It's Hard To Be A Man free porn video

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 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 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! Patrick wearily walked back into his apartment. It was barely a couple of hours past noon, but he could easily say this was already the worst day of his life. He felt his body start to change and he had to concentrate for a moment to stop it. Perhaps the worst thing about his situation was that he had no idea what to do now. The only person he could think was responsible clearly had no knowledge of it. He wasn't that hungry, but he fixed a small lunch for himself anyway. As he ate it, he looked out the window at the street below. Somewhere out there was the person responsible for his strange affliction, but he could do nothing until she contacted him. He had a terrible headache from his hangover, and from having to concentrate every couple of minutes to stop himself changing. He groaned as he saw the package that had arrived that morning. Patrick had an important meeting at work next day and he had planned to spend Sunday getting up to speed. Well, it wasn't going to be fun, but he needed something to take his mind off his hopeless position. He couldn't afford to let his job go to hell, even if the rest of his life was wrecked. Eventually he'd find out who was responsible for his transformations and he'd force them to stop it. This wouldn't be forever. It couldn't be forever. He spent his entire adult life climbing the corporate ladder and he couldn't let his career fail now. Patrick sat down and opened the parcel. Inside were several dozen documents that he needed to be up to date on by the meeting the next day. He found it nearly impossible to concentrate on them. Partly because of the worry gnawing at the back of his mind, and partly due to having to fight down each attempted transformation. Finally, he threw down the document and leaned back in the chair. Why me? he asked himself as he stared at the ceiling. What have I done to deserve this? He felt his body start to shift yet again and this time he let it. His shirt had already lost a couple of buttons from the last time he had transformed. Even so, it grew tight around his chest as his soft breasts inflated. His jeans felt way too tight, and he reached down to release them. The waistband was loose. It was his wide hips that were causing the problem. With a little difficulty, he managed to pull the jeans off. He sat back down wearing just his boxers and shirt. Patrick knew he was stuck with this hateful feminine body if he wanted to be able to concentrate on the documents. He picked up the folder he had been reading and tried to concentrate. It was difficult at first; the strange feeling of his body distracted him. Slowly, however, he was drawn into the document. He had always had a flair for marketing. It was this ability that had got him as far as it had. He headed a marketing team at the Ross-Shimura Corporation and took home a good deal of money. Over the next hour he made his way through all the documents. Already, he was getting ideas on how to organize the campaign. He became so wrapped up in the files, that he only remembered he was in a female body when he reached up to scratch his head. His hand brushed the long hair on his head and he instantly remembered his condition. He got up and went back to the bedroom. He spent many long minutes observing his face in the mirror, observing every small detail. He did, in fact, make a very beautiful woman. Someone who he would definitely try to sleep with if he ever met. That could never happen, of course. Also, he would have to take care that he never lost control again. He shuddered when he remembered the fantasy he had had in the shower. He still couldn't believe he had fantasized about having sex with a man. Despite all that, his gloom was lifting a little. He had got over the initial shock and the knowledge that he could turn himself male at any time helped. Patrick wondered what it would be like to go out in his female form. He'd have to wear more than the boxer shorts he had on now. Amanda's clothes! He had completely forgotten about them in the horror of the morning. During the early days of their relationship, Amanda would often stay over the weekend at his apartment. Patrick disliked her doing that, because it meant he couldn't go out looking for one night stands if he wanted to. He disliked the idea of ever settling down with just one woman. He knew he'd be climbing the walls inside of a week if that ever happened. So he had slowly persuaded Amanda not to stay there at weekends. While she had been staying at his place she would often leave a small stash of her clothes. That way she could go straight to Patrick's apartment from her workplace without bothering to pack a suitcase. The idea of actually wearing her clothes unsettled him a little, but he reassured himself that it was only a little fun. It's not like he was some sort of transvestite, after all, since he was female at that moment. He pulled the clothes out of the drawer and sorted them out on the bed. In all, there were three sets of underwear, a light, cotton dress, a tight leather skirt and a top that was barely more than a bra. Amanda loved night- clubs and he always felt she dressed provocatively for them. It was one of the thing that attracted Patrick to her in the first place. He pushed off his boxers and selected the first bit of her clothes to try on. He picked up one of the panties at random. It was