sexy. If only he could share it with someone. Someone like Hank, with his perfect, muscular body and chiselled features. Patrick's nipples started to tingle and he lightly brushed the tips with his fingers.

No! This wasn't right. He was a man, not a horny woman. Why couldn't he stop these thoughts creeping into his head?

What was wrong with those thoughts, really? Wasn't he now a woman? A beautiful woman with curves in all the right places? A woman with soft, creamy breasts and a hot place between her legs aching to be filled?

Patrick leapt out of bed and retreated to the far corner of the room. He couldn't give in to the desires his body had, no matter how good they felt. He knew he had to relieve the tension or he was going to end up crossing the hall and joining Hank and the girls.

He crept over to the door and cracked it open. Now he could hear what was going on far more clearly. Patrick could hear the bed creaking. One of the girls was exclaiming something in a very excited voice. Patrick couldn't quite work out what it was. His heart was beating rapidly from the fear of being caught and his excitement as he crossed the hall to stand right outside the door to the spare room.

Patrick listened carefully and he could now understand what the girl was saying. "Fuck me...fill me up! Ummm...Aaah! That's it! More! Harder!" Her fairly inarticulate cries of passion were mixed in with Hank's bass grunts.

Patrick touched himself between his legs. He bent over as the waves of his own desire washed over him. His clitoris was almost painfully sensitive and he knew it wouldn't take much to reach an orgasm. He spread his legs to give him easier access and started to ease his fingers into his vagina. He leaned back against the wall and listened to the girl and Hank having sex in the spare room.

He could tell that every time she gave a little yelp of passion Hank had just thrust into her to the hilt. Patrick timed himself to the girl's cries and thrust his own hand deep inside himself in rhythm with her. He imagined he was the girl on the bed and Hank was rearing up above him. He could almost feel Hank's tight muscular hips thrusting against his. Patrick wished that he could have Hank's cock inside him. He needed it to make him feel complete. How could something like that be wrong? Especially when it felt so good.

Hank's thrusting increased in speed and the girl moaned loudly as her orgasm hit. Patrick's followed immediately after. Despite his best efforts, a quiet, high pitched cry escaped his lips as he slumped to the floor.

In the spare room, Hank was building up to his second climax of the night. It was hard, if very enjoyable, work, keeping two women happy at once.

The second girl had been watching her friend and Hank making love, slowly rubbing herself as she enjoyed the show. She looked over at the door. Was that a noise outside she had heard?

She slipped off the bed and moved over to the door. As quietly as possible, so as not to disturb Hank and her friend, she opened the door and peered into the hallway.

There was no-one there. Just an empty hallway and Patrick's closed door. It was a pity Patrick had gone down ill. He had been quite cute.

"What are you doing?" Hank asked her.

"Oh, nothing," she said, shrugging.

"Come over here and we'll give you something to do then."

The girl smiled and shut the door. Then she rejoined Hank and her friend on the bed.

Patrick was back in his room leaning against the door. His heart was pounding furiously. It sounded as loud as a drum. He had turned himself back into a man and he had only just avoided being seen by the girl. He reached down to his now male crotch, it was still slick with his feminine juices.

He climbed back into bed and hugged himself. It took him several long minutes to calm down and relax. He'd totally lost it again. Even now that he was fully male he still felt drawn towards Hank. When he woke up the next morning he was going to have to get Hank and his friends out of his apartment as quickly as possible. Until he stopped transforming he was going to have to keep his distance from Hank or he was going to do something he'd really regret.

It took Patrick nearly an hour to get to sleep, but finally his exhaustion claimed him. Unlike the previous night, he slept long and deep.

He was finally wakened by a knocking on his bedroom door. "Patrick? Are you awake?"

Patrick lifted his head and slowly started to come to his senses.

"Come on," said the voice again, "wake up. We're late for work." It was Hank.

Patrick turned his head and looked blearily at the bedside clock. It was 9.45 am. Oh hell.

He sat up just as the door opened and Hank walked in. "Wake up! You didn't get that drunk last..." Hank stopped and stared at Patrick's chest.

"What's up?" Patrick asked in a high-pitched voice. Shit! He had forgotten he was in his female body! He looked down and realized his breasts were bare. He quickly grabbed the bedsheets and covered himself.

"Sorry," Hank said, embarrassed, "thought you were someone else."

Patrick was too petrified to say anything and he just stared at Hank.

"Ummm, I'll go now." Hank said before retreating from the room.

Hank stood confused outside Patrick's bedroom. Several questions came to mind. Why had Patrick gone to work leaving him behind? Why hadn't Patrick woken him up? The most important question of all, however, was: Where had that absolute fox in Patrick's room come from?

Patrick was going to have to answer a lot of questions when Hank caught up with him. He quickly finished getting ready and then rushed down to his car. The two girls left with him and he had to give them a lift home before he could get to work.

In his room Patrick didn't start to relax until he heard Hank leave. He collapsed back onto the bed with a groan. Now Hank had seen him as a woman. There was no reason to think Hank would know who the girl he had seen really was. Even so, he had seen the look in Hank's eyes when Patrick had accidentally exposed himself. It was a look of pure lust.

If Patrick had offered his body to Hank at that moment he had little doubt that his friend would have climbed into bed with him. Hank would have pulled back the sheets and held Patrick in his strong arms...

With a jolt, Patrick realized where his thoughts were going yet again. He turned himself fully male and got up. He was already very late so he didn't bother rushing. He made himself breakfast despite not really feeling hungry.

He showered and then dressed. Just three days to the weekend and Patrick was getting convinced he couldn't survive. At the rate he was going, by the weekend he'd be begging Hank to fuck him.

On his way to work, he stopped to pick up some heavy duty painkillers. With any luck they could take the edge off of his headache. It was getting close to 11.00 am when he finally arrived in the office. He apologized to everyone for being late.

Fortunately, his team were more than able enough to carry on without him. Even so, he was busy for the rest of the morning trying to catch up on lost time. Patrick had to work through his lunch hour in his effort to catch up, which meant he wouldn't get the rest break he needed at Abigail's shop.

By early afternoon, his headache was getting oppressive again. He took a few of the pills he had bought at the drugstore. He wished he had thought of this sooner, these would give him the edge to last out the day with ease. He would have to be careful not to get hooked on them, but hopefully Abigail would have solved his problem before that happened.

Hank had been desperate to talk to Patrick alone all day. It wasn't until well into the afternoon that he finally got his chance. "So who was that then?"

"Who're you talking about?" Patrick replied trying to sound innocent.

"Who do I mean?" Hank asked incredulously. "That blonde in your bed with the big tits!"

"Oh... her." Patrick was trying to get his story straight in his head. How should he explain this one away?

"I'm glad you remember her, I'd be really worried about you if you didn't."

"Don't worry," Patrick said, "she's been on my mind for the last few days."

"So, who is she?" Hank patiently asked.

Patrick was quiet for a few seconds before he decided on which story to tell. "She's my cousin, Becky. She's staying with me for a few days until she can get a place of her own."

Hank smiled, "So you're not..."

"No, I'm not." replied Patrick, testily. "Neither are you."

"Now, surely that's for her to decide." Hank said slyly.

"There are plenty other beautiful girls out there waiting for you. So it won't be a hardship to stay away from just this one, will it?"

Hank nodded. "No problem. Message received and understood."

Patrick hoped that it had got through Hank's skull. The last thing he wanted was for Hank to try to get into bed with him.

The painkillers seemed to be working, his headache had gotten bad, but it wasn't strong enough for him to lose control over his body. He worked hard to get through the backlog of work that was building up, but he knew he wasn't going to manage it all in one day.

Towards the end of the working day Patrick started to feel tired. His headache wasn't too bad, but because he was so drowsy he couldn't concentrate well enough.

He pinched himself to stay alert. Why was he starting to fall asleep? He wondered if it was due to the combined stress of the past few days. He pulled the painkillers out of his jacket pocket and read the packet.

'Warning,' it read, 'this product can cause drowsiness and should not be taken if the user is operating heavy machinery.'

Great, just great! If it wasn't one thing it was another. No matter, it was almost time to leave. Patrick relaxed his control over his body from the waist down and just concentrated on those parts visible to the rest of his team.

He decided to wait until his team had left before leaving himself. When female his hips seemed to him to stick out like shelves. They were certainly far wider than normal and they gave a feminine swivel to his walk. Patrick refused to take the risk of walking out while half-female when the others could see him.

While he waited, Patrick returned to the backlog of work. Everyone else except Ian soon left to go home. Patrick started getting seriously worried. The side-effects of the painkillers were really starting to kick in now and he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. Several times he felt his breasts starting to expand, though he managed to keep them down.

He couldn't get up for a walk, while Ian was there. Eventually he told Ian to go home and forget about his work until the next day.

Ian wanted to get the work done so it wouldn't be waiting for him the next day, but something about his boss still made him uneasy. Finally he left and Patrick was alone.

Patrick got up and walked around to keep himself awake. His control quickly slipped and the rest of his body turned female. He cursed as he felt two buttons pop off his shirt. Another one ruined.

He was too tired to drive all the way home and he wanted to check in with Abigail anyway. He pulled the jacket of his suit on and did it up. It had been tailored for his male self, and it didn't fit him as well when he was female. The arms were slightly too long and it was a little too broad across the shoulders.

Patrick slipped the back way out of the building; Down a flight of stairs and out of a fire exit. He hoped he wasn't setting off any security alarms. He walked as fast as he could to his car, but that wasn't very quick. Every movement set his breasts jostling and he was afraid they would get free of his shirt. Also, his shoes were now the wrong size and he had to half shuffle his way to the car so that they didn't fall off.

He could see no-one in the car park and he soon reached his car. Then it was only the matter of a few minutes drive until he reached Abigail's shop.

Ian had stopped to use the men's room before leaving the building and he emerged just in time to see his boss's car pull out onto the street. He frowned as he saw that it wasn't his boss driving. Instead, there was a strangely familiar woman behind the wheel. Where was Patrick? And where had he seen that woman before?

He shrugged and headed over to his motorbike. That was a problem for another day. For now he might as well make full use of the early end of work Patrick had unexpectedly given him.

It's Hard to be a Man Part Five

by

Stephanie

Patrick yawned as he knocked on the door of Abigail's shop. The painkillers he had taken earlier had controlled his headache well enough, but they had also made him so drowsy he could barely stay awake, let alone keep his male form.

Abigail quickly appeared and let him in. "Why are you walking around as a woman?" she asked.

"I've had a terrible day," Patrick replied wearily. "Have you made any progress?"

"Well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. All we need is a pretext to get close enough to your ex-girlfriend so I can scan her."

"Yeah, but what can we use?"

"Simple. We use this." Abigail pulled a tatty pile of paper from a plastic bag.

"What's that? An ancient book from the time of these Irish witches Amanda is supposed to be a reincarnation of?"

"No!" Abigail said crossly, "It's my novel."

"Your...novel." Patrick looked at Abigail closely. She seemed to be totally serious. How was this going to help them?

"Here," she said offering it to Patrick, "have a look."

Patrick carefully took the bundle and opened it to a page at random.

'Lord Buckinghamshire's manly physique set Florence's

bosom heaving. She considered herself thrice damned for being

forcibly betrothed to the loathsome Count Boothby when this

stunningly handsome man was as yet unattached.'

Patrick frowned and looked at Abigail. "Amanda isn't the sort of girl who'd be interested in slushy romance books."

Abigail sighed, "Don't be so dense. Amanda works as an editor at Rothermann Press, doesn't she?"

Patrick nodded. He had known she worked at a publishing house, but he had neither known nor really cared what her actual job was.

"So," Abigail continued, "I've booked an appointment for us to see her tomorrow and attempt to sell my book to her company. I had to pull a few strings to get the appointment. Usually, unsold authoresses like me just have to submit their books and hope someone gets round to reading it."

Patrick looked dubiously at the manuscript. "Do you really think they'll buy this?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind, but I think it's highly unlikely. They don't print this sort of book, unfortunately. I might get luckily, but the important thing is meeting Amanda and for that I'll need your help."

Patrick remembered the last time he had seen Amanda and shuddered. "You don't need me to find her, just go to her office and they'll tell you where she is."

"That's not the problem," she replied. "It's going to take me several minutes to do a thorough psychic scan and during that time I can't concentrate on anything else. Like talking, for instance."

"So you want me to pretend to sell the book while you just sit there? You've forgotten that she's seen me. I frightened her half to death when I transformed in front of her. If she sees me again she'll have a screaming fit!"

"Relax, I have an idea that'll work." Abigail replied.

"What's that then?"

"You'll see. We'll see her tomorrow afternoon, so you'll have to take some time off from your job. You're going as my agent, so you'll need to read my book."

"That thing?" moaned Patrick. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. You do."

"Can't you get someone else to go with you?" Patrick asked. He hated the idea of actually walking around in public as a woman.

"I could, but then I'd have to tell them about you. I'm not about to start lying to my friends, even for you."

Impersonating an agent would only take an hour or so and it was better than someone else finding out about his curse. "Alright, I'll do it."

Patrick followed Abigail upstairs and settled down on her couch to read her book. He quickly found himself growing very sleepy, mostly due to Abigail's novel rather than the painkillers. It was so boring! He thought that he might appreciate it more since he was in female form and women preferred romance fiction. He tried to flick through it to get an idea of the plot, but the book was stuffed with various lords and ladies with rather stupid long winded names.

His eyelids got heavier and heavier. Patrick soon lost the battle and was fast asleep.

He was snoring softly as Abigail returned. "Oh, thank you very much," she commented, slightly annoyed. She considered waking him up, but he had looked so exhausted. She left Patrick sleeping on the couch only to return moments later with a blanket. She carefully took her book from where it had fallen in his lap and spread the blanket over him.

"There's no sense in disturbing you," Abigail said out loud, "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

Patrick yawned and stretched. As he slowly woke up he realized he wasn't in his own bed. He sat up from the couch and looked blearily around him. This was Abigail's apartment. He hadn't recognized it in daylight.

He stood up and stretched. It felt good not to have pain ripping through his head. It was almost worth staying in his female body to avoid that. He felt a little stiff from sleeping on the couch, but otherwise he felt okay.

He checked his watch. It was only fifteen minutes till he was due at work. That wouldn't be a problem as his office was only just around the corner. He didn't have a change of clothes, but that was a minor problem.

A small kitchen led off the side of the room and Patrick went looking for something to eat. Abigail didn't have any bacon, or any kind of meat. Typical, Patrick thought, she has to be a vegetarian. He finally found some breakfast cereals.

He was just finishing off a bowl of Cheerios when Abigail got up. She appeared in the kitchen wearing a dressing gown. "Morning," she said, "I hope you don't mind me not waking you up last night."

"No problem. I needed the rest," Patrick replied. "The last few days have been really stressful."

"I can imagine. To be honest, I'm surprised to see you're still female."

Patrick shrugged and brushed back a strand of his long hair. "Every second I stay female means one more second I can stay male later on. Talking of which, I better get off to work."

"Not so fast!" Abigail said. "I need you today, remember?"

"I have to get to work. I'm behind as it is."

"I'm doing this for your benefit," Abigail reminded him. "Anyway, you won't be able to fully concentrate on your job until you stop transforming."

Patrick nodded, "Alright." She was right, though it would cause him problems from his bosses as he really was needed at this critical time. He pulled his mobile phone from his jacket pocket and dialed his office. As he waited for someone to answer he concentrated on his throat until his familiar Adam's Apple had returned. He told the receptionist that he was going to be off ill again that day.

As he hung up he saw Abigail watching him with an amused expression. "What?" he asked.

"Sorry, it just sounds odd hearing a male voice coming from an obviously female body."

"Yeah, very funny," he replied, unamused.

"Never mind, once today is over, I'm certain I'll know how to cure you."

"Okay, but I still don't like the idea of confronting Amanda as a woman."

"Listen, you'll be okay. I've got your clothes in here."

"Clothes?" asked Patrick.

"Yeah, you can't wear your suit, can you? I borrowed some stuff from a friend of mind. She's about your size, but not quite as well endowed as you."

Abigail led him into her bedroom. She produced a bag and unwrapped it. It was a woman's suit, dark navy in color with gold colored buttons.

Patrick picked it up to look at it closer. "This has a skirt!"

Abigail winced, she had known this would be a problem. "It's all she had. Unfortunately she doesn't have any pants that would go with that. It's just for an hour so, Patrick. Anyway, there's no way anyone will know who you really are."

"Even so," Patrick protested, "it's still a skirt."

Abigail rolled her eyes, "So what? Pretend you're going to a Halloween party or something. Trust me."

Patrick relented. It would be over soon and then Abigail would have enough information to get rid of the curse. For now he'd have to endure this indignity.

"Alright, but only for as long as absolutely necessary."

"Great," she pulled out another bag. "Here's the underwear." She threw the bag to him.

"Underwear?" He opened the bag and pulled out a small mass of slippery silk lingerie. "No way! I'm not wearing these!"

"What have you got on now? Boxers? Do you have any idea of how that'll look under your skirt? Everyone will be staring at your ass." Though they'll probably be doing that anyway, she thought. "And you need the bra to keep your chest under control."

Patrick looked back down at the underwear. It would only be for an hour or two. No-one would be able to tell he wasn't really a woman. Anyway, some of this stuff looked quite nice.

Nice on a sexy girl, perhaps, but this was the first time he had ever considered what he'd look like in them.

"Okay, let's get this over with." Patrick said reluctantly to Abigail.

"Good. Do you want a hand?"

"No," Patrick replied quickly. "I'll be fine."

"You're sure?" Abigail almost said 'we're all girls here,' but managed to stop herself just in time.

"I'm sure. I'll call if I need you."

Abigail nodded and left the room.

Patrick emptied the lingerie on the bed. Where did he start? He stripped off his male clothes that he had been wearing from the day before. Right, what first? He picked out the panties from the pile and chose a plain pink silk pair. He got them on the wrong way round on his first attempt and cursed as he pulled them off.

