It's Hard to be a Man


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	Abigail nodded and smiled in thanks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Amanda, please listen--" Patrick started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	Patrick almost exploded. "What?!"

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

	"And?"

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

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

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

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

	"We're here," Abigail told him.

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

	"Becky?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

	"Do you know him?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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