the usual lace and silk type that women wore. Should he really be doing this? He didn't want to encourage his more feminine side after the incident in the shower. Surely it didn't matter that much? Anyway, he could always change back before he got carried away again. This time he'd be ready for it. Carefully, he stepped into the panties and pulled them up his shapely, smooth legs. The cool fabric fitted snugly around his strange new crotch. He looked at the panties in the mirror. They fitted well and looked good on him. He ran his hand over his silk covered bottom. They felt much finer than his boxer shorts. Patrick turned to the bra, but quickly rejected it. He knew what outfit he wanted to try. He picked up the short, black leather skirt. It was almost indecently short. He stepped into it and managed to work it up around his hips. Patrick had trouble doing it up, until he realized that a woman's waistline was higher than a man's. He pulled the skirt up some more and managed to do it up. It fitted him like a second skin and accentuated the curve of his hips. It restricted his movement a little. He knew he'd have to careful how he sat with it on, so that he didn't expose himself to the world. He rejected the bra and went straight for the white top. It also proved difficult to get on. Doing the clasp up at the back wasn't something he was used to. Also the top was designed for someone with a smaller bust than his. He found he had a strange pride in being better endowed than his ex- girlfriend. Finally, he managed it and turned to see what he looked like. He definitely needed a larger top. This one was a bit too small. Amanda was a B cup, that meant he had to be up in the C or D size. He thought that the way his breasts were squeezed into the top made him look like a hooker. He started striking provocative poses and blowing kisses to the mirror. "I'm one sexy broad," he declared out loud. This was the first time he had really listened to his female voice. It sounded as sexy as the rest of him looked. It was only then he realized he was getting turned on by his own image. He walked back into the main room and flicked on the TV. He tried to sit as he normally did, with his legs wide apart. He quickly found his skirt wouldn't let him do that. He finally got comfortable by curling his legs under him. He flipped through the channels until he came to some trashy TV movie. He didn't care about the plot, but he found himself watching a scene with a man and a woman set on a beach. Both were wearing skimpy swimming costumes that left little to the imagination. Patrick had to admit she was very good looking, and the man wasn't bad either. In fact, it looked like he was hung like a horse. As he watched the TV program, Patrick started to daydream. He imagined himself on that beach, looking up at the masculine hunk of a man in front of him. The couple kissed and Patrick felt envious as the woman ran her hands over the man's body. He wondered what it would be like to wrap himself around that muscular body and be impaled on that large manhood. His hands drifted to his breasts almost of their own volition and started to rub his nipples through his top. A warm liquid sensation spread through his crotch. As he rubbed his hard, aching nipples, Patrick's fantasy grew. He imagined that he was the man's girlfriend. He could almost feel the man's strong hands caressing him, and then holding him down as they made rough and passionate love. Patrick was almost at the point of orgasm just from stroking his breasts. He was imagining what it would feel like to be penetrated when he finally realized what he was thinking. "No!" he shouted in a voice thick with fear and lust. He leapt off the couch and concentrated on his male self with all his willpower. He was so close to his climax at this point that it was set off mearly by his cock rubbing against his skirt as it grew. His orgasm was so powerful that he almost keeled over as he pumped his seed into his panties. He collapsed onto the couch until he had got his breath back. Patrick was painfully aware of how easily he had lost control again. If he was going to survive this, he'd have to learn to control himself when female. He got to his feet and went to the bathroom. The female clothes looked absurd on his male frame. He pulled them off as quickly as possible. His panties were sticky with his cum and his female juices. He threw them away in disgust. As he cleaned himself off he felt really disgusted. Why couldn't he control himself as a female? Was it because he wasn't used to the female body and emotions? Or was it some aspect of the curse that had transformed him? Patrick was certain that whichever woman from his past was responsible for this wouldn't wait long before making herself known to him. Once he knew who was responsible, he could start to fight back. All he had to do was keep control of himself and wait. For the rest of the day, Patrick made sure he stayed male. He wouldn't give in, he couldn't give in. The alternative, succumbing to life as a woman, was too hideous to contemplate. His hangover slowly cleared up, but his headache got steadily worse. He went to bed far earlier than he normally did. For the first time in a long while he spent a weekend night alone. Patrick was exhausted from the trauma of the day and he soon fell fast asleep. He woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed when his alarm clock sounded the next morning. Normally, he felt tense every Monday morning. It was only when he reached over to switch the alarm