He put them on the right way round and pulled them up around his hips. They fit snugly, very snugly in fact. He ran a finger over the small, silk-covered mound and shivered at the erotic thrill that ran through him. He pulled his hand away as he recognized the dangerous path he was heading down. Now was not the time to lose it and start masturbating again. He briefly considered giving himself back his male genitals, but he decided they'd be too cramped inside the panties. He could always bring them back if he started losing control later.

Next came the bra. To his shame he knew he needed one. Abigail hadn't been entirely sure what size he was, so she had got a range. He picked one at random and tried to work out how to get it on. Over the years he had got quite skilled in removing a bra in record time, but he had never had to put one back on.

He put his arms through the shoulder straps and then tried to reach behind himself to do it up. His arms quickly started to ache as he struggled to do the clasp up. Finally, he managed to do it, but was faced with another problem. Neither of his breasts were in the cups of the bra. He tried to pull the bra down over his breasts, but that clearly wasn't going to work.

He decided it was time to admit defeat. "Abigail, could you help me?"

"Okay!" she replied and opened the door. She looked at Patrick and had to use all her control simply to stop smiling. He looked so cute dressed only in a pair of panties and with his arms crossed in front of his breasts. His delicate face was flushed and it wasn't difficult to work out what the problem was. "Having problems with the bra?"

"Yeah, I need a second elbow in each arm to do it up."

"No problem, turn around and I'll do it for you." Patrick turned away from her, but didn't take his arms from his breasts. Abigail sighed, "If you don't unfold your arms I can't get this bra into position."

Reluctantly, Patrick did as he was told. Abigail straightened the shoulder straps and got Patrick to hold the cups over his breasts as she did the bra up. "Okay, turn around and we'll see how that fits." Patrick turned around and she checked the bra's fit.

It wasn't a perfect fit as it was slightly too small, but it was good enough. When she looked up she was surprised to see his face was even redder than before. "It seems to fit okay," she said. "How do they feel?"

Patrick's breasts felt like they were contained and cushioned inside the smooth fabric. It was almost like they were being held in two soft hands. "It feels really weird, but I'm comfortable."

"Good, try the pantyhose next."

She handed him the thin mesh of the tights. Patrick sat down on the bed and started to pull it up his legs.

"No, not like that." Abigail said. "They're not a pair of socks. Bunch them up and then ease it up the leg."

Patrick thought back to when he had watched his various girlfriends dressing in the mornings. He tried to copy their motions and the thin fabric glided up his smooth leg. He carefully put on the pantyhose and then stood. They felt very odd on his legs. A small breeze ran over him and his legs felt even more sensitive than before. It was if the pantyhose heightened the feeling.

Abigail nodded, "Easy one now; the blouse."

Patrick walked over to her, but stopped when he heard the familiar swishing sound of nylon clad leg against another. He was making that noise! This was just too weird.

He took the blouse from Abigail and pulled it on. It was good to have a garment that was actually designed to accommodate his large bosom. He had some trouble with the buttons as they were back to front compared to his shirts. He smoothed it down over his body. It seemed to fit fairly well.

Abigail was nodding, "Not bad. Okay, time for the skirt."

Patrick swallowed nervously. A skirt was a very feminine garment, and he felt more uncomfortable about it than any of the other clothes. Abigail held it out for him to step into. He succumbed to the inevitable and put one nylon clad leg into the skirt followed by the other one. Abigail eased it up his legs and did the clasp up. Patrick felt her zip up the skirt and then stand back. He felt a bit dizzy and detached from the situation. Part of him still couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Just the jacket and the shoes and you're halfway there," she said.

He took the jacket and slipped it on. It was cut quite differently from his male jackets and there was no way anyone could confuse it with one.

Abigail looked at him critically, "Not bad at all. Here, come have a look." She led him over to the mirror and Patrick looked at his image.

His first thought was that Abigail was right. He didn't look bad at all. In fact all he needed was to do his hair and get some make-up and he could be some corporate businesswoman. He wondered absentmindedly what Hank would make of this outfit. Hank preferred his women in tight and revealing clothes, but Patrick knew his body would look good even in a potato sack.

Damn it! He was daydreaming about Hank again! He turned quickly away from the mirror and shivered. He tried to ignore the arousal of his body and hoped Abigail couldn't see that his nipples were erect.

"Are you okay?" Abigail asked.

"Yeah...no problem. This is just a bit too weird, you know?"

"I understand. I've got some shoes that will probably fit you. They only have two-inch heels, and they don't quite go with the suit, but it's all I have."

"Good! If they were any taller I'd probably snap both my ankles." He turned and looked at his image in the mirror again. "This isn't going to work. Amanda will recognize me in an instant."

"Well, you wait till they're finished with you," Abigail said with a smile.

"They?" Patrick asked dubiously.

"You're booked into a salon this morning, by the time you leave even your own mother wouldn't recognize you."

"She wouldn't know me now!" He felt angry. She could have least have discussed this with him.

"Sorry, but Amanda saw a long-haired, blonde woman. You'd be surprised how different you'll look after a haircut."

"We'll see, but if I'm not convinced I look different enough, we call this off, okay?"

"Alright," Abigail agreed. She picked up a pair of shoes from the floor. "Try these on, and, if they fit, get used to walking in them. While you're doing that I'll get dressed."

Patrick took the shoes into the main room. They had thick heels and they didn't really match the suit. They seemed far too small for him, but he was surprised to find they were only slightly tight on his feet.

He sat on a chair and leaned over to do his shoes up. He was conscious of his breasts pushing into his legs as he did so. At least the bra was keeping them under control. However, the strange jiggling feeling on his chest had been replaced by a soft, containing feeling. It felt quite nice, actually.

Patrick finished doing the shoes up and climbed to his feet. He felt a little uneasy in his new shoes. He wasn't used to having even the two-inch heel that was on the shoes. His toes were cramped, and the way his feet were tilted in the shoes just increased his discomfort.

He took slow, small steps at first. His feet wobbled a bit, but he managed to keep control. After a few minutes he felt confident enough to experiment a bit. He found that his stride was shorter because of the skirt. It felt very strange to feel it brushing against his pantyhose. Patrick tried to remember how women walked in high heel shoes. Usually he would concentrate on their rolling hips rather than their feet, but he was sure they placed each step in exactly in front of the other. Like walking on a straight line.

He tried that method and he could feel the change in his walk immediately. Having to move the leg around and in front of the other one introduced a pronounced wiggle to his walk. He could feel his hips gyrating. Patrick wished he had a mirror to see if he had got it right.

"Very good for a beginner," said Abigail behind him. "A little exaggerated, but still a good effort."

Patrick jumped when he realized he was being watched. He turned around, embarrassed. "I was just seeing if I...could walk that way."

"You needn't worry. You're a natural." She checked her watch. "Are you ready? If we don't go now we'll be late for the salon."

"Okay," he replied. Patrick tried to keep the reluctance out of his voice, but he didn't entirely succeed. He really didn't want to do this. For the first time he'd be going out as a woman. If Abigail was successful that day, though, this would also be the last time.

He followed her down the narrow stairs and out into the alley. It was still fairly early in the morning and there was no-one else there. Even so, Patrick felt horribly exposed. The morning breeze rubbed against his legs and went up his skirt.

Abigail looked at him and obviously noticed his discomfort. "Are you okay. You don't look that happy."

"Of course I'm not happy! I'm standing outside where people can see me in a skirt!"

Abigail could have pointed out that no-one would see anything odd about him in a skirt with that body, but decided that that wasn't what Patrick wanted to hear right now. She led him down the alley to her own car. It was nowhere near as expensive as his car that was still parked outside her shop.

It took a few tries to start the car and it didn't sound too healthy when Abigail finally managed it. Patrick put on the seat belt and tried to get comfortable. He hated the way the belt pressed between his breasts.

The journey to the salon took them about fifteen minutes. During that time Patrick tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Several times he saw men checking him out while waiting at traffic lights. The thought that men were eyeing him up made him feel slightly excited and made his skin crawl at the same time.

Abigail was lucky to get a parking space only a block away from the salon, but even that seemed too far for Patrick. He stood on the sidewalk, feeling very self-conscious as Abigail locked her car up. Then they set off for the salon. He was shaking with fear as they passed other people. While he felt many eyes looking at him, no-one seemed to find him out of place or ridiculous looking. At that moment he was physically a woman. So there was no rational basis for his fear of his true identity coming out, but he couldn't calm himself.

After what seemed like endless hours they reached the salon. Patrick was glad to get off the street and inside. He looked around as Abigail booked them in. He cringed at the feminine styles of the salon. This certainly wasn't a unisex hairdressers. This was one place his masculine ego really didn't want to be.

He was led over to one of the chairs as the hairdresser and Abigail started discussing styles. As far as Patrick was concerned, they might as well have been talking in a foreign language. The hairdresser was a little disconcerted that it was Abigail who was doing all the talking and not Patrick. He kept checking with Patrick, who simply agreed with everything Abigail said.

Abigail had settled on a radically different hairstyle that was only shoulder length. Patrick understood the need to have something very different, but even so he found himself sad that his long hair was being so drastically cut.

When the hairdresser was satisfied he turned the chair around and tilted it back so he could wash and color it. Patrick closed his eyes and relaxed as the hairdresser worked. Soon, he found himself under a hairdryer.

Abigail was already discussing with another woman what make-up would work best with Patrick's face. They quickly agreed on a look and the girl started applying make-up to Patrick's face.

The girl worked quickly and professionally. Patrick found it difficult to believe he was doing this. Sure, he had a good reason, but even so, he was a man. He was sitting in a beauty salon getting pampered like a woman and now he was getting his face made up. Just think of your goal, he kept telling himself. He had to help Abigail or she couldn't help him.

"Well, ma'am." the girl said. It took Patrick several seconds to realize she was talking to him. "What do you think?"

Patrick sat up and looked at himself in the mirror. His mouth dropped open in utter surprise. He had barely gotten used to his new self, but now he saw a completely new stranger in the mirror.

She had short reddish hair in curls and the natural beauty of her face was heightened by the delicate use of make-up. He belatedly noticed the look of shock on his face and snapped his mouth shut. God, he was beautiful! A flawless goddess. He felt a delicious heat running through his groin. If only Hank were here to see him...

It's Hard to be a Man Part Six

by

Stephanie

Patrick fidgited and glanced nervously around Amanda's office. He tried to cross his legs, but his skirt got in the way.

"Will you please sit still," Abigail asked him. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm making you nervous?" Patrick replied. He still couldn't believe he was doing this. There he was, in his ex-girlfriend's office, wearing a skirt and waiting for her to arrive. "She's going to recognize me. Changing my hairstyle and color and adding some make-up isn't going to be enough!"

Abigail sighed. "If you don't relax I'm not going to be able to concentrate. Trust me, she won't recognize you."

Patrick forced himself to relax. He couldn't panic now. If he couldn't buy Abigail the time she needed to scan Amanda'a mind, then he'd probably keep transforming into a woman for the rest of his life. He smoothed his skirt down and made sure he kept his knees together. How he hated the female clothes he was wearing. They were neccesarry for the deception, but he had never been so nervous in his life. They made him feel vulnerable. His normal arrogant nature was gone. He was in uncharted waters here and he didn't like the sensation.

It seemed like an eternity before Amanda arrived, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Patrick's heart skipped a beat as she walked into the room and smiled.

"Good Afternoon," she said. "I'm Amanda Weston and I believe you have a novel we might be interested in."

Abigail nudged Patrick in the ribs and he belatedly recalled what he was supposed to do. He lurched to his feet and stuck out his hand. "I-I'm Rebecca Williams and this is my client Abigail Ferreira. Abigail has laryngitus at the present time and is under doctor's orders not to speak. So you'll have to forgive her."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Amanda said in sympathy. "I do hope you feel better soon."

Abigail nodded and smiled in thanks.

Amanda indicated the two chairs in front of her desk. "Please, sit down."

Patrick sat down and watched Amanda walk around the desk to her chair. So far everything seemed to be going fine. If Amanda had recognized him she was doing a very good job of hiding it. He caught himself eyeing the swell of her bosom under her blouse. She was still an attractive young woman. If Patrick hadn't gotten bored of her none of this would happened. No, it wasn't his fault, she should have been more interesting. How could she blame him for losing interest?

He looked to his left at Abigail sat next to him. Her forehead was creased in concentration. She had started psychicly scanning Amanda. Patrick hoped that Abigail was actually capable of doing that and wasn't just unhinged. He had no choice but to trust her, though.

"So," Amanda asked, making Patrick jump, "what made you bring Ms Ferreira's novel to Rothermann Press?"

"Well, Abigail feels that your company has one of the most prestigous publishing lines in the country. She felt that your company was perhaps too good for her book and it took a lot of persuading by me to convince her to try you." Patrick relaxed as his sales talk swung into action. This was something he understood.

As they talked, Patrick noticed that Amanda's smile was starting to slip. Slowly, but surely, it was being replaced with a frown. Patrick stopped himself from running from the building as fast as possible. She was working out who he really was!

Perhaps she recognized his speech patterns, or maybe the disguise wasn't good enough, but it was clear she was putting two and two together and was about to get four. He looked over at Abigail. She was still concentrating hard, so she couldn't be finished yet. "So what level of sales do you envision Abigail's novel reaching?" he asked in an attempt to keep Amanda's mind on the job.

It wasn't working. Her eyes widened in horror as she finally realized who Patrick was. "You!" she exclaimed in a strangled whisper.

He knew it was time to come clean. "Look, we've worked out what's going on. We--"

"Get out," Amanda said in a quiet, but terrified voice. Her hands were balled up and her knuckles were white with tension.

"Amanda, please listen--" Patrick started.

"Get out!" Amanda screamed as loud as she could.

Abigail's eyes snapped open and she stood up. She nodded to Patrick.

Patrick considered trying to talk to Amanda again, but one look at the terror on her face told him that wouldn't be a good idea. He quickly retreated to the door. Abigail stopped only to retrieve her book and then followed.

Everyone watched them leave, wondering what had caused Amanda's outburst. Patrick couldn't shake the idea that they all knew who he really was, and that they were secretly laughing at the man in the skirt.

Abigail didn't say anything until they were in the elevator. "You didn't do a bad job in there. I might make it into print yet."

"Oh Jesus, that was awful," Patrick said as he leaned against the wall. "Did you see her face? She was petrified!"

"It's to be expected. She doesn't know what's going on. She's probably starting to question her own sanity right about now."

Patrick remembered why they had gone to Amanda's office in the first place. "How did you do?"

"I was too busy admiring your spiel to concentrate on your ex."

Patrick almost exploded. "What?!"

"Joke!" Abigail said quickly. "I was joking. You can relax now, you've done your bit."

"And?"

"I think I know what needs to be done. I'll have to work it out and check everything. I don't want to make a mistake."

The elevator arrived at the building's foyer and they walked out towards the car park. A man walked passed them, blatently checking out Patrick's body as he did so. Patrick shivered. "The sooner I'm back to normal the better." He caught himself watching the man's ass as he walked away. He concentrated on his crotch and turned himself male there. It would make his panties feel cramped, but he needed to assert his maleness.

As Abigail drove them back to the shop, Patrick relaxed. He put his head against the head rest and closed his eyes. He had survived the morning. He felt tired now the fear had gone.

As soon as he got to Abigail's shop he could get back into his own clothes and male shape. He would be able to put all the awkward feminine feelings he had been having behind him.

"We're here," Abigail told him.

Patrick opened his eyes and climbed out of the car. He walked quickly over to the door of the shop and waited for Abigail to unlock the door.

"Becky?"

Patrick froze. No, that couldn't be who he thought it was. How could Hank know he was there? He couldn't stop himself from turning around and looking. Sure enough, there was Hank, leaning against Patrick's car. Patrick froze as a strange mixture of fear and excitement ran through him.

"It is you," Hank said. "I didn't recognize you with your hair that way. He started to walk towards Patrick. "I want to apologize for this morning. I had no idea you'd be in there. I thought it would be Patrick. Talking of which, have you seen him today? Ian said he had seen Patrick's car here and I thought I'd find him here."

Patrick cleared his suddenly dry throat. "N-No. Ummm... I borrowed it for the day."

"Oh," Hank replied. He clearly wasn't interested in Patrick's location now he had found 'Becky'. Patrick knew exactly what image was going repeatedly through Hank's mind. It was an image of Patrick sitting up in bed with his breasts exposed. Patrick couldn't really blame Hank. It was exactly the way he would have responded if he had been a man. Patrick looked at Hank's handsome face. It was only in the last few days that he had really started to appreciate how good-looking his friend actually was.

"Come on, Rebecca," came Abigail's voice as if from a distance. "We have work to do."

"I have to go!" Patrick squeaked. He half-ran into the shop and up the stairs. Once there, he couldn't stop himself from going to the window and peering through the curtains at Hank in the street below. Hank was looking a little bemused at Patrick's sudden retreat, but then he turned and sauntered back to the office.

"Do you know him?"

Patrick turned to see Abigail standing at the door. "Yeah, his name's Hank. He saw me yesterday morning as a woman. He's a friend of mine, but I can't handle it when he starts acting like that to me."

Abigail walked over and put an arm round Patrick. "I quite understand. Never mind though, it's over and we've done it. You go and get changed and I'll get you something to drink."

Patrick smiled gratefully and went into Abigail's bedroom. He started to sort through his clothes. He looked up and noticed the mirror. Patrick couldn't resist walking over and looking at himself closely.

Now that the meeting with Amanda was over he could relax and enjoy the beautiful image he made. His clothes still felt strange and wrong, but it was a pleasent sensation now. It felt so strange to be a beautiful woman. The outfit he had was conservative, surely he could get something more outgoing. Something that could really show off his fantastic body.

He realized Abigail would be wondering what had happened to him. He quickly stripped out of his borrowed female clothes and then concentrated on his male body. He had been in a female body continuosly for almost a full day. Maybe that was why his normal, male form felt a little strange to him.

He quickly dressed in his male clothes. Before he went back out to Abigail he noted down the sizes of the female clothes he had been wearing. They were only for reference, he rationalized, in the unlikely case that he needed to know his feminine clothes sizes.

Abigail smiled as he reappeared. "I bet it feels good to be back in your own body."

