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Subject: TG: It's Hard to be a Man by Stephanie ch 1 - ch 5
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Some one requested the newest chapters of Stephanie's New Story, "
It's Hard to be a Man" Here is all she has written so far!
Enjoy!
Sapphire
TG: It's Hard to be a Man (1/?)
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.
(Sapphire's Note: Stephanie's stories can be found at Sapphire's Place
http://www1.mhv.net/sapphire Enjoy them! )
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!
TG: It's Hard to be a Man (2/?)
It's Hard to be a Man Part Two
by
Stephanie
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!
TG: It's Hard to be a Man (3/?)
It's Hard to be a Man Part Three
by
Stephanie
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?
TG: It's Hard to be a Man (4/?)
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.
TG: It's Hard to be a Man (5/?)
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...
TO BE CONTINUED...
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