clock off that he felt his breasts shift on his chest. In an instant he was wide awake. All at once, the memory of the horrific events of the previous day flooded back. He couldn't even go to sleep without his body rebelling and changing! He lay on his back in the bed. He could call in sick, but he knew that wasn't an option. If he didn't get out of the apartment and do something soon, he'd go insane. Besides, he had an important meeting that day. There was no way he was going to let it defeat him. He wouldn't give his tormentor that satisfaction. Patrick got up. He was all too aware of his wide hips swivelling and his breasts bouncing as he walked. He spent several minutes in his female form. As long as he was careful about what he thought about, he could stop himself getting lost in a feminine fantasy, like he had twice before. He shifted back to his male self and quickly got himself ready for work. The almost-familiar pressure of the change filled him every few minutes, but he was able to fight it down with ease. His problems started when he had to concentrate on doing something other than just staying male. As he was driving into the city down the crowded streets he realized he wasn't going to be able to spend enough time stopping himself from changing and control the car. Unable to give his full attention to his body, Patrick felt his legs starting to change. The pedals of the car seemed to grow slightly further away from him. He felt the strange pulling sensation in his crotch as he turned female. He couldn't let himself change here. What if someone saw him? By now he could feel his shirt starting to grow tight. Patrick concentrated on keeping his head and chest male. Yes! It was working! By concentrating on a smaller part of his body he could keep that male and drive at the same time. His hands were more slender than his normal male ones and each finger was topped with a long fingernail. That didn't matter, no-one could see that. As long as he could keep his head and chest male, no-one would suspect anything. Even so, Patrick was exhausted by the time he arrived at work. His earlier optimism was dissipating. Was he going to have to apply this effort every moment of his life, just to stay male? His shoe fell off his foot as he got out of his car. He hastily turned himself totally male and put his shoe back on. Most of his staff had already made it into the office ahead of him that morning. Patrick headed straight into his personal office with a strong coffee. He was going to need to keep his wits about him today. He looked out through the glass partition, that separated his office from the main working area, at his team getting organized. They would throw together their first impressions for the new campaign and then they would present them to Patrick's boss in the afternoon. Patrick hated working that way, but that was the way his boss liked to do things. To get the honest first opinions, he would say. Hank was trying it on with Susan again. Patrick had to smile at his perseverance. Hank was Patrick's best friend in the office and the two shared the same insatiable taste for women. Hank was a tall, dark haired man. He had a hard muscular physique from long hours in the gym. Susan was a smaller, but fiery, black woman. Susan was giving Hank the usual ice-cold brush off. Patrick had told him on a dozen occasions that he was never going to get anywhere with her. Hank had just replied that Patrick was jealous and had his own designs on her. The two other people who worked directly under Patrick were concentrating on the product they were going to have to design a campaign for. Albert was in his fifties and while he was good at his job, Patrick found him utterly dull. Ian was in his early twenties and showed excellent potential. Patrick thought he didn't put himself forward enough, though, and he tended to be too quiet. Patrick took a back seat during the brainstorming session in the morning. Usually, he led from the front, but he was too preoccupied with keeping his problem under tight control. The product they were working on was a palmtop computer. The brief was to give it a wider appeal than just the business user. By lunch they had produced a few initial ideas. Susan went off with Albert and Ian for lunch, pointedly ignoring a lewd offer made by Hank. "You're never going to get her that way, you know." Patrick told him. "I'm wearing her down," Hank replied confidently. "Soon she'll be begging me for it." "Yeah, right." "You were quiet today. Is anything up?" "No, no. Just a late night." Patrick said. "Oh, I see? Amanda, is it?" Patrick paused to fight down another transforming surge. "No, I dumped her the other day. She was getting annoying." "Do you want to get a beer?" Hank asked. "Not really, I still haven't recovered from yesterday." That much was true. "I'll go for a walk and clear my head before we meet Jennings later." Hank shrugged, "Okay." Patrick watched him go. In many ways, Hank was his closest friend, but Patrick could never share his problem with him. Hank just wouldn't be able to cope with it. Patrick wasn't too sure he could cope with it either. He left the office building and put on his sunglasses. His headache was getting worse again. He promised himself that he'd go home as soon as the meeting was over. He hadn't gone out for some fresh air. There wasn't much of that in the middle of the city, anyway. There was, however, one small little shop he had passed a thousand times, but had never dreamed of entering. It was a long shot, but it could provide him