"Yeah," he replied, "I don't want to go through that again."

"You need to wash your face, dear." Abigail said.

"Why?" he asked just as he remembered. He had been wearing make-up!

Abigail stifled a laugh as he bolted for the bathroom. He was doing his best, but Patrick obviously had a real problem dealing with anything feminine about himself.

In the bathroom, Patrick looked at himself in the mirror and winced. The make-up made him look ridiculous. It was somehow worse that it was on his male face instead of his female one. After all, it belonged on a woman.

He washed his face and hair. He hadn't realized that dying his hair as a woman would mean he would be a redhead as a man. The dye slipped off his hair easily, though, and washed away. His hair had changed with the rest of him and perhaps the dye had somehow lost it grip.

Once he was certain no trace of make-up and hair dye was left he went back into the main room. Abigail had made some coffee. Patrick wished for something stronger, but he wasn't about to complain.

"I prefered you with red hair," Abigail said.

"I didn't, I'm just glad it came off when I changed. I wouldn't want to try to explain that one to my friends."

"Especially Hank. I saw the way you were looking at him as he walked over." She paused as she phrased the next question. "Do you want to talk about it."

Patrick felt hot with embarresmment. "Not really, I can handle it."

"Are you sure? It's probably because you're just not used to a woman's body. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Just drop it, okay?" Patrick demanded angrily.

"Okay," Abigail replied, "no problem." There was an uncomfortable pause. "I'll start sorting out what I got during my scan. I should have some good news for you tomorrow."

Patrick nodded. He checked his watch. It was 3.00pm, far too late to go into work. He didn't feel like it anyway. "I'll head home. Let me know the moment you're ready."

"Yes, sir!" she replied with a mocking salute.

He managed a little smile at that. "Sorry, Abigail, but today has really put me on edge."

"We're almost there," she reassured him. "You'll be okay."

Patrick thanked her and headed home. He could already feel the tension starting to build in his head as he started his car. He hadn't even been male for more than half an hour. He relaxed control over all of his body except his head and chest, so he could concentrate on his driving.

It was only as he was driving that he realized how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Patrick found a place to park near a McDonalds. He concentrated on his body and turned himself fully male again before heading up to the fast-food restaurant. His hunger was forgotten, however, as he glanced at one of the shops he was passing.

It was a shop given over to women's clothing. He glanced at several of the dresses on display in the window. They were reasonably upmarket, if not up to the usual quality of the clothes he normally wore.

Patrick frowned. He would never wear clothes like these anyway. They were for women, not men like him. The dark blue suit he had worn earlier had felt good, even though he had disliked it at the time. Why shouldn't he experience women's clothes one more time? Abigail was almost on top of the cure, and then this opportunity would be gone forever. What harm could it do? Anyway, this stuff looked so seductively inviting. Towards the back of the store he could see a lingerie section.

That settled it. Patrick opened the door and nervously entered the shop. An assistant came over to see if she could help. Patrick span a tale of getting some presents for his wife. He knew that she would probably work out who the clothes were for fairly quickly by the way he was acting, but he prefered the pretense to admitting that he was buying them for himself.

He marvelled at the array of styles and fabrics women wore. They made his own male wardrobe look so drab and boring. He had only intended to buy a dress, bra and panties, but he quickly got carried away. By the time he had reached the lingerie section he had already picked several dresses and a selection of skirts and blouses.

A quick stop to buy several pairs of shoes and boots and then it was on to the underwear section.

If he had been overawed by the dresses, he was totally overwhellmed by the lingerie. He had never realized how many different types and styles there actually were. He picked several very sexy matching bra and pantie sets and then selected a few basques and teddies almost at random.

Patrick could feel himself starting to lose control because of his excitement. It was almost like his female side was forcing it's way out so it could wear those lovely clothes. He knew he had to get out of the shop as fast as possible. The shop assistant took the clothes over to the till and started to wrap them for him. It was only then that he realized how much he had bought.

It didn't matter, he could afford the cost of all of them. A more pressing problem was getting out of the shop before he totally lost it. His scalp itched as his hair started to lengthen and change. Patrick had already lost the battle in his pants and was now female there. The arousal in his crotch was driving the change in the rest of his body. He watched his hand get slimmer and more refined as he tried to sign the cheque.

The assistant looked disconcerted as he handed the cheque over. She could obviously see that her customer was far more feminine now than when he had come in. Patrick could feel his breasts starting to increase in size. His shirt was missing a few buttons from the last time he had turned female and his cleavage would soon be plainly visable.

He quickly grabbed his purchases and clutched them to his burgening bosom. He concentrated all his efforts on keeping his head male as he finished paying for the clothes. Then he left the shop as quickly as he could and ran back to the car, almost losing his shoes from his smaller feet as he did so.

The stunned assistant watched him go. There was something very odd about that man, she thought. Mind you, he had a body that would able to carry off those clothes very well.

Patrick clambered back into his car and threw the mountain of clothes into the back. He gripped the steering wheel and tried to get a grip on himself. Abigail may be nearing a cure, he told himself, but that was no excuse to start getting careless. Never mind, no harm was done.

He brushed his hair out of his eyes and was surprised to see it was back to its long and blond style. It was a good thing he was going to remove the curse from himself or he would have to spend a fortune in salons everytime he changed.

He took several minutes to calm himself down, before turning his head and chest male and driving home.

Abigail was so engrossed in the book about Irish legends she was reading that she didn't hear the knocking at the door for several minutes. She looked up at the clock. It was nearly 7.00pm. Was Patrick back already?

She marked her place in the book and headed down to the shop. If Patrick seriously expected her to have worked out how to break his curse already she was going to have words with him. This was new territory for her. She had always known that she had abilities no-one else had. She had a talent for reading people's auras which helped her understand them, sometimes even better than they did.

But she had had no real evidence that any other form of magic was real. She had spent the last two decades researching it and while there had been many stories, there had been precious little proof.

Abigail had secretly begun to doubt that magic really existed at all. Even her own power could be little more than a delusion. But then Patrick had appeared and changed gender right in front of her. She genuinely wanted to help Patrick, but it was intensly gratifying to learn that magic really did exist. She reached the shop and looked out to see who it was.

It was a woman, but it wasn't Patrick in his female shape. Then Abigail recognized her. It was Amanda. Abigail nervously went to open the door. Amanda had really freaked out when she had recognized Patrick. Abigail just hoped she wasn't planning anything stupid.

Abigail opened the door and both women looked at each other carefully. Amanda was the first to break the silence. "Is he...she here?"

Abigail shook her head. "No, he's gone home. This must all be very distressing for you."

"Did...what I saw really happen?" Amanda asked slowly.

"Yes," Abigail replied. "It did. If it's any consolation, he's just as frightened by it as you are. Come on in, we have a lot to talk about."

Amanda thought about it for a few moments and then entered the shop. She evidently didn't trust Abigail yet, but she had to have answers.

"Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Something stronger?" Abigail asked.

"No...no, I'm fine." She collected her thoughts for a moment. "Patrick came to my house on Sunday. I'd finished with him the night before; he can't stop from wandering. Anyway, he turned up in a rage and said I'd done something to him. Then, he...changed, right in front of me! I thought I was going mad!" Amanda had to stop. Abigail could see she was nearly in tears.

"It's okay. I've been helping Patrick try and stop his transforming. I believe that in some way you were responsible."

"No!" Amanda denied vehermently, "I wasn't!"

"Not conciously," Abigail added quickly. "It's all rather complicated. Perhaps it would be easier if I showed you some of the charts I've made upstairs."

"Well...okay." Amanda followed Abigail up the narrow staircase.

"Tell me," Abigail asked as she climbed, "have you ever dreamed of Ireland?"

It's Hard to be a Man Part Seven

by

Stephanie

Patrick sat on the couch and looked in the direction of his bedroom. He couldn't believe he had gone and bought so much female clothing. During that week he had needed to work very hard simply to keep his new feminine side under control. He knew he was weakening under its onslaught. What was very worrying was that it felt so good and right when he was in female form.

The physical feelings he had when female were unsurpassed by anything he had felt as a man, but it was more than just a physical addiction. The worst thing about his curse was all the little daydreams and alien ideas that kept popping into his head. These female thoughts had centered on Hank for some reason. Even now, in his full male form, Patrick still felt attracted to him.

He shivered and glanced at his bedroom again. His one ray of hope in this mess was Abigail. All his hopes were pinned on her. If she couldn't help him then eventually one of his lapses would end him up in real trouble.

Patrick stood up and walked to the bedroom door. He opened it and looked in at his bed. It was covered by all the purchases he had made at the clothing shop earlier that afternoon. Even his old male self would have found them attractive, but he wouldn't have considered wearing them for one second. Patrick had intended to buy just one simple outfit to experiment with in the day or so before Abigail cured him. Instead he had lost it totally and bought almost an entire wardrobe.

But did it really matter? So he'd bought more than he had intended, that just meant he'd have more to play with over the weakened while he waited.

He slowly relaxed his control over his body. Almost immediately the transforming surge that he had been holding back rushed over him. His scalp tingled as his hair grew out. His waist shrank while his hips grew and his breasts expanded to fill his shirt.

He wasted no time in pulling off his ill-fitting male clothes. Patrick turned and looked at himself in the mirror. He hugged himself as he admired his feminine beauty. There was no doubt about it; he was better looking than any of the long line of women he had bedded over the years. How could any man resist him?

Patrick made a conscious effort to turn away from the mirror before he lost control again. Already he felt really turned on, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he gave in to his desires and masturbated. But what outfit to try? Something elegant and sexy, he decided.

The choice of underwear had almost been made for him. Among the lingerie was a basque with matching panties and stockings that called out to Patrick. It was a virginal white in color, but its design was anything but.

The rest of his underwear could wait. This is what he had to wear first. He slipped the straps over his shoulders and shivered as the cool silk pressed against his flesh. Doing up the upper catches on the basque was as difficult as doing up the bra had been the day before, but after a few minutes effort he had managed it. He straightened the basque and revelled in the feelings it gave. It was tight, but the way it held his body felt so good.

Patrick couldn't remember whether women wore the panties over the suspender straps or under them. He finally decided to wear them over the straps so he could pull them down easily if he needed to.

Patrick took his time with the white stockings as he didn't want to wreck them. He eased them up his smooth, long legs and then fixed the suspender straps to them. He pulled the lacy panties on last and then went to look at himself in the mirror.

He found it impossible to believe he was looking at his own reflection. The silk and lace of his basque and panties complimented his body perfectly. He could just see his blond pubic hair through the semi-transparent fabric of his panties. Patrick smiled and ran his hands over his body. It was even more alluring to have his body clothed like this than to see it naked.

He walked slowly over to the window, enjoying the swishing noise of his stockings. The suspenders of the basque pulled strangely against his thighs, though he enjoyed the sensation. Everything about the clothes was turning him on, from the way the cups held his breasts to the slightly constricting feeling around his torso.

Patrick looked out the window at the city skyline. He wished he could go out, but he couldn't have any fun as a man. His headache would cramp his style and he'd have to avoid any alcoholic drink or risk losing control. Of course, he wouldn't have to worry about either if he went out as a woman.

The idea startled him and his nipples got harder at the thought. Could he risk that? He'd have to be very careful where he went and he'd have to keep close control of his mind.

He shook his head and turned away. It was far too risky to go out on his own as a woman. He returned to the bed and sorted out a clingy, silvery top and short skirt to wear.

After he had pulled the top on he examined himself in the mirror. He didn't want his underwear to be too obvious, but fortunately it seemed to work okay. The top was tight and clung to his every curve. The skirt was made of deep, red leather. It was very short and very sexy. It was tight around his thighs and it restricted his movement a little, but it felt good.

Finally, came the boots that reached almost up to his knees. The heels were higher than those on the shoes he had worn to Amanda's office, but Patrick felt the end result was worth the instability.

He looked in the mirror and laughed. He looked like a free and easy girl out for action. Patrick tried copying a few poses he had seen calendar girls in. The fire between his legs was growing, but he didn't want to waste perhaps his last night as a woman stuck in his apartment.

Patrick wrestled with the two conflicting desires inside himself. On the one hand he wanted to go out and enjoy the seductive feminine feelings racing through his body, on the other was the fear of going out as a woman. He was afraid he'd enjoy it too much, but it would be the last time he could do this. Since his curse would be broken soon he didn't have to worry about reigning in his new desires.

Perhaps if he had been in his male form he could have maintained control, but slowly the female desires overwhelmed him. Over the past few days his entire time as a man had been filled with nothing but pain, while he had felt pleasure like nothing before as a woman.

Patrick reached for his address book. He decided to phone Abigail and see if he could persuade her to go out for a drink together. She would make sure Patrick wouldn't get in over his head on this final excursion. That was fully his intention until he opened his book at random and his eyes fell on the entry on the page. It was Hank's address.

An idea formed in his head. He could play a joke on his friend. Hank prided himself on bedding any woman he set his sights on, and he tended to get very depressed when he failed. Patrick could remember vividly Hank's expression from when he had accidentally exposed his female body to him. Patrick knew that Hank would grab any opportunity to bed 'Rebecca'.

Patrick reached for the phone. This was perfect, he'd get treated to a night out as a woman, he'd be protected by Hank from any dangerous situations, and he would get to annoy him at the same time. Drunk on female emotions he might be, but he could easily avoid getting into bed with Hank. The trick was to ride along with most of the feelings and not fight every single feminine thought that he had. It didn't matter if he thought Hank was attractive, that would disappear with the curse. All he would have to do was avoid going to bed with Hank at the end of the evening. He wasn't that far under the influence of his feminine half for that to be a real threat.

Even so, Patrick felt very nervous as he dialled.

"Hello?" came Hank's unmistakable voice.

"Hi, Hank. This is Becky. I just wanted to apologise for running off like that earlier."

"Don't worry about that. I'm sorry I embarrassed you yesterday by walking in on you."

Patrick laughed. "That's okay. There is one way you could make it up to me. Take me out for dinner."

Patrick had to give Hank credit. His friend didn't miss a beat before he said, "Sure! Eight o'clock okay with you."

"I'll be waiting," Patrick replied as seductively as he could.

"What about Patrick?" Hank was obviously slightly worried about upsetting his friend, and boss, who had told him to leave 'Becky' alone, but no warning was going to keep him from a sexy woman.

"Patrick's gone for the night. It's just me here...alone." Patrick smiled to himself. There was no way Hank could resist that. He was half-certain he heard Hank swallow on the other end of the phone. "Don't be late," Patrick added and hung up.

He shivered with excitement as he walked over to the window. He knew that he'd had effectively just told Hank to come over and fuck him. Hank was going to be furious when Patrick cold-shouldered him later. He looked at his female face in the mirror and frowned. He wasn't going to be able to do much with his hair beyond tying it back, but he needed to put on some make-up.

Patrick went back to the bedroom and found the bag of cosmetics he had bought. He set off to the bathroom to start experimenting. Before he reached his destination he paused. Was he pushing it too far? He had lost control of himself as a woman several times. That was true, but this time he wasn't fighting it all the way. As long as he didn't end up in bed with Hank, he could revel in his feminine feelings.

Yeah, this time was different. He didn't have to worry about long term effects. Sure, these strong feminine desires worried the old womanizer in him, but he knew they would be gone soon and somehow that removed the pressure from him.

Amanda had to sit down in a chair because her head was whirling so much. Abigail's story was fantastic, ludicrous even, but it was the only thing that came close to explaining what she had seen the previous Sunday.

How else could she explain how she had seen Patrick change into a voluptuous woman right in front of her eyes? Was the alternative that much better, though? She looked down at the astrological diagram that Abigail had given her. Personally, she couldn't make any sense out of it whatsoever, but Abigail maintained that it showed how she was a reincarnation of an ancient Irish witch.

"Even if all this is true," Amanda said, "what can I do about it?"

"It's simple really," replied Abigail. "If you have the power to do that to Patrick, you have the power to undo it. In fact, you may be the only person alive that can undo it at all."

"I still don't know how I'm supposed to have done it in the first place. I didn't feel any different that night."

Abigail pointed to a stack of books on a table. "I've been searching for any reference to that old Irish tribe, and I think I can work out a ceremony they performed that could break Patrick's curse."

Amanda thought for a moment. She was certain that it wasn't a trick. No-one could have faked what she had seen and Abigail seemed so genuine. "You have to admit, it's a very appropriate curse, isn't it. That self-centered egotist now has to stop turning into the very type of girl he likes to chase. It's a pity we can't leave him like that." She saw Abigail about to protest so she added, "But I know we can't." Much as Patrick deserved punishing this was too much. Abigail had told her how stressed he was trying to cope.

"Good," said Abigail, "we have to move fast. The most holy day of the tribe you used to belong to is just the day after tomorrow. I don't know exactly what it celebrates, but it is somehow linked to the holy day last week when you zapped poor Patrick."

Amanda snorted. "Don't feel sorry for him, he brought it on himself. So...are you going to tell him."

"Tomorrow would be best. He's was as worried about meeting you as you were of encountering him again. He's had a stressful day today. I'll let him rest. There's nothing he can do until Saturday anyway."

Amanda nodded and studied the astrological chart again. She still couldn't make any sense of it, but she didn't want to have Abigail try to explain it again.

As the hours passed, Patrick got more and more nervous. He had quickly realized what a stupid mistake he had made in asking Hank to go out with him. What had he been thinking?

He had to get out of it. He didn't want to phone Hank again. He knew that when he heard his friend's voice he wouldn't be able to cancel their date. What he should do, he decided, was to turn back into a man and tell Hank that Becky had had to rush home for some reason.

However, he found it ever so hard to take the first step and turn himself male again. Not because he couldn't do it, but because he didn't truly want to. Part of him didn't want to disappoint Hank and was actually excited about the evening ahead. He was also feeling a little revulsion to his old male form, to its slightly hairy and flat body.

It was as if his male form was the alien, unfamiliar body and his female form was the one he had been born with. For the first time he was starting to feel at home in his curvy, feminine body.

