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From: Stephanie <stephanie@nym.alias.net>
Subject: NEW TG: It's Hard to be a Man (12/?) by Stephanie
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                  TG: It's Hard to be a Man (12/?)


	This chapter is dedicated to the memory of Captain Webster.


	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 1998 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 Twelve
                               by
                            Stephanie

	Patrick stumbled into his apartment and shut the door behind
him. He almost hadn't made it. Despite his best efforts he already had
the breasts of a teenage girl.

	Now that he was in the safety of his own home he could relax. He
quickly undid the top few buttons of his shirt as his mammaries grew to
fill it. He sighed and leant against the door as the rest of his body
turned feminine.

	Perhaps he had been a little over-confident in thinking he could
last the several weeks until Amanda could perform the ritual that would
break his curse. At least now he wouldn't have to stand it alone. He had
Amanda,  Abigail and Ian to help him now. He thought about Ian again and
his heart lurched.

	Why did Ian have to go and resign? Patrick had faced up to what
had happened between them and he could live with it. Why couldn't Ian?

	Patrick walked into the bathroom and stripped off his ill-fitting
male clothes and pulled on a bathrobe. He pushed his long, blonde hair
out of his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. Even after all that
had happened he was still surprised to see a woman staring back at him.

	A very attractive woman too, even if he did say so himself. That
was part of Ian's problem. Patrick's female form was very attractive to
him and the younger man simply didn't know how to deal with those
feelings. Now he was going to run away rather than deal with them.

	Patrick fixed himself a light meal and then headed to the spare
bedroom. Inside was the large pile of female clothing he had bought. He
had intended to burn the lot when he had regained his senses the previous
day. When he sorted out the underwear he needed for his female form he
realized he couldn't bring himself to get rid of the rest.

	Most of the lingerie was designed more for appeal than
functionality. He picked up a pink satin bra and rubbed the slippery
fabric between his fingers. An idea formed. Ian needed to face his fears
rather than run away from them, Patrick decided.

		*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

	Ian looked through all the papers and magazines he had bought.
There wasn't many jobs on offer in advertising and most that were there
wanted far more experience than he had. As much as he hated the idea, he
was going to have to get another, lower paid, job in some area he wasn't
interested in and hope that something worthwhile turned up later.

	He didn't want to leave his job - he had been happy there - but
he really didn't have that much choice. The alternative was to work with
Patrick and he couldn't face that. He remembered how Patrick had given
him the blowjob of his life. The memory was so intense that he could
almost feel Patrick's hot mouth working on him.

	He felt a stirring in his pants from the memory and then felt
disgusted with himself. This was a man he was fantasizing about! If only
his boss had always been a woman. It was impossible to deny that, when he
was a woman, Patrick had a great body.

	This wasn't helping. He refocused on the paper in front of him.
The sooner he could find a new job the better.

	The doorbell rang and he looked up in annoyance. It was probably
Abigail, again. She was only trying to help, but she seemed like she
wanted to mother him too much at times.

	He opened the door, looked up and froze. It wasn't Abigail.
Patrick was standing there holding a six-pack in one hand.

	Ian couldn't stop his gaze from rolling over Patrick. His boss
was wearing a simple black dress. The dress ended long before it reached
his knees and underneath Patrick was wearing some dark tights or
stockings. She (he, Ian corrected himself) even had black shoes with
three-inch spike heels on them.

	"Are you going to invite me in?" Patrick asked sweetly.

	Ian's gaze snapped to Patrick's face. She's wearing make-up, he
thought. As far as Ian could tell, it had been applied reasonably well at
least. Patrick even had gold clip on earrings and a matching necklace and
bracelet.

	What is she doing here? Ian thought in a panic and stepped
backwards away from Patrick. His boss took that as an invitation and
stepped into Ian's apartment, shutting the door behind him. "We need to
talk."

	"I-I've said all I've got to say. It'd be best if we didn't see
each other."

	"Nonsense," Patrick replied and sat down in an armchair. "We need
to work things out. I'm not about to lose one of the best members of my
team without a fight. Sit down."

