It's Hard to be a Man 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!