Slowly the hands on the clock crept towards 8.00pm. His doorbell rang half an hour before Hank was due, making Patrick jump. He made a conscious effort to control the panic he was feeling before heading to the door. He knew he should not answer it. He should just stay quiet until whoever it was went away. Patrick looked through the spyhole in the door. It was Hank alright, obviously impatient to get to 'Becky'.

He felt his hands go to the lock. Desire was starting to overcome his fear again, and Patrick lacked the willpower to stop himself opening the door.

Hank smiled broadly at the sight of Patrick. He obviously liked what he saw and made sure that Patrick knew it. Patrick shivered as Hank's gaze rolled over his body.

"You're look fantastic," Hank told him.

"Thanks," Patrick managed to say. He knew he should slam the door and stay as far away from Hank as possible, but he found it impossible to move away from his friend. Instead, he walked into the passage and pulled shut his apartment door behind him, closing off his only escape route.

"So how are you finding city life?" Hank asked him as they started to walk towards the elevator.

Patrick tried to remember the cover story he had invented for 'Becky', but his close proximity to Hank made it difficult to concentrate. He couldn't stop himself from repeatedly glancing at Hank's muscular body. "Oh...it's fine. I haven't been out much yet."

"You just leave that to me," Hank said warmly, "I know all the best places here. You won't forget this night in a hurry."

No, I won't, thought Patrick. He smiled nervously at Hank as they travelled down in the elevator. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, that he'd probably regret it, but at the moment there was nowhere else he wanted to be than with Hank. He was surprised that Hank hadn't noticed his hair had returned to its original length and color. You couldn't expect men to notice everything, he supposed.

As they left the building, Hank put his arm around Patrick's shoulders. Patrick felt so vulnerable as Hank's fingers gently stroked his shoulder. Hank's caress made Patrick's skin tingle and he'd sighed. He looked up at Hank's face to see if his friend had noticed what effect it was having on him.

Hank was looking straight ahead, but the smile on his face spoke volumes. He already knew this girl was as good as his.

Patrick put his own arm around Hank's body. It felt very strange to be doing this. Here he was, walking down the street with an arm around a man! Patrick could feel Hank's muscles rippling under his thin shirt.

All too soon for Patrick's liking they reached Hank's car and they had to let go of each other. Hank opened the passenger door for Patrick, who decided to watch Hank walk around to the other side of the car before sliding onto the seat. His skirt was starting to ride up a little so Patrick tugged it flat and wiggled in his seat until he was comfortable.

Hank drove extravagantly, definitely risking a ticket. It took Patrick a few minutes to work out why he was doing it. Hank was showing off! He was trying to impress Patrick with his car. I suppose cars really are an extension of a man's dick, he thought wryly. He had done similar things before, but he had never really been consciously aware of it before.

Hank had made reservations at a good Italian restaurant. It had actually been Patrick that had told Hank about it, but he made of show of not knowing it.

When they parked, Patrick decided to wait for Hank to open the door for him. Well, if he was going to be a woman tonight he might as well let Hank do all the work. Patrick had to be careful when getting out of the car not to flash his panties at the passers-by. There was a knack to sliding his ass around and then easing himself out of the car, but he didn't quite have the hang of it.

If the waiter had any objections to Patrick's clothes he kept them to himself. They were led quickly to their table. Patrick allowed Hank to hold the chair out for him to sit down. Despite his reservations, he was starting to enjoy himself. He was totally unused to being treated this way.

The waiter handed the menu to each of them. Patrick tried to find the most expensive dish on the menu. It always seemed to him that that was the major consideration most women made when choosing their food and wine. Anyway, Hank was paying. The waiter returned after a few minutes to take their orders and to hand Hank the wine list.

Patrick was a little annoyed that he had been automatically excluded from this decision. There were many drawbacks to letting men take the lead, he realized. It was clear that Hank didn't know wines that well and he was steered towards a reasonable choice by the waiter.

There was silence for several moments after the waiter left. It was broken eventually by Hank, who asked Patrick, "So what do you do then?"

Patrick dredged up the cover story he had thought up. "I used to be a secretary. Got bored of that, so I came here looking for a better job. Maybe in finance. I don't know yet. Something more interesting, you know?"

Patrick didn't want to have to talk too much about himself. The more he said, the more likely it was that a hole would appear in his story. Patrick asked Hank about his job and was slightly annoyed to notice that he was quite happy to talk on and on about himself. But at least it meant Patrick wouldn't trip over himself with some aspect of 'Becky's' life.

As the evening passed, Patrick started to relax and enjoy himself. He knew it should worry him that he was getting more and more attracted to Hank, but somehow it just didn't matter as much as it had. Patrick still planned to leave Hank at the doorstep and not invite him in. He knew his self control could only take so much. Anyway, Patrick didn't want Hank to think 'Becky' was the sort of girl who'd sleep with him on the first date.

At the end of the meal, Hank reached over and held Patrick's hand. It felt very small and vulnerable in Hank's powerful grip. He shivered with passion at the touch.

"Shall we go?" Hank asked.

Patrick knew what he was really saying was 'your place or mine?' Well, let him think that if he wanted to. Hank still wasn't going to get lucky that night.

They took the long route back to Hank's car. Hank and Patrick had their arms around each other again. Patrick found himself quite enjoying the sense of protection he felt with Hank. He let his head rest against Hank's side and breathed in his friend's masculine scent.

When they reached the car, Hank opened the door for Patrick again. He turned to Patrick and paused before asking. "Do you want to come back to my place for a drink?"

Not particularly subtle, thought Patrick. Though he knew the way he had been acting that evening had been sending Hank a very strong message. He smiled at Hank, "I'd really like to, but I have to be up early tomorrow."

"Can't have you being late, can we." he said with a smile.

As they drove back to his apartment, Patrick tried to examine his feelings. As much as he hated to admit it, his opinions had changed over the course of the day. He was still worried by the way the feminine side of him would occasionally grab control, but he was no longer fearful of any female thought or action he had.

This whole experience had been a huge eye-opener for him. To experience life as a woman, if only for a few hours, had taught him so much. He realized he'd be a little reluctant to give up this new feminine side he had discovered when Abigail perfected the cure.

Hank escorted him all the way up to his apartment door even though Patrick said it was unnecessary. They stood for a moment holding hands. Patrick knew now was the moment he had to exert his control. Regretfully, he let go of Hank's hands and pulled his keys from his handbag.

He opened the door and then turned back to Hank. "Thanks for a wonderful evening, Hank."

Hank ran his hand up Patrick's arm. "It doesn't have to end here if you don't want it to."

Patrick shivered. His desire for Hank was reaching new heights. His erect nipples had to be obvious to Hank. It was only now that he realized how aroused he really was. His whole being yearned to be possessed by Hank's manly physique. He couldn't allow his body to rule him. He had to be strong. "I have to admit I'm tempted, but I don't think Patrick would be that happy to find you here when he gets back tomorrow." Patrick hoped that reminding Hank of his male self would put Hank off.

"I suppose this is goodnight, then." Hank replied, moving forward to kiss Patrick.

Patrick was frozen with panic. He had no idea how to brush Hank off politely. Then it was too late and Hank was gently lifting Patrick's chin.

This isn't happening! Patrick told himself over and over. He looked up into Hank's strong, blue eyes. They looked so warm and inviting. So deep and caring.

Slowly, so slowly, Hank leaned down until their lips met. The first kiss was soft and small, but the next was stronger and more passionate.

Hank wrapped one arm around Patrick and held him tight. Patrick was melting in the embrace. It felt so good to have Hank's strong body pressed against his. He opened his mouth and felt Hank's tongue slip into his mouth. For the first time in his life, he was taking the submissive role, and with a man as well!

What delighted him most was a long lump on Hank's body that was pushing into Patrick's stomach. Patrick was thrilled to be able to provoke this response in his friend.

But he shouldn't be doing this! Playing the woman that night may have been fun, but he could not afford to let it go too far. He had to pull away now and leave Hank on the doorstep.

Reluctantly, he broke away from Hank and stepped slowly backwards. Patrick stopped when they were only holding hands. All he had to do now was let go and then shut the door, leaving Hank outside. Nothing difficult about that.

Patrick's body wasn't paying attention to its mind, though. It stepped back through the doorway without letting go of Hank.

Hank offered no resistance and allowed himself to be pulled into Patrick's apartment. He shut the door behind him and then turned back to face Patrick.

It's Hard to be a Man Part Eight

by

Stephanie

The door closed with a surprising sense of finality. The last bastion of masculinity in Patrick's mind knew there was no escaping his fate now. Hank was going to make love to him, and he was going to willingly spread his legs for his friend.

Hank, with a smile on his face, moved slowly towards Patrick. He was already undoing the buttons on his shirt, exposing his muscled chest.

Patrick couldn't move. His eyes were wide with a mixture of passion and terror, and his heart was hammering away so fast under the swell of his breast that he thought it was going to burst.

Hank undid the last button on his shirt as he reached Patrick. He looked down at what he thought was Patrick's cousin. She seemed a little unsure of herself, which was fine with Hank. Obviously Becky didn't get out that much. She had an absolutely stunning body, and had been making very unsubtle come-on's to Hank all evening. Yet it seemed she was inexperienced when it came to sex. This was fine with Hank, he never liked it when girls tried to be dominant with him. He wrapped his arms around her slim and curvy frame. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to land this one so quickly.

They kissed again. This third kiss lasted longer and was more passionate than the others. Hank's hand strayed down Patrick's back until it reached his soft posterior. After gently rubbing Patrick's ass through the leather skirt, the hand drifted down to his stocking clad thigh.

Patrick could do no more than cling to Hank's body as he felt his lover's hand start to work up under his skirt. The hand slid across the silk of Patrick's panties and then down between his legs. His legs almost gave way as he felt Hank's fingers lightly stroke his mound, separated from it by only the thinnest of fabrics.

Patrick buried his head in Hank's bare chest and gave a long sensuous groan. His hips bucked in time to Hank's fingers as they worked on his lips of his vagina. He was building quickly to his first orgasm when Hank's hand withdrew. Before he could protest, Hank's strong arms had lifted him up and started carrying him into his spare bedroom.

He wrapped his arms around Hank's neck and smiled. Patrick's whole life as a man, and everything outside the bedroom, seemed utterly unimportant to him now. There was only the here and now. A man and a woman about to engage in the perfectly normal act of lovemaking.

Without any effort Hank set Patrick down on the bed. Then he stripped off his shirt. He looked down at Patrick with fiery desire in his eyes. "Take off your skirt," he said.

Patrick hesitated and then reached down to undo the short leather skirt. He had to stop his fingers shaking before he could manage it. Then he quickly pushed it down his legs and off.

Hank reached down and gave a few teasing caresses to Patrick's already wet mound. "Sit up," he instructed.

Patrick instantly obeyed. He let Hank pull off the silvery top he was wearing. He was glad he was wearing the white basque underneath. It was, without doubt, the sexiest piece of lingerie he had, and he filled it so well. He could tell by the expression on Hank's face that it was having the desired effect.

Patrick reached forward and starting working at the belt of Hank's pants. Frantically, he tugged and pulled until he had Hank's pants undone. He pulled them down and was confronted by the large lump in Hank's shorts. Patrick's heart fluttered as he realized his face was only a few inches away from Hank's member.

At the back of Patrick's mind the last part of his masculinity tried to assert itself, but it was a hopeless battle. His yearning for Hank's penis was growing steadily. Patrick edged slowly towards Hank's crotch. Infinitely slowly he rubbed his cheek against Hank's penis through the cotton fabric. He was pleased to feel it twitch in response.

Patrick smiled and placed his mouth in front of Hank's cock and blew softly. He was delighted to see Hank tense in response. Hank's hand ran through his luxurious hair and then gently pulled his head closer. He took the hint and pulled down the shorts.

He was so close that he was hit in the face by Hank's cock when it sprung free. He couldn't help giggling at that. Patrick reached up to hold his friend's member. Had he ever had one of those? It seemed so long ago. His trembling hand closed around Hank's hot length. Patrick planted a kiss on the head of Hank's penis. Hank tensed again and gave a little gasp.

Patrick smiled, he knew intimately how that felt. He placed one hand on Hank's hip to brace himself, then he slowly slid his mouth down onto his lover's pole.

"Oh...yes," Hank whispered.

Patrick was surprised by how big Hank's penis felt in his mouth. There was no way he could get it all the way in without gagging. Every time he breathed in Patrick could smell Hank's masculine scent.

Slowly he started to move up and down Hank's stalk, letting his tongue pay particular attention to the head as he did so.

Hank gripped Patrick's head so as to control the rate of Patrick's pumping. With his free hand, Patrick reached up to massage Hank's testicles. The warm feeling in his crotch spread as he sucked Hank. He could tell by the moans coming from Hank that his climax wasn't far off.

Before that point was reached, however, Hank pulled Patrick away. "Plenty of time for that later," Hank explained. Without warning he reached down and grabbed Patrick's panties with both hands. With ease he pulled the panties apart, exposing Patrick's willing vagina.

Patrick allowed himself to be pushed onto his back. This was the moment of truth, the point where he became truly a woman. He knew he should be fighting it, that he had been born a man, but there was no way he could resist the feelings he had now.

He was a woman. Hank's woman.

Patrick's eyes were glued to Hank's penis, slick with his saliva, as his friend kneeled on the bed. Hank gently lifted Patrick's legs up and apart. Patrick rolled his head back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. He was determined to remember every sensation of this first time as a woman.

Hank brought his penis to the lips of Patrick's vagina and then gently eased it in. A moan escaped Patrick's painted lips. So this was what it felt like to be penetrated. The well-lubricated walls of his vagina parted to admit Hank's hot length into his body.

By the time Hank had entered him fully, it felt like every part of his body was filled by this welcome intruder. Hank's penis felt so big, though it wasn't painful to have his friend inside him. Instead it felt amazingly good. The feeling of fullness was so strange, but it was what his body had yearned for to make him feel complete.

Hank started to thrust, slowly building up speed. The friction ignited a fire in Patrick's belly. He opened his eyes so he could see the man that was making love to him. Sweat was glistening on Hank's body as he moved above him and it showed off his rippling muscles really well.

Patrick's nails dug into Hank's back as waves of pleasure swept over him. He was writhing in ecstasy as he rapidly approached his climax. Without warning, a fire of pure eroticism coursed through his body. He gave a strangled cry, arched his back, and squeezed with his arms and legs as tightly as he could. Hank had to stop thrusting as he was pulled as deep as was possible inside Patrick.

Patrick could do nothing but lie there as his orgasm reverberated throughout his entire being. It was slow to die away and seemed to last forever in comparison to the powerful but abrupt male orgasms he was used to.

Patrick opened his eyes to see Hank's grinning face inches from his own. "I've never felt this good in my life!" Patrick told his friend, and now lover, truthfully.

"We've barely started, baby," Hank replied. He started to thrust again. Hank was rougher now, as his own needs became more and more urgent. Patrick could do little more than hang on, totally overwhelmed by the sensations his body was giving him.

The trusting grew faster and more frantic until, with one final grunt, Hank tensed and spurted deep into Patrick.

Patrick imagined he could almost feel Hank's sperm inside him, already beginning the long trek towards his womb. They hadn't taken any precautions, but Patrick didn't care. He wanted to get pregnant. To feel new life growing inside him.

Hank pulled out sooner than Patrick would have liked; he was still revelling in the new found sensation of penetration.

They lay in each other's arms for several minutes as they regained their strength. Patrick rested his head on Hank's chest and marvelled. So that was what it was like for a woman. So intense and so erotic. He no longer felt like a man in a woman's body. Now he had truly become a woman.

He felt Hank's penis returning to life and he slipped down to attend to it.

The morning sun rose to find Patrick trying to work out his feelings. At some point during the previous night he had drifted off to sleep, and he had awoken to find that hank had already left.

Part of him was relieved he didn't have to deal with Hank straight away, the other part was sorry he had left so quickly. Hank probably didn't want to run into Patrick coming home and catching him with 'Becky'. Yes, that was why Hank had left in the night.

Stop thinking about Hank like you're a lovesick schoolgirl, he thought to himself angrily. He felt strange when he thought back to the events of the previous night, but he found it impossible to be revolted at what he had done. Even now, it didn't seem wrong.

He concentrated on his male form and felt his feminine curves melt away. Whatever it took, he was going to have to stay male until Abigail had a cure ready. It was still too early in the day, but he decided that as soon as he could he would head over to Abigail's shop to see how far she had got.

Patrick walked around the room, trying not to notice how odd and different his male body felt. Abigail would have a cure soon, Patrick told himself. Then everything would go back to the way they were before. It worried him slightly that he couldn't drum up much enthusiasm for the idea.

He walked past the spare room where he had spent most of the night with Hank and went into his own bedroom. Patrick fully intended to dress in his male clothes until he saw the pile of feminine garments he had bought the previous day.

He looked longingly at all the silky feminine clothes on his bed. He didn't want to wear coarse and dull male clothes. He wanted to feel soft and silky fabrics against his skin.

Patrick turned away angrily. "What is the matter with you?" he asked himself out loud. "Don't you want to be a man again?"

No, I don't, he realized in a flash. He had spent the week in absolute fear of losing control and sleeping with a man. Now that it had actually happened he couldn't understand why he had been so afraid.

He let his body slip back into its female shape while he sorted out a dress to wear.

Abigail and Amanda had talked well into the night. It was long past midnight before Amanda headed home. Abigail knew Patrick's ex-girlfriend was still in a state of some shock from what she had learnt that day. Now Amanda knew what was going on, however, she no longer went in fear of her own sanity.

Abigail woke up late and barely had time to get ready to open the shop on time. Not that there would be many customers on a Friday, but she couldn't really afford to stay shut. There was nothing more she could do to help Patrick anyway until the following day.

She sat behind the counter slowly picking her way through a book on Irish folklore for the tenth time. The ritual she, Amanda and Patrick had to perform seemed simple enough, but she didn't want to make any mistakes.

Abigail was surprised to hear the shop door open. Normally she wouldn't see many customers until midday at least. She looked up to see Patrick, in female form, walking into the shop. He was wearing a white dress with a surprisingly revealing, plunging neckline.