	Ian obeyed, finding a chair opposite Patrick. Unconsciously, his
eyes ran up his boss' shapely legs and widened in shock when he realized
that the way Patrick was sitting, he could see that it _was_ stockings
that the transformed man had on, and there was a pair of matching black
panties to go with them.

	Patrick saw Ian's eyes almost pop out of his head. He shifted in
his chair and crossed his legs. "Sorry, I keep forgetting to do that when
I have a skirt on."

	"Why..." Ian started, but his throat was dry. He cleared it and
started again, "Why are you dressed like that?"

	"I have to spend my evenings female to have the strength to stay
male at work, you know that."

	"Did you need to wear... that a-and make-up and stuff."

	"My father brought me up never to run away from stuff I feared,
and that's exactly what you're doing now." Patrick pulled a can from the
six-pack and opened it. "Have one yourself. Go on, it's low-alcohol,
there's no way you can get drunk on this stuff."

	Ian hesitated and then grabbed a can for himself. His hands were
shaking so much, he had difficulty opening it.

	"So," Patrick said suddenly, making Ian jump, "what exactly is
the problem?"

	"Huh?"

	"What exactly is making you so frightened. Are you scared by the
way I change? Do you think I'm some sort of freak or what?"

	"No, no. You're not a freak."

	"Well, that's something," Patrick replied with a smile that made
Ian's heart melt. "So what is it? Tell me. After the last few days I
doubt there's anything left that can surprise me."

	"I love you," Ian's jaw clamped shut, but it was already out. The
words seemed to reverberate around the room for what - to Ian - seemed
like hours.

	Ian's words seemed to echo in Patrick's head. Over the years
women had said exactly the same thing to him time and again, but it
wasn't the fact that it was being said by a man that so affected him. It
was because, for the first time, he actually cared.

	"I'm s-sorry," Ian said. "I didn't mean to say that," he laughed
weakly. "You only just got out of a relationship with a man. You don't
want to go through that again."

	"Not the same," Patrick replied. "This is something totally
different. And while you probably didn't mean to say it, you did mean
it."

	Ian tried to deny it, but his protests died in his throat. He
_did_ mean it, that was the problem. "Yeah, that might be true, but I
feel really uncomfortable about this and I don't want to sleep with you."

	Patrick raised an eyebrow in a look that clearly said he didn't
believe Ian. "I came here to talk, not sleep with you," he added gently.
"What got you interested in advertising?"

	Ian was a little surprised at the mundane question, but moving
the topic away from sex helped him to relax.

	The hours passed as the conversation meandered around many
different subjects. At one point they were arguing about football. Ian
knew it was a bit sexist, but he still found it odd to be talking to a
woman who knew far more about the sport than he did.

	Patrick made a very intelligent, witty and beautiful woman. If
only he truly was one. However, as the hours passed Ian found his fear
of Patrick receding.

	It was gone 2.00am when Patrick finally said he should be getting
home. "So we can forget this nonsense about you quitting, then?" he asked
as he opened the front door.

	"Yeah. Thanks for coming over. I really did need to sort out my
feelings about you."

	"We've both had thoughts and feelings in the last week we would
never have believed we'd have in a million years. Doesn't make them wrong
though, does it?"

	"No," Ian replied uncertainly. What exactly did Patrick mean by
that?

	"Seeya tomorrow," Patrick said brightly, "well later this
morning, I mean."

	"Yeah." Ian went back into his apartment and shut the door. Five
hours before he had to be up for work, and he knew he wasn't going to get
a minute's sleep.

		*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

	"So you think you've talked him out of resigning?" Abigail asked
Patrick.

	Patrick tugged his pants, trying to make himself more
comfortable. They were always uncomfortably tight when he had female
hips. He settled down in Abigail's chair. He was on his lunchbreak and
had made his way to Abigail's shop as usual. "Yeah, but it has affected
him in a way I never thought possible."

	"How so?"

	"This goes no further, you understand?" Patrick warned.

	"Cross my heart," Abigail said and then leaned closer, "now what
has Ian done?"

	"He said 'I love you'. I don't know who was more surprised, me or
him."

	Abigail nodded, "He always did look ill at ease when you were
female. It's not that surprising, you make a good-looking woman."

	"Thanks," Patrick replied absentmindedly.

