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From: Stephanie <stephanie@nym.alias.net>
Subject: REPOST TG: It's Hard to be a Man (1/13) by Stephanie
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                     TG: It's Hard to be a Man (1/13)

        This is the first of a new series for me. I've updated my

webpage a bit, with some new links in it.

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

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

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

                  It's Hard to be a Man Part One
                               by
                            Stephanie

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

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

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

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

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

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

        Patrick smiled and rather belatedly tried to turn on the charm.
"Look, you know how busy I am with my job. I don't get the money I do
without a lot of work. I don't think you realize 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 realize 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 they scrabbled at his
shirt and ripped it open, revealing the creamy globes 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, between his own legs.

        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 could 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!

TO BE CONTINUED...


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