"Patrick?" she asked. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he replied, slightly bemused.

"Then why are you in your female body and dressed like that?" Abigail remembered the trouble she had had convincing him, just the previous day, to wear a conservative business suit.

Patrick smiled, "I'm fed up with having a migraine all the time and it'd be a shame to cover this body up."

Abigail blinked, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Never better," he replied. "Have you worked out a cure yet?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure you'll like one of the elements of the ritual we have to go through."

"What's that then?"

"Your ex-girlfriend came here yesterday. I told her what had been happening and she's agreed to help."

"Help!" Patrick exclaimed. "She was one who did this to me in the first place!"

"Totally unintentionally," Abigail pointed out. "She genuinely wants to help. Without her, I can't help you."

Patrick was silent for a few moments. "It doesn't matter anyway. Something...wonderful happened last night and now I've had time to think about it I've decided I can't give up this body."

"What?!" Abigail was utterly surprised. "What changed your mind?"

Patrick blushed. "Hank and me...well...we...you know."

"Oh no!" Abigail said in shock. "you couldn't keep control, could you?"

"No, but as I said, it doesn't matter. I'm a woman now. I should dress as a woman and act like one."

"Just because you slept with him doesn't mean you have to be a woman forever!" Abigail said desperately. "You're still Patrick, and you shouldn't stop trying to break the curse simply because this happened."

Patrick shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I've realized that it's what I want."

"But how will you live?" Abigail protested. "You have no legal identity as a woman."

"Hank will support me," Patrick replied with a smile. "In time we'll marry and raise a family." he added wistfully.

"But, but..." Abigail had run out of things to say. She was totally shocked by Patrick's sudden mental turnaround.

"I have to go," Patrick said. "I want to surprise Hank at the office. Thank you for all you've done." He quickly turned and left before Abigail could raise any more objections.

She watched him walk past the shop window, stumbling a little on his high heels. Now what was she going to do? After a few minutes she got up and closed the shop. This was an emergency and she was going to need some help.

Not far away, Patrick drove into the car park of the building he worked at. He locked his car and headed to the entrance.

The receptionist called out to him as he walked past. "Can I help you, miss?"

Patrick belatedly realized no-one would recognize him in his female body. "I'm here to see Hank Cox, I'm a friend of his."

"If you'll wait a moment I'll see if he's in." The receptionist replied.

Patrick thanked her and scanned one of the paintings hanging on the wall as he waited.

"Rebecca?"

Patrick turned to see Hank walking down the stairs. "Hiya, I decided to drop in and say hello." He shivered as he walked towards Hank, remembering what they had done the previous evening.

Hank enveloped Patrick in a strong embrace and they kissed. Already, Patrick could feel himself becoming aroused. He knew in every fibre of his being that he was meant to be with Hank.

Together, they headed up to the office where Hank worked. "We're very busy at the moment," Hank explained. "It isn't helped with Patrick being off ill a lot this week. Have you seen him this morning?"

"No, I have a feeling he won't be around for awhile." Patrick replied with a playful smile.

In the office, everyone was hard at work. Hank introduced him to all of the people there. He pretended he was meeting them for the first time. They were so busy Hank didn't have much time to talk with him, but he didn't really mind. He was with Hank and that was all that really mattered.

It felt odd to be at work, but not doing anything, just watching the others struggling to meet the deadline. He couldn't help but be impressed by the way Hank was co-ordinating the department. Patrick thought that when he left, Hank would be a more than adequate replacement.

Left? he thought in slight confusion. Why would he leave? Then the answer came to him; by then he would be married to Hank and wives were supposed to stay at home and look after the kids.

Patrick tried to imagine what his kids would look like. If they took after their mother and father they'd be near perfect.

Hank had to go and see Patrick's boss through the lunch break, but he told the others they shouldn't work through the hour. They needed the rest and would be no good if they were totally exhausted.

Patrick headed off with Ian and Susan to a small restaurant the two often went to. They acted quite differently around him now than they did when he in his male form. Ian was, if anything, even more reserved than normal, while Susan was more open and glad to have another woman to talk to.

Because Ian was so quiet, Susan led the conversation. Patrick steered it around to talking about Hank and his male self.

"Hank's okay," Susan said, "but can get a bit full of himself at times. A word of warning, he does tend to be a little free with his affections. If I were you I'd keep a close eye on him."

Patrick bridled a bit at that, but kept it from showing. She was jealous, that was it. Susan had had her chance and now it was too late. Patrick changed the subject, it was time to find out what his workers really thought of him. "So what's my cousin like? I've never seen him at work."

Susan was quite for a moment, obviously searching for a tactful way to say what she thought of him. "He can be a bit single-minded and he can push us hard, but he really is committed to the job."

Patrick smiled, "Yeah, he was always like that. It seems to have done him okay up to now."

Susan nodded, "He just needs to think of the people working under him a little more. I shouldn't complain, we've done well in bonuses since he took over, even if that does mean my social life is dead. I--"

Ian dropped his coffee, spilling it over the table. Susan and Patrick jumped out of the way, managing to avoid getting any of it on them.

"Ian!" Susan exclaimed. "Watch out!"

"S-sorry," he muttered and tried to clean the mess up with a napkin.

"Are you okay?" she asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I-I'll be right back." he stammered and then staggered off to the men's room.

"Hope he isn't coming down with what your cousin has," Susan said worriedly as she watched him leave.

"Somehow, I doubt he is," Patrick replied. What had caused Ian to freak like that? he wondered.

In the men's room, Ian staggered into a stall and locked the door. He sat down heavily. He was remembering. Remembering all of it.

Muted alarm bells had been ringing all morning, ever since Hank's girlfriend had appeared. He had seen her driving Patrick's car a couple of days before, but now he knew he had seen her once before that.

It had been back on Monday when he had left work to head home. He had noticed Patrick's car parked down an alleyway outside some weird, little shop. Ian had edged closer and had seen Patrick inside the shop. And then Patrick had...changed! Right in front of Ian's eyes he had become a voluptuous blonde woman!

The very same woman that was sat out there, right now, with Susan!

It's Hard to be a Man Part Nine

by

Stephanie

"And I thought I couldn't be surprised anymore," Amanda said, shell-shocked. She turned to Abigail who was negotiating her car back towards her shop. "Are you sure of this?"

"Yes!" Abigail replied for the third time. "I wouldn't have pulled you out from your office like that if I wasn't certain."

"I just can't believe it. Patrick and Hank together...having sex. And he doesn't want to break the curse?"

"It's...worse than that. He wants to stay female and marry Hank."

"MARRY HANK!?!" Amanda almost screamed.

"Ow! Mind my eardrums!"

"Sorry." Amanda tried to find something coherent to say. "Neither Hank or Patrick are the marrying type. Why did Patrick change his mind so fast?"

"He's been trying to control his new body all week. Like someone driving a new car they can't quite handle yet. Unfortunately, he crashed before he could get enough experience, and now he's wandering around in shock."

"He's not the only one." Amanda tried to digest all she had been told. "So you think this is his reaction to making love as a woman? But why settle on Hank of all people? He's almost as bad as Patrick is, or was."

"Perhaps he's acting the way he believes the ideal woman should?" Abigail suggested.

"Serves him right if he is." Amanda rubbed her forehead. Now she was getting a migraine. "So what are we going to do?"

"Simple," Abigail replied, "we carry on with the ritual as planned. Patrick doesn't have to do much more than simply be there for it to work."

"Which in his current state is the absolutely last place in the world he'll want to be," Amanda pointed out. "How do we get him there and keep him there?"

"That's...something we're going to have to work on." Abigail replied uncertainly.

Susan knocked on the door of the bathroom cubicle. "Ian," she called, "are you okay?"

"W-what are you doing in the men's room?" came a small voice from inside.

"I came to check if you were alright. You've been in there for twenty minutes!"

"I'm...ah...fine. You go on ahead and I'll catch you up soon."

"Okay, Ian." Susan replied. What the hell was up with him? she thought. "Me and Becky will see you back at the office. Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yep, everything is fine!" Ian replied, trying to sound upbeat, but only managing to sound terrified. He relaxed slightly as he heard Susan walk from the room.

At least he wouldn't have to go out there and face Patrick again. How had his boss done the impossible and turned himself into a woman? Did Hank know he was sleeping not with Patrick's cousin, but with Patrick himself? Probably not, Hank and Patrick were friends, but not that sort of friends.

Ian's mind drifted back to the previous Monday night when he had seen Patrick do the impossible. His boss had been down an alley in a small occult bookshop when he had changed sex. Ian was certain that was not a coincidence. Maybe it was run by a witch and she had done it to him. The idea seemed stupid, but no more absurd than what he had seen with his own eyes.

He decided the coast was clear and cautiously opened the stall door. The men's room was deserted. He quickly moved over to the washroom door and looked into the restaurant. By opening the door a crack he could see where he, Susan and 'Becky' had been sitting. Someone else was sitting there now.

Ian slipped back into the restaurant and headed for the exit, checking all around himself for his boss. Back on the street he tried to decide where to go. He couldn't head back to the office, because Patrick would be there.

Perhaps he should check out that shop. Find out what happened to Patrick, and maybe find a way to reverse what had been done to him.

It was a short walk to the shop. Looking in through the window at the piles of occult and New Age books Ian was beginning to question his judgement. What if whatever had been done to Patrick was done to him?

He opened the door and jumped three feet in the air when it triggered a little bell. He stood dead still as he waited to see if anyone would answer it.

After several heartbeats he convinced himself that no-one was coming and edged into the shop. He had to find something to help Patrick. Carefully he looked around the small bookshop. It was impossible to tell if any of the books was of any use. He didn't know which ones carried the information he needed.

He looked behind the counter. Perhaps the witch kept her important stuff there.

"Back away from the cash register," came a voice. A female voice.

Ian turned in horror to see a woman standing halfway up a narrow flight of stairs. She had red hair and was dressed like a cross between a gypsy fortune teller and a hippy. "Don't turn me into a woman!" he screamed and dived behind the counter.

Abigail frowned. That was not the normal reaction of a thief. "What did you say?"

"I recognize that voice," said Amanda behind her. "It's Ian, isn't it? You work with Patrick."

Ian carefully poked his head above the counter. He recognized the second woman as well. "You're Patrick's latest girlfriend."

"Latest ex-girlfriend," she corrected him. Amanda moved towards him and he ducked down. "Look it's alright. We're not going to do anything to you. We're trying to cure Patrick before he gets into any more trouble."

Ian's head popped up again, "Really?"

"Really. Come on upstairs and we'll explain."

Ian decided he couldn't risk running in case the red-haired woman really was a witch. Perhaps if he played it cool he'd be okay. Reluctantly he followed them upstairs.

Patrick was in seventh heaven as he walked around the shop. He had spent the last three quarters of an hour getting a make over and trying out various cosmetics.

He had sat around the office for awhile after he and Susan had got back from the restaurant. Hank was really too busy to pay much attention to him, but Patrick wasn't annoyed. At least he was close to the man he loved.

After an hour, Hank had suggested Patrick should do a little shopping or something. It'd be much better than hanging around a boring office waiting for him to finish work. Hank gave Patrick a hundred dollars as spending money and told him to get something nice.

Patrick didn't need the money at all, but as far as Hank knew he was an unemployed girl come to the city to look for a job. He made a show of trying to refuse the money before accepting it. He made Hank promise to come around to his apartment as soon as he finished work. Hank only agreed when he was convinced that 'Becky' would be there alone.

Patrick had no problem about taking Hank's money. After all, a husband was supposed to support his wife. Wife. He rolled the word around his mind as he collected his purchases and set off for the clothing section of the store. He was going to be Hank's wife!

He spent nearly all of Hank's money on a bottle of perfume with a French name. He still had a few hours to kill before Hank finished work. What better way to spend that time, he thought, than in shopping for clothes. A woman couldn't have too many clothes, and the ones they had here were so sexy it made his body tingle. Being a woman was such fun!

Quite a while later, Patrick had trouble holding on to all of his purchases as he made his way to his car. He tripped and almost went flying. Wearing high-heels took a lot of effort and he wasn't nearly good enough in them yet. He loaded his new clothes and cosmetics into the back of his car and gratefully settled into the driving seat. His legs ached due to his shoes. How did women put up with those things? Well, he'd just have to work at it until he got it right. The idea of not wearing high-heeled shoes simply did not occur to him.

He hadn't mastered the art of driving in them yet either, so he removed them before he headed back to his apartment. It was nearly 4.00 PM before he finally made it home. It was still a couple of hour before Hank would finish work. Still, he could use that time to get ready.

Patrick could tell something was wrong the second he opened the door of his apartment. He stood still for a moment, straining to hear any noise that might be coming from his apartment. "Who's there?" he called.

Amanda stepped into the entrance hall and headed over to him. "I let myself in."

Patrick gave a relieved smile. "I though I was being robbed for a moment." He dropped his purchases off in his bedroom and then headed back to the main room.

"We need to talk," His ex-girlfriend said.

"No, we don't." Patrick replied. "I suppose Abigail told you of what I was planning?"

Amanda nodded, "And I think I was more shocked than her. The Patrick I knew would never do this, would be horrified even to contemplate it."

"Maybe," Patrick said, "but I'm not Patrick anymore. I'm Rebecca! Hank's girlfriend. Before too long I'll be his wife!"

"Patrick, that is not you talking! You've had an extreme shock and this is your mind trying to compensate. You need help."

"I'm not mad!" Patrick replied hotly. "I know exactly what I'm doing!"

"I'm not saying you're mad," Amanda replied, already in danger of losing her temper. "You'll thank us for this later."

Patrick stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Us?" He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Abigail emerge from the kitchen.

"I'm not happy about doing this either," she said, "but there is no other way. Ian, secure the door."

Yet another figure emerged from the kitchen and started edging around the three women.

Now Patrick was angry. "What right did you have to tell Ian?!"

"He worked it out for himself," Abigail replied. "Go on Ian."

Ian gave Patrick a wide berth and then headed down to the front door.

Patrick folded his arms under his breasts and glared at the two other women. "So what now?"

"Now we keep you here until past midnight." Abigail replied. "Then we perform the ritual and break the curse."

Patrick took a step back. "No! You can't do this! What right do you have to break up this wonderful thing me and Hank have?!" He stabbed a finger at Amanda. "You're just jealous. You're only doing this because I jilted you for Hank!"

"Dear God," Amanda exclaimed. "He's even more egotistical than when he was a man. Let's get him into the bedroom."

Amanda and Abigail moved forward as one and grabbed an arm each. Together they started to pull Patrick towards his bedroom. He wasn't going quietly and was fighting them every step of the way.

"Come on Ian!" Amanda called, "Give us a hand."

Ian had been standing dumbly watching the fight unfold. He was still trying to digest the story he had been told. He was glad at least that Patrick had confirmed the story was true in the way he had acted towards Abigail and Amanda.

He moved towards Patrick and tried to work out where he could hold him and cause the least embarrassment to either of them. It was really disturbing him how much Patrick's new form was attractive to him. His boss really did make a very sexy woman.

Ian waited until he was sure he wouldn't get kicked and then grabbed Patrick's legs. Ian's boss struggled and cursed, but the three working together could just hold him.

"What do we do with him?" Ian asked as he held on to Patrick's shapely legs desperately. His head was pressed against Patrick's stomach and he tried to ignore how close he was to his boss's feminine crotch.

"Into his bedroom," Amanda replied.

They manhandled Patrick into his own bedroom. While Amanda and Ian held him down on the bed Abigail gathered a few of the belts from the large pile of female clothes he had bought.

The belts made good straps and they soon had his hands and feet tied around the legs of the bed. Patrick was stuck spread-eagled and was unable to move.

He glared up at his captors, "When I get out of this I'm going to fucking kill every last one of you!"

"Well," remarked Amanda, "at least some of the old Patrick is still in there. You keep quiet or we'll gag you."

"I really am sorry about all this, Patrick." Abigail told him. "I wish it hadn't come to this, but you will thank us for this later."

Patrick just glared angrily at her.

She looked away, "Yes, well. Amanda, you and I need to start preparing for the ritual. You need to be word perfect when we do it for real." She turned to Ian, "You stay here and keep an eye on Patrick."

"Me?" Ian said worriedly.

"There's no-one else who can. Amanda and I are going to be busy. You'll be okay."

The two women headed back to the main room to prepare for the ritual. Ian avoided Patrick's gaze and sat down in a chair.

Ian was beginning to regret ever getting involved over the mystery of Patrick's transformation. It was far too late to back out now. Anyway, overbearing boss that Patrick was, Ian couldn't just walk away and leave him as a lovesick bimbo. He looked up to see Patrick struggling on the bed.

"Ian?" his transformed boss said. "If you don't release me, NOW, you're fired. Do you understand that? Fired!"

"Patrick, please relax. It'll be over soon." Ian said, trying to be reassuring. He knew that if Patrick's mind didn't return to normal after the curse was lifted he'd lose his job. This was just getting worse and worse.

Patrick looked at him, "But I don't want it to be over. I'm a sexy girl. Do you have any idea how this body feels. Not just on the outside, but on the inside. Nothing else comes close."

Ian looked down at Patrick stretched out on the bed. It was a fantastic body, he had to admit. In any other situation he'd be trying to get to know the girl a lot better.

He watched, spellbound, as Patrick continued to struggle against his bonds. His eyes drank in Patrick's shapely body, from the breasts that rolled and moved under the revealing dress, down to the long, shapely legs struggling to break free. The movements grew less frantic and more sensuous, almost as if Patrick was enjoying it.

Ian looked up to see Patrick smiling broadly at him. With great relish, Patrick breathed the words "take me."

Ian jumped as if he had been stung and retreated over to the window. His face reddened with embarrassment as he heard Patrick laugh softly. He was almost painfully aware of the erection in his pants. He wanted that woman so badly, but 'she' was Patrick, his boss!

"I wouldn't worry about it, Ian." Patrick said with an amused tone in his voice. "It's perfectly natural for a body like mine to get you all hot and hard."

"It's not natural at all!" Ian retorted.

"Perhaps, but I can tell how much you want me. It's written all over your face."