	Abigail smiled. Just a few days earlier Patrick would have flown
into a rage at such a comment. "I can see that attraction isn't just one
way."

	Patrick started guiltily and looked up at Abigail. "It's that
obvious?"

	"Well, you don't seemed repulsed by the idea, do you?"

	Patrick sighed, "Why am I attracted to him?"

	"He's cute and very appealing in a vulnerable sort of way."

	"That's not what I meant and you know it. I'm a man."

	"Firstly, being a man is no reason not to be attracted to another
man and, as I've pointed out before, you're not a man at the moment."

	"Is that all this feeling is? Just hormones?"

	"Perhaps," Abigail replied thoughtfully, "but maybe not. When you
were 'Rebecca' and you were off with Hank, that was just hormones."

	Patrick couldn't help mulling over the situation all afternoon as
he tried to concentrate on his work. Was he truly attracted to Ian or was
it just his female body playing tricks on him again?

	"Patrick? Can I have a word?"

	He looked up to see Ian nervous face poking around the door of
his office. "Sure, come in." Patrick replied. Ian entered and shut the
door behind him.

	"You're not trying to quit again?" Patrick asked.

	"No!" Ian replied with a nervous laugh, "Um...I just happen to
have a reservation for two at The Green Room this evening and I was just
wondered if...perhaps...you'd...um...like to go."

	Patrick was amused by Ian's hesitantly, but he could feel his
heart beating faster at the idea. "Just happened to have a reservation?"
he asked.

	"Yes, you don't have to if you don't want to," Ian added
hurriedly.

	"It's a good restaurant, I'd love to, Ian."

	Ian beamed a great big smile of relief, "T-that's excellent!
I'll...um...pick you up at eight, if that's okay?"

	"Eight o'clock is fine. I'm looking forward to it."

	Ian wandered out of the office with a big grin on his face, that
he tried to hide when Susan frowned at him.

	"Did you get a raise or something?" she asked him.

	"Something like that," Ian replied.

	She looked at him suspiciously and wondered why everyone had
suddenly started acting so strange recently.

	Back in his office, Patrick tried to concentrate on his work, but
it was no good. As usual while he was at his desk he was only keeping his
top half male. He could feel the dampness in his underpants and the
longing in his groin. He knew he couldn't really deny the desires anymore
and he started wondering if tonight would be 'the night'.

		*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

	"Arbreth Llerven clath--"

	"No, no, no." Abigail said interrupting Amanda. "It's cleth not
clath. You have to be absolutely syllable perfect or you'll turn him into
a chicken or worse."

	"How can you be sure you know the correct pronunciation anyway?"

	"Years of study and knowledge. Let's take a break. There's no
point in getting too exhausted and I think you won't need to do this
ritual after all."

	"Why not?" Amanda asked suspiciously.

	Abigail winced. "Ah... nothing."

	"Abigail," Amanda asked slowly, "what's going on? Is there another
way to stop Patrick turning into a woman?"

	"No... the ritual is the only way I know."

	"Then what did you mean?"

	"I promised not to tell. It's probably not important anyway."

	Amanda was starting to seethe. "If you won't tell me then I'll
ask Patrick." She pulled out her mobile phone and dialed Patrick's home
number. Abigail knew that Patrick probably wasn't there, but decided to
keep quiet.

	Getting no reply, Amanda tried Patrick's mobile number, but he
had switched it off. "He's not there," she announced.

	"Perhaps he's gone out," Abigail said.

	"We both know he needs to spend his evening female to recuperate
from staying male all day. In fact, after the strain of the day it's
virtually impossible for him to stay male."

	"Yes. So?" Abigail knew where this was going, but couldn't see a
way to avoid it.

	"So, he's gone out, as a woman."

	"Possibly. What does it matter? He can't spend the next few weeks
stuck in his apartment."

	"He's gone out, as a woman, alone, and you let him?!"

	"He's not actually alone--" Abigail clamped her mouth shut, but
it was too late.

	"Who is he with? Just tell me."

	"Ian."

	"And where are they?"

	"I truly don't know that. All I know is they're going to a
restaurant."

