It's Hard to be a Man 

	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?