"Shut up!" Ian turned to look out of the window. He checked his watch. It was still more than seven hours to midnight and he was mentally exhausted already.

Patrick said nothing more. After several minutes Ian had enough courage to turn around and face Patrick again. He was surprised to see that Patrick had fallen asleep. How could he fall asleep under conditions like that? Probably didn't get much rest the previous night, when he was with Hank, Ian thought.

Ian shook his head and sighed. He still couldn't believe it. Hank obviously couldn't tell the difference. Ian wondered if he could. If he had been making love to a magically transformed man, would he have been able to tell if, behind the bountiful breasts and soft skin, lived the soul of a man?

No wonder Patrick had gone nuts. Ian doubted he would deal with it better if he woke with feminine lips between his legs instead of his manhood. Or if his chest suddenly held two sensuous globes. His erection was uncomfortably tight in his pants and his mouth was dry.

He stared at Patrick for several long minutes. Finally, he came to a decision and he moved his chair closer to the bed. Being very careful not to wake Patrick, Ian leaned over and breathed in the scent of the sleeping woman.

Ian shivered uncontrollably. Even the smell cried out with sex appeal. He looked up at the door to check no-one was there. Then he carefully held his hand barely above one of Patrick's breasts. He was so close to it that he imagined he could feel Patrick's body heat.

He looked up at Patrick's face, and almost died of fright when he saw his boss's eyes were open.

Patrick smiled and whispered "It's alright. Go ahead."

Ian wavered for a moment before giving in to his desires. Slowly, he brought his hand down to cup Patrick's soft flesh. Patrick groaned sensuously as Ian caressed him. Ian could feel Patrick's aroused nipple pushing into his palm.

His confidence grew, and he started to massage Patrick's breast. At that moment he wanted to have Patrick more than any other woman he had ever been with. His boss might once have been a man, but now he was the embodiment of feminine sensuality.

He slipped his hand inside Patrick's dress to get better access. Patrick hadn't bothered with a bra that morning, preferring to let his breasts swing free. Patrick's skin was so smooth and unblemished it only made Ian want him more

"Ohh, that feels so good," Patrick said dreamily.

Ian looked up at Patrick's face. There was no hint of masculinity in that face. Nothing that could point to Patrick's formally male status. Slowly he leaned over and their lips met.

Ian felt as if he had gotten an electric shock from Patrick and the kiss rapidly grew more passionate. Patrick's lips opened, inviting Ian's tongue into his mouth. By now Ian was leaning over Patrick and his erection was pressing into the transformed man under him.

Finally they broke for air. Patrick looked at the aroused man on top of him, he was keenly aware of how far Ian had fallen under his spell. "Could you undo my right hand, my love." he asked.

"I shouldn't," Ian said, but without any force.

"I won't be going anywhere while you're with me, will I?"

Ian caught the double meaning and swallowed. "I suppose it can't hurt." He reached up and quickly undid the belt holding Patrick's right hand.

Patrick's free hand ran softly down the side of Ian's face, and then headed downwards. It eagerly grabbed at the hard lump in Ian's jeans.

Ian needed no further encouragement and undid his own belt. He was shaking now and beyond much rational thought. This beautiful creature, that used to be a man, but was now a woman, wanted him!

Patrick was rougher now, more urgent, pulling Ian's jeans open and down. His shorts quickly followed.

Patrick's eyes widened with lust as he saw Ian's penis, erect in all its glory. "Closer, closer." he urged.

Ian kneeled over Patrick the best he could with his jeans and pants round his ankles and edged forward. Patrick pulled him closer still. It was all Ian could do to stop himself from reaching orgasm when Patrick's hot, velvet-soft mouth closed on his hot and hard length.

Patrick's hand gripped Ian's ass and his nails dug in, but the young man was past caring. The hand controlled the speed of thrusting and only removed itself when Ian had settled into the rhythm Patrick wanted.

Ian had to lean forwards to allow his penis easy access to Patrick's eager mouth. He was gripping on to the backboard of the bed and trying to retain enough self-control to avoid crying out. The fact that there were two women in the next room who must not find out what he was doing only heightened his excitement.

He felt himself building to the inevitable explosion and he did his best to keep it at bay for as long as possible. Patrick's tongue flicked over the head of his penis and he lost the battle against his orgasm. He gave a strangled, quiet cry and pumped his seed into Patrick's mouth.

Then, just as he was recovering, he was suddenly thrown backwards and off the bed, slamming his head into a wardrobe as he hit the floor. He gave a cry of pain and confusion. He put his hand to his throbbing head and tried to work out what had happened.

Patrick was sitting upright on the bed working feverishly at the two belts restraining his legs. He must have freed his other hand when he was sucking me off, Ian realized.

"Sorry," Patrick told him as he worked, "you're very cute and I really didn't want to do that."

He tried to struggle to his feet, but Patrick was free. Ian could only watch as Patrick wiped some cum from the side of his mouth, and then grabbed his handbag.

"Ian?" came Abigail's voice from the hallway. "What's going on."

Patrick wasted no time leaping from the room and running to the front door. From the confused yelling and cursing it was obvious to Ian that Patrick had made a clean getaway.

Some moments later, Amanda prowled into the bedroom looking very angry. "What the hell hap--?" she started before she saw Ian collapsed on the floor.

Ian finally managed to struggle to his feet. It was only then that he remembered his jeans were around his ankles. He quickly tried to pull them up as Amanda, now joined by Abigail, could only stare on in disbelief.

"You sick bastard!" Amanda exclaimed. "What the hell were you thinking! That was Patrick!"

Ian tried to think of something to say and failed.

Amanda hadn't finished yet. "I just can't believe this! Did you like doing it with a man? Perhaps you should be a woman like him. In fact, I wish mmfff!"

Abigail held her hand tightly over Amanda's mouth. "Let's not risk creating another problem, okay?"

Amanda nodded slowly and Abigail took her hand away. She thought about continuing her tirade against Ian's stupidity, but decided to storm out instead. "Men! Absolutely nothing but trouble!" she said angrily as she left. Abigail hurried after her.

Ian turned and looked down at the bed and tried to sort out his emotions. He had known all the time that it was Patrick, but it hadn't seemed to bother him.

Patrick was laughing as he drove away. That had been a very close call, but nothing would stop him being the woman he undoubtedly was. He felt bad about what had happened with Ian for two reasons. The first was that he had cheated on Hank, his future husband. The second reason was that Ian was a really cute guy. Patrick thought that if it wasn't for Hank he'd could really go for him.

As soon as he felt he was far enough away from home to be safe he stopped and pulled out his mobile phone. "Hank? It's me, Becky. Slight change of plans. I'll meet you at your place."

It's Hard to be a Man Part Ten

by

Stephanie

Patrick lazed in the bed and listened to Hank working in the kitchen. He felt a little guilty at letting Hank fix his food; it was supposed to be the woman who cooked for the man. Well, he was still being 'wooed' by Hank, so he didn't mind him doing these little extras for now. When they were married it would be a different story.

All in all, it had been a perfect weekend. On Friday night they had hit the clubs and had a riotous time. He had basked in the admiring glances from men and in the envious looks from other women. He was so lucky to be such a beautiful girl. They had only stayed until an hour or so past midnight. Patrick and Hank had been very eager to get back into bed with each other.

Hank's apartment was quite different to Patrick's. It was about the same size, but in a less expensive part of town. Hank was as untidy as most single men. The only two really expensive items in the place were the hideously complicated home theatre system and a large double bed.

The next day, a Saturday, had seen them taking a very long time to get up. In the afternoon they had hit The Blackmount Amusement Park. Hank had even won a large cuddly toy for him.

Then it was back home and more rampant lovemaking. He could still feel Hank's powerful hands digging into his breasts from when they had had sex doggie style. He thought back to when they had just been two men who went out girl hunting together a lot. He found it difficult to remember when he had just been Hank's male colleague, instead of his female lover.

Patrick felt a strange twinge of disquiet when he saw Hank walking back naked, carrying their breakfast. He couldn't work out what was worrying him. The sensation quickly passed and he forgot about it. He sat up, exposing his breasts. That hardly mattered now after the intimacy they had shared. "I can't eat all that!" he remarked when he saw the bacon and eggs Hank had cooked.

"Course you can," Hank replied. "Anyway, we've probably sweated off several pounds the last couple of days. We need to keep our energy up."

"Quite, it'd be a disaster if we couldn't get it up."

"With you around, I doubt that'll ever be a real problem."

Patrick was surprisingly hungry and he started on the large breakfast.

"Come on, Ian, open up. I can sense you're in there!" Abigail listened intently. She thought she had heard movement inside Ian's apartment, but she could not be sure.

"It's alright, I don't blame you for what happened." She was starting to feel foolish shouting through the door. She had got some odd looks from some of the other inhabitants of the building.

Ian had disappeared shortly after the debacle two days before. Abigail hadn't been able to contact or see him since, and she was getting worried about him.

She was about to give up and leave when she heard the door being unlocked. Ian opened the door a crack, and looked out nervously. It was obvious that he hadn't been getting much sleep. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah, Amanda doesn't even know I've come here."

Ian let her inside and then closed the door. "Do you...um...want something to drink?"

"Do you have any coffee?"

"Yeah, sure."

Ian didn't talk as he made Abigail her coffee. Abigail had been as surprised as Amanda when she had found out that Ian had made love with Patrick. It hadn't occurred to her that anything like that could happen. Obviously, Ian was having a hard time understanding it as well.

"I was wondering why I hadn't seen you back at my shop the last few days," Abigail said. "We need to plan for our next attempt."

"You're joking, aren't you? Do you think I can face Amanda or Patrick again after what happened? God alone knows how I'll cope with work tomorrow. I don't know what'll be worse, facing Patrick as a man or as a woman."

Abigail sighed. "You have to stop hurting yourself over this. Just put it behind you and carry on."

"I can't do that. How can I forget how I fucked a man! I'm not queer!"

"Patrick has a very sexy, female form and the mindset of a sex kitten. You saw a sexy girl who wanted you. Even though you knew 'she' was really a man it was impossible to stop yourself reacting to 'her'."

Ian was silent for a few moments. "Perhaps, but I should have been able to stop myself."

"Perhaps you were suffering from your own type of shock. Will you come back and help us? We can't leave Patrick like that, can we?"

Ian thought about the sexy curves Patrick's female body had. "No, you're right. Is Amanda okay about me coming back?"

"She's okay about it. She has quite a temper at times, but she's had more than enough time to calm down."

"Okay, I'll probably feel better doing something than just sitting around here."

"Great!" Abigail replied brightly. Now all I have to do, she thought to herself, is convince Amanda not to strangle Ian on sight.

Amanda's anger hadn't died away, despite what Abigail had said. She still held a level of resentment against Ian for what had happened. Abigail was sure she could talk her round, though.

Ian's heart was racing as he went into the office the following Monday morning. Despite Abigail's reassurances, he still felt bewildered and humiliated by the 'incident' with Patrick.

He was relieved to see no sign of his boss in either a male or female form. He was slightly late and everyone else was in. Susan was up by the coffee machine and she headed over to him as he arrived.

"What happened to you on Friday?" she asked.

After all that had happened he had forgotten he hadn't gone back to the office on Friday afternoon. "Ummm...I wasn't feeling that well."

"I thought that was the problem. I told Hank that was probably what had happened."

"Damn, I forgot to call in."

"Don't worry about it," Susan told him, "Hank's got a bigger problem. Patrick hasn't turned up to work again. Apparently, he hasn't seen him since Thursday."

Ian decided against pointing out that Hank had probably been seeing him all weekend. To his embarrassment, Ian realized he was more than slightly jealous of Hank.

He moved over to his desk. Inside Patrick's office, Hank was on the phone. He put it down and then walked back into the main office. "Good to see you're back, Ian." Hank said. "With Patrick missing we'll need everyone we've got."

"Still not answering his phone?" Susan asked.

"I just keep getting his answerphone," Hank replied. "This just isn't like him. He acts all weird last week and then he disappears."

Throughout the morning Ian attacked his work with a vengeance. It helped him keep his mind off of what he and Patrick had done. At the same time, Hank was more and more distracted.

Patrick was addicted to work and his career. He simply wouldn't take two days off of work without at least telling someone. Hank had not seen his friend all weekend either. He hadn't minded at the time because he was busy with Becky, but it was very strange not to have heard or seen anything of his friend in four days.

Hank got two calls during the morning, but they were both from Becky. She was off shopping again. Hank wondered how much of his money she had gotten through that morning. Never mind, she more than made up for that in bed. At least she hadn't insisted on spending the morning at work with him again.

By lunchtime, Hank finally decided he had to go to Patrick's apartment and see if anything was wrong. The traffic was unusually light and he was able to get there in good time.

He knocked loudly on the door of Patrick's apartment. Hank didn't wait very long. If Patrick could answer the phone he would have done so long before. He reached down and tried the handle.

To his surprise the door was unlocked. Hank pushed open the door and walked cautiously inside. He quickly scouted around the apartment. Nothing seemed out-of-place or missing. So there hadn't been a robbery or something like that. As he was walking back to the front door Hank heard a noise in Patrick's bedroom.

Cautiously, he opened up the door and looked inside. This room was in a mess; Patrick's clothes were covering the entire floor.

"Oh, hiya!" said a familiar voice from the bed.

"Becky?" Hank said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I am supposed to be living here until I get a place of my own, remember?"

Hank finally noticed that the clothes she was wearing didn't fit her. "What are you doing?"

"Just playing," 'Becky' replied.

Patrick had done some more shopping since leaving Hank's apartment that morning. After awhile even that had started to get boring, so he had headed back to his own apartment.

There he had started his own private fashion show with all the female clothes he had bought in the previous few days. When he had got bored of that he had wandered over to the wardrobe holding all his male clothes. They seemed odd and unusual to him now. Just days before he would not have considered wearing anything else.

He leaned into the wardrobe and breathed in the masculine scent emanating from the clothes. Patrick felt his nipples erect and a now familiar longing start to build in his loins. He couldn't help smiling at the thought that the scent of his old body was turning his new one on.

Patrick had quickly dressed in a pair of boxer shorts socks and a shirt and suit. The clothes didn't fit him at all and he couldn't do all the buttons up on his shirt. There was a way he could make the suit fit perfectly, but there was no way he'd ever turn himself back into a man. It wasn't long before he was on his back on his bed, slowly masturbating himself. He was so lost in the sensations that he wasn't aware Hank had arrived until the bedroom door opened.

He could see the slightly confused look on Hank's face. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Just playing," Patrick repeated with a smile, "with myself."

"Have you seen Patrick today? He hasn't turned up at work."

"Nope," Patrick replied. The hand inside his pants continued to work slowly at his excited clitoris. "I haven't seen him in ages. Don't really care if I never see him again. Now come here; my hand is getting tired."

"Rebecca, now isn't the time," Hank said; though he was sorely tempted. "Could you phone around your family and find out if they know anything?"

Patrick gave a small, annoyed sigh and sat up. He didn't want to be reminded of his hateful male self, with its flat, hairy body. He was beginning to regret wearing his old clothes. "I'm Patrick," he announced, "your boss, and I'm ordering you to get over here and fuck me."

"Becky, I don't have time for games. I have to get back to work. Didn't you get enough over the weekend?"

"I can never get enough," Patrick whispered in a voice full of desire. "I have an unquenchable fire inside of me and it's burning for you right now. It's making me feel so hot and tingly."

Patrick could almost see the thoughts running through Hank's mind. Hank was weighing up the pros and cons of making love to him right there and then. Patrick decided to give one little shove to win the argument.

He dropped to his knees and opened the flies of Hank's pants. Hank was already getting hard, so getting his hot length out took a little careful effort. Patrick hungrily sucked the tip into his mouth. He had never sucked Hank to orgasm and he was eager to rectify that.

The last part of Hank's minimal resistance melted away as Patrick worked hungrily on his cock. Patrick massaged Hank's testicles through his pants as he milked him. His tongue rasped over the sensitive head of Hank's penis.

Hank reached down and grabbed a handful of Patrick's long hair. He had to admit she was very good at blow jobs. She seemed to know exactly how to cause the maximum amount of pleasure. He groaned deeply and started to pump his seed into Patrick mouth.

Patrick swallowed as much of the salty cum as he could. Only when Hank had completely softened and shrunk did he let the penis pull out of his mouth.

Patrick stood up. His own needs were as yet unsatisfied and sucking Hank off had only made him hornier. He started undoing Hank's shirt, but his lover stopped him. "I have to get back to work," Hank explained apologetically. "With Patrick missing we've fallen behind schedule."

"Please stay," Patrick pleaded, "You make me feel so good!"

"I wish I could, baby. You promise to phone around your family and see if Patrick has turned up or left a message?"

"Okay," Patrick agreed reluctantly, "but--"

"No arguments. You've got a bit on your chin."

"Eh?" Patrick reached up and felt a trail of cum that had escaped from the side of his mouth.

Hank reached over and kissed Patrick on the cheek. "I'll call you later. I better get back now." He turned and headed to the front door. "Let me know if you find out anything."

Patrick watched, still highly turned on, as Hank left. It was frustrating to be left unfulfilled like that, but at least Patrick had managed to satisfy his man.

He walked back to the bed and flopped back on to it. He had no intention of calling around his family. They had no idea what was going on anyway, of course. He'd be able to quiet Hank's worries for now, but at some point he was going to have to turn himself back into a man so he could resign his job and move away.

Then with 'Patrick' out of the way he could settle down to life with Hank as 'Becky'. The idea of wearing his old body again repulsed him and he decided he could put that off for a few days at least. He felt uncomfortable wearing his old male clothes now. Why had he put them on in the first place?

He quickly undressed and went back to the spare bedroom to continue the search for a suitable outfit to wear for Hank that evening.

"So he explained how embarrassed he was by the whole event and I told him how we didn't blame him for it." Abigail stressed the word 'we' and hoped that Amanda got the hint. The glare she got from Amanda told her that the hint had been received.

"Yes..." Amanda added, less than convincingly, "we have to put this incident behind us and move on."