	"Ian and Patrick, at a restaurant." The look of puzzlement
quickly changed to horror. "We've got to find them, quick!" Amanda got
to her feet and strode over to the narrow stairs leading down to
Abigail's shop. She turned to see Abigail still sitting down. "Don't you
see? His 'Rebecca' persona is coming back! We have to get to him before
he totally loses control again!"

	"I don't think that's happening." Abigail replied, but Amanda was
already racing down the stairs.

		*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

	Ian rang Patrick's doorbell ten minutes early. Patrick was
tempted to get Ian to wait, as he had been forced to many times by women
over the years.

	He had spent every second since getting home preparing for the
date. Choosing the outfit he would wear had been surprisingly difficult.
Women had far more choice in what they could wear and he wanted to be
sure that it gave the right message to Ian. If only he could decide
exactly what message to send. In the end he chose a green dress that was
slightly more conservative than most of his female clothes. Even so, it
still revealed a great deal of leg and cleavage. Patrick knew he had to
be careful with Ian. If he pushed to hard he might scare the younger man
off.

	He had just finished getting ready when Ian arrived. In the event,
he didn't leave Ian waiting. Instead he rushed to the door and opened it.

	Ian's jaw dropped at the sight of his boss standing there. The
green dress really showed off Patrick's curves well. It left his
shoulders bare and fitted snugly around his midriff before flaring
around his legs.

	Patrick smiled at Ian's stunned look and twirled around, "What
do you think?" he asked.

	Ian opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to
think of something coherent to say. It had taken him all morning to
gather the nerve to ask Patrick out. After his boss had said yes, Ian
had spent all afternoon panicking about the upcoming date.

	In his female form, Patrick was everything Ian wanted in a
woman. Intelligent, witty and devastatingly beautiful. What was the
problem was that Ian didn't consider himself gay, yet surely that was
the sort of relationship he was asking for if he started dating Patrick?

	Finally, fortified with a couple of drinks, Ian had arrived at
Patrick's apartment. As he had rung the doorbell he had been filled with
the certainty that Patrick would laugh at him once he opened the door
and tell him he had just been joking.

	Instead, here was Patrick in a truly beautiful outfit, a woman
ready for her date.

	"You look incredible, Patrick." Ian finally managed to say.

	"Thank you, Ian. You looking good yourself. Call me Pat, though.
People will stare if you call me Patrick."

	"They're going to stare anyway."

	"Thanks, I think." Patrick replied with a smile.

	As they waited in the elevator, Ian hesitantly put his arm around
Patrick. This was a very strange situation, Patrick realized, but there
was no doubt in his mind. This was the right thing to do. He put his arm
around Ian and pulled him closer.

	They had to take Patrick's car as Ian only had his motorbike.
Ian was a little embarrassed by this, as he had arranged the date and he
felt he should do all the work.

	Patrick had wined and dined many women over the years, but this
was a unique experience for him. For the first time, it wasn't him the
waiters turned to, but his companion. A small cough was needed to remind
Ian he was supposed to help Patrick into his chair. He fought to hide a
smile as Ian struggled with the wine list, before dropping a couple of
hints on what to select.

	Ian was too nervous to engage in much conversation, but the eye
contact between the two spoke volumes. As the dinner progressed to the
final course, Patrick slid his stockinged foot out of his shoe and rubbed
it slowly against Ian's leg. Ian jumped as if he had been shot, before
smiling at Patrick.

	Patrick knew Ian's thoughts were turning to what could happen
later as much as his were. The question he asked himself was a new one.
Should he go all the way on a first date? The question had never been
worth asking before.

	But there was something between them. Something that Patrick
hadn't felt at all with Hank and only a few times with all the women he
had been with. But was it love or just his new hormones at work?

	He finally gave up asking himself the question. It was impossible
to work out there and then, only time would tell. Forget the future, he
told himself, just concentrate on the now.

	"No, we don't have a reservation! I just need to talk to those
two over there!"

	Ian and Patrick both turned at the unmistakable sound of Amanda's
voice. She was arguing with the head waiter while a fairly embarrassed
Abigail stood by.

	"Ian!" she yelled. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You
know his mind is still out of it!"

	Ian saw the other diners looking at him and felt his face go red.

	"Come on," Patrick said angrily, "let's get out of here."

TO BE CONTINUED...


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