"Thanks," Ian added quietly. It wasn't Amanda's anger that distressed him the most, it was having to face up to having slept with a man, albeit a transformed one, to Amanda and Abigail. "So, when can we try again."

"The next holy day for Amanda's tribe is weeks away," Abigail replied.

"We can't wait that long!" Amanda cried. "Look what he's like after just one week!"

"This would be a lot easier if he was actually co-operating with us instead of wandering around thinking he's a dumb blonde." Abigail added.

"W-we have to get her away from Hank." Ian said.

Abigail noticed the use of the feminine pronoun but decided it best to ignore Ian's slip. "He's right. Patrick entered this state after having sex as a woman for the first time. What we need is another 'shock' of some sort that will bring him out of it."

"I have an idea," Amanda announced. "To get this right, timing is going to be essential. It's too late to put in operation tonight; Patrick is probably already with Hank now. Tomorrow then, we have to be ready. We'll probably only have one shot at this"

"What do you think of this one?" Patrick asked excitedly.

Hank suppressed a groan of annoyance and looked at the book Patrick was holding up. It was a picture of a traditional white wedding gown. She would look good in that, Hank admitted to himself, but she couldn't seriously be thinking about marriage already? He had only known her for a week. Anyway, he always broke out in a sweat at the thought of spending the rest of his life with just one woman. "Don't you think it's a little early to start looking at things like that."

"Not at all," Patrick replied happily. "A girl can dream, can't she? Anyway, you'll make an honest woman of me one day, won't you?"

"I doubt anyone could do that," Hank replied with a smile.

Patrick moved closer and laid his head on Hank's chest. Hank absentmindedly stroked Patrick's long hair. She is great in bed, he thought, but does she have to be around me all the time? It was getting a little wearing spending all his free time with her, even despite the great sex they had. With a little luck, she would step back a little in time.

Hank thought that when Patrick returned his relationship with Becky would tail off anyway. He remembered how Patrick had made it crystal clear he should stay away from Rebecca. Good as Becky was, it wasn't worth risking his job over her.

There were three places that Patrick could show up at. Amanda, Abigail and Ian decided who would be where to wait for him. Amanda would wait outside Patrick's apartment, Abigail would stake out Hank's apartment. Ian had little choice; he had to be at work where he could not only keep an eye on Hank, but also wait for Patrick to show up.

Ian was even more afraid than he had been the day before. He tried to calm himself. He had to be ready if and when Patrick showed up.

Hank was less distracted that day than he had been previously. Apparently, 'Rebecca' had told him that Patrick was out of town dealing with the funeral of a distant cousin. They were very busy again and Hank warned the team that they'd probably have to work late into the night. They had fallen behind schedule again. Ian thought it was going to be nearly impossible to finish the project on time without Patrick.

It was gone 7.00pm before Abigail called Ian on his mobile. "Patrick has just arrived back at Hank's place. He had a couple of bags of groceries with him. Looks like he's cooking dinner."

"This is too weird," Ian muttered to himself. "So what's the plan now?"

"It's just what we agreed. Amanda is on her way over to your office right now. You shouldn't need to do anything more."

"I still don't think it'll work."

"Listen," Abigail said with a little laugh. "You might be a man, but you don't understand them as well as Amanda does. She knows what buttons to press."

Ian kept as close a watch on the window as possible without alerting Susan or the others. He was relieved to see Amanda's car pulling into the car park fifteen minutes after the phone call. Her plan had seemed insane when she had explained it the previous evening. It contained far too many ifs and maybes to work.

Shortly after, Amanda appeared at the office door. Hank looked up questioningly; he knew Patrick and Amanda had split up the previous week. "Hi," he said uncertainly, "what's up?"

Amanda looked on the verge of tears, "I need to talk to you. Now."

"Well...okay. We can use Patrick's office."

Together they went inside and Hank shut the door behind him. Then he ran down the blinds to give them complete privacy.

"What's that all about?" Susan remarked.

Ian shrugged, "Haven't a clue."

Abigail was getting cold. She had been sitting in her car for hours and the temperature had really started to drop since night had fallen. She was beginning to have trouble staying awake. She had no idea stakeouts were so boring.

Seeing Patrick leave the building and head towards his own car snapped her awake. Where was he going now? Hank. He had to be going to Hank at work.

Abigail tried to start her car, but it wouldn't go. She cursed as she saw Patrick pull out and drive away. She wrestled with the car for another two minutes before it finally spluttered into life. Already it was too late to catch up with Patrick and intercept him. She got out her mobile phone and punched in Ian's number. He was the only one who could stop Patrick discovering Amanda and Hank together before anything had happened between them.

It's Hard to be a Man Part Eleven

by

Stephanie

"You're going to have to stall Patrick," Abigail said over the phone. "I won't be able to get there before he does."

"B-but what do I do?" Ian replied fearfully.

"Just talk about anything. Just keep him occupied for as long as possible. I'll give the signal to Amanda. With luck she can get out in time without meeting Patrick or alerting Hank. Now move!"

Ian headed as quickly as he could down to reception. His heart was racing. What was he going to say to Patrick? He was the last person on Earth Ian wanted to talk to. It meant having to face up to having had sex with a man.

The minutes passed slowly and Ian was beginning to hope that Abigail had got it wrong and Patrick had gone somewhere else. That hope was dashed when he saw Patrick's car pull past reception and into the car park.

Ian tried to act casual as his boss walked into reception. He had to keep Patrick from realizing what he was doing. Despite himself, his mouth dropped open when he saw what Patrick had on.

His boss was wearing a short, and rather tight, black mini-skirt, a revealing blouse and a dark jacket. He also had several rings and bracelets on. The effect was topped with make-up and clip-on earrings. Patrick turned to look at Ian. "Hiya," he said brightly.

"Uh...hi," Ian managed to reply.

"Are you okay? You're looking an odd color."

"S-sorry, I was just thinking about what happened last time we met." Idiot! he berated himself, couldn't you find something else to talk about?

"It's disturbing you, isn't it?" Patrick asked softly.

"Well, yeah, obviously. I mean you're a man after all."

Patrick shook his head. "Not anymore. I'm a woman now and I always will be. Anyway, Hank doesn't have a problem with my body."

"Of course he doesn't! He doesn't know you're Patrick!"

Pretending not to notice what he was doing, Patrick brushed back the jacket, revealing the curve of his breast through his blouse. He was amused to see Ian's eyes flick over his curves. Men were so easy to control. "Look, Ian. I'm a woman, a very sexy one in fact, and I turned you on so much you lost control. It's hardly your fault. It's a pity I'm with Hank; you're not bad looking yourself." Patrick moved closer and was amused to see Ian stumble backwards. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Unless you want me to." He turned and walked over to the elevator.

It took Ian several seconds to recover and remember what he was supposed to be doing. He barely had time to catch up with Patrick before the elevator doors closed on him. "You... you shouldn't deceive Hank like this. It isn't right."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not deceiving him. I'm exactly who I appear to be. Anyway, what are you going to do about it? Tell Hank?"

Ian was silent. Of course he couldn't tell Hank. He'd never be believed.

They arrived on the fourth floor and Patrick set off as fast as he could on his high heels towards his office.

Inside Patrick's office Hank was trying to work out how to comfort Amanda. Out of nowhere Patrick's ex-girlfriend had appeared in some distress. "I just don't understand what happened," she said once Hank had taken her into Patrick's office. "He changed in some way and then he dumped me!"

"Well, he was acting a little odd last week, but I didn't see anything really wrong with him."

Amanda shifted closer towards him. "You've never been...intimate with him as I have. I know him better than you do. I've never known anyone who could satisfy me the way he does. I don't know what I'll do if I can't get him back." She knew her approach was as subtle as a smack in the face with a baseball bat, but it seemed to be having the right effect on Hank. He only saw a sexy woman making advances, perhaps unconsciously, on him. If Hank was anything like Patrick used to be, then he wouldn't pass up this opportunity. The trick would be getting out of there without raising his suspicions before it went too far. If she managed that then she could set Hank up in some public spot like a bar or restaurant and then get Patrick to discover them.

They talked some more. It was obvious to Amanda that Hank was trying to find out if she was available or not. He probably thinks he is being subtle about it, she thought disdainfully.

Her mobile phone rang twice inside her handbag and then stopped. Amanda pretended to ignore it, but she knew what that signal meant. It meant Patrick was on his way here and she had to leave now. She looked again at the desire on Hank's face. Maybe she could play this to her advantage.

She shifted closer still to Hank and laid her hand on his arm. "Perhaps it was for the best that Patrick left me. I've admired you since I first saw you."

Through the door of the office she heard a familiar female voice ask. "Is Hank around?" Patrick was here.

Hank's eyes widened in alarm, but before he could do anything Amanda had thrown an arm around him and kissed him full on the lips. She heard the door open before Hank could do anything.

There followed an uncomfortable silence.

Finally, Hank recovered enough sense to push Amanda away. "I can explain, Rebecca! This isn't what it looks like."

"Bastard!" Thundered a decidedly male voice behind Amanda. She looked up to see Hank's shocked face just seconds before Patrick's fist hit it. Hank toppled backwards and thumped his head on the desk as he went down.

Amanda turned around to see a very angry, and very male, Patrick. His female clothes were stretched almost to breaking point by his larger, masculine form. He glared at Amanda and she worried a little for her own safety.

Then his body rippled and shrank as he regained his female form. Without waiting to straighten his clothes, Patrick fled from the room in some distress.

Susan watched Patrick leave and then went into the office. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

"Ah, it's a little complicated," Amanda replied wryly. "Give me a hand with Hank."

Together they hauled the disorientated man into a chair. As Susan went looking for the first-aid box, Hank tried to piece together what had happened. He had a confused memory of hearing Becky's voice and then seeing Patrick - in a skirt? - bearing down on him. He quickly dismissed the absurd vision and held his aching head.

Deciding that he'd be alright, Amanda slipped out of the office. She hurried out into the hallway and over to the elevator. She was glad that was over with. She had hated doing that as it made her feel a bit dirty. Never mind, it appeared to have had the desired effect. Only time would tell if it had truly worked, though.

Patrick had had to stop driving as he could no longer see the road through his tears. He had no clear idea where he was going anyway, so he pulled over to the side of the road to calm down.

How could Hank have been so stupid? They had been perfect together and now Hank had ruined it. All Patrick's plans of marriage and children were in tatters.

Marriage? What on Earth was he thinking of? Hank was a good friend, but he wouldn't marry him. In that case, a part of his mind remarked, why have you spent the last four days in bed with him?

Patrick's mind whirled in shock. He had done just that. He had made love as a woman and thoroughly enjoyed it! Just as he had feared, the man he had fallen in love with was Hank.

He remembered Abigail telling him that he was in shock from the first time he had had sex as a woman. At the time he had thought she had gone mad, as he had never felt better. Now, however, he could see the truth of what she had said. His male psyche had been unable to deal with what he had done, so it had simply shut down and been replaced by a female one.

If only Abigail had managed to stop him escaping his apartment on Friday and had succeeded in breaking the curse. Patrick's stomach gave another lurch as he remembered how he had escaped by giving Ian a blowjob and then breaking free.

He couldn't turn back into a man just yet; the clothes he had on were too obviously feminine. He calmed himself down, dried his eyes with a tissue, and started driving again. He would go back to his apartment and dress in his male clothes. Then he'd burn every piece of female clothing in the place.

Ian rode his motorbike the few streets to where Abigail and Amanda were waiting.

"Did Hank see Patrick turn male?" was Amanda's first question.

"I don't think so," Ian replied. "He seemed more worried about what Patrick would do when he found out. He wasn't too happy you'd disappeared either."

"Typical," Amanda remarked, "he wanted two women at once and now he's surprised he's lost both."

"The big question, though," Abigail pointed out, "is: Has this worked? Are we still dealing with 'Rebecca', or is Patrick back in charge?"

"I hope it worked," Ian said fervently, "I do not want to go through that again."

"You two get some rest," Abigail said. "You've done everything possible for one night. I'll go over to his apartment alone and see what sort of state he's in."

Amanda was a little reluctant at leaving at that point. She wanted to know if her plan had worked. Ian, however, was only too happy to get home and relax.

Abigail's car was still playing up a little, but it worked well enough to allow her to reach Patrick's apartment building. She knocked quietly at the door to his apartment and waited. She wished her own psychic powers were good enough to see if he was in there or not.

She knocked again and waited nervously. She was about to leave when she heard a movement behind the door. Then the door opened a crack and she was relieved to see Patrick's male face poking around it. He looked so forlorn that she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

Without saying a word, Patrick let her into the apartment. They looked at each other in silence for several long seconds. Finally Patrick spoke, "You three planned that, didn't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, "it was Amanda's idea, but we all went along with it. It was a desperate move, but we had to do something. I'm really sorry, Patrick."

He signed and slumped down in an armchair. "I don't think I've ever been so happy than I was this weekend. Everything was perfect. Or so it seemed at the time. Now I can't believe a quarter of the things I've done in the last few days. I was totally and completely in love with Hank. I would have done anything for him. Anything! I was even playing with the idea of getting pregnant! I thought that would bind us together forever. I probably wouldn't have seen him for dust if I had told him he was going to be a father." Patrick's hand flew to his belly. "You don't think I did get pregnant? We didn't use any protection!"

"It probably doesn't matter. You're a man right now and even if... something did happen... it probably disappeared when you turned male."

Patrick managed a weak smile, "That's probably a good thing. I don't think I'd make a good Mom." He was uncomfortably aware that a part of him was upset by the idea of a lost child.

"I really, truly, am sorry about all this," Abigail told him. "We will do everything we can to sort this out, but it is going to be a few weeks before we can perform the ceremony again."

"I'm stuck like this for several more weeks?" he asked despairingly. "I'd forgotten the strain it took just to stay male. I can feel the pressure already building within me."

"Perhaps you should take the next few weeks off work. Just until everything is sorted out."

"I can't do that! There's far too much to do."

"It can wait," she replied exasperated, "Your health is more important."

"Don't worry, Abigail. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, but I want you to call either me, Amanda or Ian if you need help."

"I will," he replied. He felt a little reticent at going for Amanda or Ian for help, but it wasn't like he'd have much choice. He would have to depend on these three considerably over the next few weeks. He hadn't needed to be supported like that since before he had gone to University and it hurt his male pride a little.

Abigail didn't want to leave Patrick alone, but he insisted. He said he had a lot of things to think through so she left him to it.

After she had left, Patrick returned to the main room and sat back in the chair. His emotions were a jumbled mess and nothing seemed certain anymore. His affair with Hank went against every fibre of his being and yet, it had felt good to be held in those powerful arms.

He winced as he remembered how he had tricked Ian into freeing him. He was a good few years younger than Patrick, but he was so cute. Patrick wished he could stop those odd little thoughts entering his head. He knew it wasn't a sign that he might snap back into sex-kitten mode, but it showed that his whole perception of the world had been permanently altered.

Soon, he was going to have to change into a woman again. Every second spent male meant he had to expend effort to stop himself changing sex. He was going to have to spend most evenings as a woman to give himself the mental energy to last the day at work as a man.

This was a battle he could win, he decided. All he had to do was hold back the female desires for the several weeks necessary. Then, when fully male again, the female desires would slowly disappear. A part of him didn't truly believe he had the stamina. The way he had so disastrously lost control before deeply worried him. The knowledge of what could happen if he slipped again only increased his determination to resist it.

He allowed his body to turn female again. He was relieved to find that his mind didn't change as well as his body. It looked like 'Becky' was gone for good. He just wished that his male body felt half as comfortable and familiar as this one did.

The office was filled with a tense atmosphere the next morning. Everyone was worried about something different, but it all led back to 'Becky'.

Hank was worried about what Becky might have said to Patrick. She had been a weird girl, but very good in bed. He still couldn't make any sense about what Amanda had been up to the previous evening. It was almost as if she had been trying to drive a wedge between himself and Becky, but why would she want to do that? He wondered if Amanda really was available. It would be best to leave that well alone as he was probably in enough trouble over Becky as it was.

Ian was terrified about meeting Patrick for the first time since his boss regained his senses. How would Patrick react to what he and Ian had done together?

Susan was wondering what the hell was going on with everyone and how it could affect her job.

Outside in the car park, Patrick was trying to calm himself down before heading up to the office. He had let his body become mostly female so he would be able to concentrate on driving. Now he had reached work, he gathered his will together and concentrated until his body turned fully male again. He adjusted his clothing and then headed inside the building and into the elevator.

He worried over meeting Hank again. How could their friendship survive the intimacy they had shared? Even if only one of them knew they had been intimate with the other.

"Hiya, Patrick!" Hank said smiling broadly as Patrick walked into the office. "I was sorry to hear about your cousin." Hank's eye was bruised and swollen.

Patrick remembered the cover story he had given as Becky to explain his disappearance. "It's okay, we weren't that close, but there was no-one else to deal with everything." He frowned at Hank's black eye. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, that," Hank said and laughed a little nervously. "I...uh... walked into a door."

Patrick couldn't help but smile at the lame excuse. "I hope she was worth it."

Hank relaxed a little. He assumed by Patrick's attitude that his friend and boss had no idea what had happened between him and Becky. "She was."

Patrick looked up at the rest of his staff. He saw Ian at the back looking nervous. "Right, we've got a lot to do, and no time to do it in. So I need one-hundred and ten percent effort from all of you today."

He headed into his inner office and sighed at the mountain of work. It had certainly built up while he had been playing the bimbo. He settled down behind his desk and relaxed his control on the lower half of his body.

Within a few seconds his hips widened as he felt a by now familiar pulling sensation in his crotch as he turned physically female. He squirmed in his chair to get comfortable and then turned to the reports.

Despite his attempts to concentrate on the files, he couldn't help but return to thinking about his condition. It was only natural that his female form would feel more comfortable than his male one as he had spent so much time in recent days as a woman.

As the hours passed his headache started to return with a vengeance. If only he could be a woman and keep his job, he thought to himself. Then he wouldn't feel so sick all the time. It was, of course, impossible as his female self did not officially exist, had no qualifications and had no job history.

Was being a woman so bad anyway? As long as he kept his own mind instead of becoming Becky again. Sex on the opposite side had been fantastic. Patrick looked through the glass partition at the rest of the office. He'd always see Hank, Ian and perhaps all men in a different way from now on. He could now see the beauty in men's bodies. He found himself scanning male bodies just as much as female ones. That was discomforting to him, and he hoped that his bisexuality would fade in time. Even if it did, he doubted it would be a door that would ever fully close.

By lunchtime, his headache was getting serious. He knew he'd need to take time-out and rest in his female form at Abigail's bookshop. Patrick would have preferred to have set an example to the rest of his staff and work though his lunch break, but he knew he'd never survive the day if he did.

Barely able to keep his body male, he headed down and out of the building and over to Abigail's shop. Patrick sensed someone following him and he turned to see Ian a few feet behind him.

Ian looked embarrassed, "I-I need to talk to you."

Patrick nodded. If anything, Ian was more disturbed about what had happened between them than Patrick was. "Okay, let's keep walking. I need to get to Abigail's for a break."

Ian clearly didn't want to say anything in public so they walked in silence the short distance to the New Age bookstore.

Abigail smiled as she saw Patrick enter. "How are you?"

"Splitting headache, but other than that, I'm okay." Patrick replied. He could see she was surprised Ian was with him. "Could I ask a favor?"

"Of course," Abigail replied.

"Ian and me need to talk in private and..."

"Say no more," Abigail interrupted. "Go on upstairs."

"Thanks, Abigail."

Abigail smiled at Ian as he passed her on his way upstairs. He smiled back nervously and then followed Patrick up the narrow stairs to Abigail's apartment.

Patrick slumped down in an armchair when he got there and undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Ian was about to ask Patrick why he was doing that when Patrick's body started to writhe and change.

Ian's jaw dropped open as he watched his boss' body turn female. He had never seen the change up close before. His eyes ran over the voluptuous woman's body enclosed in a male suit with a mixture of horror and lust. Despite himself, Patrick's feminine form was turning him on. He consciously avoided looking down Patrick's exposed cleavage. This only confirmed that the decision he had reached was the right one.

Patrick broke the silence, "So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked in, what seemed to Ian, a devastatingly sexy female voice.

"Well..." Ian started. "I can't get over what happened, and being around you and Hank every day only makes it worse. I've decided to resign. It'd be better for both of us if we didn't see each other."

"You don't need to do that," Patrick replied quietly. He could see how much pain Ian was in. "The last few days have been traumatic for all of us, but we can work it out. In time everything will get back to normal."

Ian's realized his gaze had slipped down to Patrick's barely concealed breasts again. He looked away and shuddered. "You don't understand. Part of me doesn't want anything to change; it wants you so much. That's why I have to back off." Patrick took in several long gasps to try to calm himself down. "I gotta go," he said abruptly before bolting for the stairs down to the shop.

"Ian, wait up!" Patrick called, but Ian didn't listen and was out the shop as fast as he could go.

Patrick walked over to the window and watched Ian run off. He could feel tears in the corners of his eyes, but couldn't quite work out why he felt so sad.

It's Hard to be a Man Part Twelve

by

Stephanie

Patrick stumbled into his apartment and shut the door behind him. He almost hadn't made it. Despite his best efforts he already had the breasts of a teenage girl.

Now that he was in the safety of his own home he could relax. He quickly undid the top few buttons of his shirt as his mammaries grew to fill it. He sighed and leant against the door as the rest of his body turned feminine.

Perhaps he had been a little over-confident in thinking he could last the several weeks until Amanda could perform the ritual that would break his curse. At least now he wouldn't have to stand it alone. He had Amanda, Abigail and Ian to help him now. He thought about Ian again and his heart lurched.

Why did Ian have to go and resign? Patrick had faced up to what had happened between them and he could live with it. Why couldn't Ian?

Patrick walked into the bathroom and stripped off his ill-fitting male clothes and pulled on a bathrobe. He pushed his long, blonde hair out of his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. Even after all that had happened he was still surprised to see a woman staring back at him.

A very attractive woman too, even if he did say so himself. That was part of Ian's problem. Patrick's female form was very attractive to him and the younger man simply didn't know how to deal with those feelings. Now he was going to run away rather than deal with them.

Patrick fixed himself a light meal and then headed to the spare bedroom. Inside was the large pile of female clothing he had bought. He had intended to burn the lot when he had regained his senses the previous day. When he sorted out the underwear he needed for his female form he realized he couldn't bring himself to get rid of the rest.

Most of the lingerie was designed more for appeal than functionality. He picked up a pink satin bra and rubbed the slippery fabric between his fingers. An idea formed. Ian needed to face his fears rather than run away from them, Patrick decided.

Ian looked through all the papers and magazines he had bought. There wasn't many jobs on offer in advertising and most that were there wanted far more experience than he had. As much as he hated the idea, he was going to have to get another, lower paid, job in some area he wasn't interested in and hope that something worthwhile turned up later.

He didn't want to leave his job - he had been happy there - but he really didn't have that much choice. The alternative was to work with Patrick and he couldn't face that. He remembered how Patrick had given him the blowjob of his life. The memory was so intense that he could almost feel Patrick's hot mouth working on him.

He felt a stirring in his pants from the memory and then felt disgusted with himself. This was a man he was fantasizing about! If only his boss had always been a woman. It was impossible to deny that, when he was a woman, Patrick had a great body.

This wasn't helping. He refocused on the paper in front of him. The sooner he could find a new job the better.

The doorbell rang and he looked up in annoyance. It was probably Abigail, again. She was only trying to help, but she seemed like she wanted to mother him too much at times.

He opened the door, looked up and froze. It wasn't Abigail. Patrick was standing there holding a six-pack in one hand.

Ian couldn't stop his gaze from rolling over Patrick. His boss was wearing a simple black dress. The dress ended long before it reached his knees and underneath Patrick was wearing some dark tights or stockings. She (he, Ian corrected himself) even had black shoes with three-inch spike heels on them.

"Are you going to invite me in?" Patrick asked sweetly.

Ian's gaze snapped to Patrick's face. She's wearing make-up, he thought. As far as Ian could tell, it had been applied reasonably well at least. Patrick even had gold clip on earrings and a matching necklace and bracelet.

What is she doing here? Ian thought in a panic and stepped backwards away from Patrick. His boss took that as an invitation and stepped into Ian's apartment, shutting the door behind him. "We need to talk."

"I-I've said all I've got to say. It'd be best if we didn't see each other."

"Nonsense," Patrick replied and sat down in an armchair. "We need to work things out. I'm not about to lose one of the best members of my team without a fight. Sit down."

Ian obeyed, finding a chair opposite Patrick. Unconsciously, his eyes ran up his boss' shapely legs and widened in shock when he realized that the way Patrick was sitting, he could see that it was stockings that the transformed man had on, and there was a pair of matching black panties to go with them.

Patrick saw Ian's eyes almost pop out of his head. He shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. "Sorry, I keep forgetting to do that when I have a skirt on."

"Why..." Ian started, but his throat was dry. He cleared it and started again, "Why are you dressed like that?"

"I have to spend my evenings female to have the strength to stay male at work, you know that."

"Did you need to wear... that a-and make-up and stuff."

"My father brought me up never to run away from stuff I feared, and that's exactly what you're doing now." Patrick pulled a can from the six-pack and opened it. "Have one yourself. Go on, it's low-alcohol, there's no way you can get drunk on this stuff."

Ian hesitated and then grabbed a can for himself. His hands were shaking so much, he had difficulty opening it.

"So," Patrick said suddenly, making Ian jump, "what exactly is the problem?"

"Huh?"

"What exactly is making you so frightened. Are you scared by the way I change? Do you think I'm some sort of freak or what?"

"No, no. You're not a freak."

"Well, that's something," Patrick replied with a smile that made Ian's heart melt. "So what is it? Tell me. After the last few days I doubt there's anything left that can surprise me."

"I love you," Ian's jaw clamped shut, but it was already out. The words seemed to reverberate around the room for what - to Ian - seemed like hours.

Ian's words seemed to echo in Patrick's head. Over the years women had said exactly the same thing to him time and again, but it wasn't the fact that it was being said by a man that so affected him. It was because, for the first time, he actually cared.

"I'm s-sorry," Ian said. "I didn't mean to say that," he laughed weakly. "You only just got out of a relationship with a man. You don't want to go through that again."

"Not the same," Patrick replied. "This is something totally different. And while you probably didn't mean to say it, you did mean it."

Ian tried to deny it, but his protests died in his throat. He did mean it, that was the problem. "Yeah, that might be true, but I feel really uncomfortable about this and I don't want to sleep with you."

Patrick raised an eyebrow in a look that clearly said he didn't believe Ian. "I came here to talk, not sleep with you," he added gently. "What got you interested in advertising?"

Ian was a little surprised at the mundane question, but moving the topic away from sex helped him to relax.

The hours passed as the conversation meandered around many different subjects. At one point they were arguing about football. Ian knew it was a bit sexist, but he still found it odd to be talking to a woman who knew far more about the sport than he did.

Patrick made a very intelligent, witty and beautiful woman. If only he truly was one. However, as the hours passed Ian found his fear of Patrick receding.

It was gone 2.00am when Patrick finally said he should be getting home. "So we can forget this nonsense about you quitting, then?" he asked as he opened the front door.

"Yeah. Thanks for coming over. I really did need to sort out my feelings about you."

"We've both had thoughts and feelings in the last week we would never have believed we'd have in a million years. Doesn't make them wrong though, does it?"

"No," Ian replied uncertainly. What exactly did Patrick mean by that?

"Seeya tomorrow," Patrick said brightly, "well later this morning, I mean."

"Yeah." Ian went back into his apartment and shut the door. Five hours before he had to be up for work, and he knew he wasn't going to get a minute's sleep.

"So you think you've talked him out of resigning?" Abigail asked Patrick.

Patrick tugged his pants, trying to make himself more comfortable. They were always uncomfortably tight when he had female hips. He settled down in Abigail's chair. He was on his lunchbreak and had made his way to Abigail's shop as usual. "Yeah, but it has affected him in a way I never thought possible."

"How so?"

"This goes no further, you understand?" Patrick warned.

"Cross my heart," Abigail said and then leaned closer, "now what has Ian done?"

"He said 'I love you'. I don't know who was more surprised, me or him."

Abigail nodded, "He always did look ill at ease when you were female. It's not that surprising, you make a good-looking woman."

"Thanks," Patrick replied absentmindedly.

Abigail smiled. Just a few days earlier Patrick would have flown into a rage at such a comment. "I can see that attraction isn't just one way."

Patrick started guiltily and looked up at Abigail. "It's that obvious?"

"Well, you don't seemed repulsed by the idea, do you?"

Patrick sighed, "Why am I attracted to him?"

"He's cute and very appealing in a vulnerable sort of way."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. I'm a man."

"Firstly, being a man is no reason not to be attracted to another man and, as I've pointed out before, you're not a man at the moment."

"Is that all this feeling is? Just hormones?"

"Perhaps," Abigail replied thoughtfully, "but maybe not. When you were 'Rebecca' and you were off with Hank, that was just hormones."

Patrick couldn't help mulling over the situation all afternoon as he tried to concentrate on his work. Was he truly attracted to Ian or was it just his female body playing tricks on him again?

"Patrick? Can I have a word?"

He looked up to see Ian nervous face poking around the door of his office. "Sure, come in." Patrick replied. Ian entered and shut the door behind him.

"You're not trying to quit again?" Patrick asked.

"No!" Ian replied with a nervous laugh, "Um...I just happen to have a reservation for two at The Green Room this evening and I was just wondered if...perhaps...you'd...um...like to go."

Patrick was amused by Ian's hesitantly, but he could feel his heart beating faster at the idea. "Just happened to have a reservation?" he asked.

"Yes, you don't have to if you don't want to," Ian added hurriedly.

"It's a good restaurant, I'd love to, Ian."

Ian beamed a great big smile of relief, "T-that's excellent! I'll...um...pick you up at eight, if that's okay?"

"Eight o'clock is fine. I'm looking forward to it."

Ian wandered out of the office with a big grin on his face, that he tried to hide when Susan frowned at him.

"Did you get a raise or something?" she asked him.

"Something like that," Ian replied.

She looked at him suspiciously and wondered why everyone had suddenly started acting so strange recently.

Back in his office, Patrick tried to concentrate on his work, but it was no good. As usual while he was at his desk he was only keeping his top half male. He could feel the dampness in his underpants and the longing in his groin. He knew he couldn't really deny the desires anymore and he started wondering if tonight would be 'the night'.

"Arbreth Llerven clath--"

"No, no, no." Abigail said interrupting Amanda. "It's cleth not clath. You have to be absolutely syllable perfect or you'll turn him into a chicken or worse."

"How can you be sure you know the correct pronunciation anyway?"

"Years of study and knowledge. Let's take a break. There's no point in getting too exhausted and I think you won't need to do this ritual after all."

"Why not?" Amanda asked suspiciously.

Abigail winced. "Ah... nothing."

"Abigail," Amanda asked slowly, "what's going on? Is there another way to stop Patrick turning into a woman?"

"No... the ritual is the only way I know."

"Then what did you mean?"

"I promised not to tell. It's probably not important anyway."

Amanda was starting to seethe. "If you won't tell me then I'll ask Patrick." She pulled out her mobile phone and dialed Patrick's home number. Abigail knew that Patrick probably wasn't there, but decided to keep quiet.

Getting no reply, Amanda tried Patrick's mobile number, but he had switched it off. "He's not there," she announced.

"Perhaps he's gone out," Abigail said.

"We both know he needs to spend his evening female to recuperate from staying male all day. In fact, after the strain of the day it's virtually impossible for him to stay male."

"Yes. So?" Abigail knew where this was going, but couldn't see a way to avoid it.

"So, he's gone out, as a woman."

"Possibly. What does it matter? He can't spend the next few weeks stuck in his apartment."

"He's gone out, as a woman, alone, and you let him?!"

"He's not actually alone--" Abigail clamped her mouth shut, but it was too late.

"Who is he with? Just tell me."

"Ian."

"And where are they?"

"I truly don't know that. All I know is they're going to a restaurant."

"Ian and Patrick, at a restaurant." The look of puzzlement quickly changed to horror. "We've got to find them, quick!" Amanda got to her feet and strode over to the narrow stairs leading down to Abigail's shop. She turned to see Abigail still sitting down. "Don't you see? His 'Rebecca' persona is coming back! We have to get to him before he totally loses control again!"

"I don't think that's happening." Abigail replied, but Amanda was already racing down the stairs.

Ian rang Patrick's doorbell ten minutes early. Patrick was tempted to get Ian to wait, as he had been forced to many times by women over the years.

He had spent every second since getting home preparing for the date. Choosing the outfit he would wear had been surprisingly difficult. Women had far more choice in what they could wear and he wanted to be sure that it gave the right message to Ian. If only he could decide exactly what message to send. In the end he chose a green dress that was slightly more conservative than most of his female clothes. Even so, it still revealed a great deal of leg and cleavage. Patrick knew he had to be careful with Ian. If he pushed to hard he might scare the younger man off.

He had just finished getting ready when Ian arrived. In the event, he didn't leave Ian waiting. Instead he rushed to the door and opened it.

Ian's jaw dropped at the sight of his boss standing there. The green dress really showed off Patrick's curves well. It left his shoulders bare and fitted snugly around his midriff before flaring around his legs.

Patrick smiled at Ian's stunned look and twirled around, "What do you think?" he asked.

Ian opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to think of something coherent to say. It had taken him all morning to gather the nerve to ask Patrick out. After his boss had said yes, Ian had spent all afternoon panicking about the upcoming date.

In his female form, Patrick was everything Ian wanted in a woman. Intelligent, witty and devastatingly beautiful. What was the problem was that Ian didn't consider himself gay, yet surely that was the sort of relationship he was asking for if he started dating Patrick?

Finally, fortified with a couple of drinks, Ian had arrived at Patrick's apartment. As he had rung the doorbell he had been filled with the certainty that Patrick would laugh at him once he opened the door and tell him he had just been joking.

Instead, here was Patrick in a truly beautiful outfit, a woman ready for her date.

"You look incredible, Patrick." Ian finally managed to say.

"Thank you, Ian. You looking good yourself. Call me Pat, though. People will stare if you call me Patrick."

"They're going to stare anyway."

"Thanks, I think." Patrick replied with a smile.

As they waited in the elevator, Ian hesitantly put his arm around Patrick. This was a very strange situation, Patrick realized, but there was no doubt in his mind. This was the right thing to do. He put his arm around Ian and pulled him closer.

They had to take Patrick's car as Ian only had his motorbike. Ian was a little embarrassed by this, as he had arranged the date and he felt he should do all the work.

Patrick had wined and dined many women over the years, but this was a unique experience for him. For the first time, it wasn't him the waiters turned to, but his companion. A small cough was needed to remind Ian he was supposed to help Patrick into his chair. He fought to hide a smile as Ian struggled with the wine list, before dropping a couple of hints on what to select.

Ian was too nervous to engage in much conversation, but the eye contact between the two spoke volumes. As the dinner progressed to the final course, Patrick slid his stockinged foot out of his shoe and rubbed it slowly against Ian's leg. Ian jumped as if he had been shot, before smiling at Patrick.

Patrick knew Ian's thoughts were turning to what could happen later as much as his were. The question he asked himself was a new one. Should he go all the way on a first date? The question had never been worth asking before.

But there was something between them. Something that Patrick hadn't felt at all with Hank and only a few times with all the women he had been with. But was it love or just his new hormones at work?

He finally gave up asking himself the question. It was impossible to work out there and then, only time would tell. Forget the future, he told himself, just concentrate on the now.

"No, we don't have a reservation! I just need to talk to those two over there!"

Ian and Patrick both turned at the unmistakable sound of Amanda's voice. She was arguing with the head waiter while a fairly embarrassed Abigail stood by.

"Ian!" she yelled. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You know his mind is still out of it!"

Ian saw the other diners looking at him and felt his face go red.

"Come on," Patrick said angrily, "let's get out of here."

TO BE CONTINUED...

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