with all the answers he needed. It was a shop dealing with New Age and occult books and assorted bits and pieces. Patrick looked at the peeling sign, which read 'The Third Eye'. He had half a mind to just give up on the shop there and then. How could this place provide anything useful? Despite his misgivings, he entered the shop. It might seem to be gibberish for the gullible, but the fact of the matter was that something had been done to him. It was either a technology far in advance of anything he had ever heard of, or magic. Patrick looked at the books on the shelf, feeling really out of place in his suit and tie. "Can I help you?" said a woman behind him. Patrick turned to see a ginger haired woman in her forties dressed in a hippie style outfit. "Ummm...no, I'm just looking." "I can sense the duality in you," she told him. "I'm psychic, you see." she explained. "Uh huh," said Patrick sceptically. "You are looking for something specific, aren't you?" "I'm looking for something on physical transformations. Do you have anything like that?" "Let's see," she bustled past him and plucked three books, seemingly at random, from the shelves. "This should be a good start," she told him. "If you need anything specific, you come back and let me know, okay?" "Yeah, sure." He bought the books and got out of the shop. He didn't want to be seen carrying books on magic by his colleagues, especially Hank, so he dropped them in his car before heading back to the office. He took the few seconds on the elevator to try and relax. His headache was getting almost unbearable from the concentration necessary to stay male. His team was waiting for him and together they went to a meeting room to present their ideas. Patrick wasn't helped by the fact that his boss, Mr Jennings, was several minutes late. His headache was worsening and he knew he couldn't hold on much longer. As he waited, he relaxed control over the lower half of his body. Almost immediately, his shoes seemed to grow in size as his feet became daintier. His trousers grew tight as his hips widened. When Jennings finally arrived, he stood to shake the man's hand. He sat down again and was relived to see that no-one seemed to have noticed his more curvier form. He started outlining his team's ideas. Normally, he liked to lead from the front and do most of the talking. Patrick knew that this time he'd have to hold back and let the rest of his team take the strain. Patrick had to concentrate on what he was saying and he was aware that he was losing control over his body as he did so. "Susan's idea for the SG-4300 is to aim it at the teenage market. There is already a large market for cheaper, simpler gadgets and we feel the upper end of this market could be exploited." Without warning his voice cracked, and he said 'exploited' in a far higher tone than he wanted to. He cleared his throat and apologized, blaming a cough he had. He finished summarizing the plans and let each member of his team explain their plans in detail. They were rather surprized by his move, as Patrick usually monopolized meetings and they were luckily to get a word in. They soon recovered and began explaining their ideas. Patrick was in real pain now, and could barely keep his distress hidden. Somehow, he managed to keep a calm look on his face until each team member had put forward their ideas. Jennings nodded approvingly, "I think Susan's and Ian's ideas have the most potential and I'd like you to develop those for the time being. I..." Jennings stopped and frowned at Patrick. What's he looking at? thought Patrick. Then he felt his growing breasts push against his shirt and he realized what was happening. He quickly used all his willpower to reduce his breasts back down to their normal male size. Jennings blinked and rubbed his eyes. Then he seemed to dismiss what he had seen and carry on with his speech. Patrick glanced around at his team, but they had all been looking at Jennings, except for Ian, and hadn't seen anything. Ian didn't look alarmed, so Patrick knew that no-one but his boss had seen anything odd. The meeting was over. With his last bit of mental energy he was able to fully restore his male shape. Even so, as he walked with his boss to the elevator, he could feel his control slipping. His feet were feeling looser in his shoes and his body was taking on a curvier shape. "Are you feeling alright?" Jennings asked. "Just a little cough, I think," Patrick explained, "I'll be fine." Jennings could see that, whatever it was, it was more than just a cold. He was privately pleased by Patrick's commitment to his job, despite being obviously ill. As soon as Jennings was gone, Patrick almost ran to the washroom and locked himself in a cubicle. He remembered to undo some of the buttons on his shirt as he transformed. He sat on the toilet in his female form and gripped his throbbing head. For several long minutes he sat there as his headache started to very slowly recede. "Patrick? Are you okay?" It was Hank! Patrick checked his watch. He had been in the toilet for over fifteen minutes! He tried to shift back to his male self, so he could speak, but his headache was still so strong that he couldn't concentrate enough. He pitched his voice low and said "Yeah, I'll be fine." He tried to make his voice sound as masculine as possible, but he still sounded like a girl trying a funny voice. "Okay," Hank said, sounding uncertain. Patrick ignored his headache and concentrated on getting himself back in his male form. He was rewarded as his male form reappeared. He did up his shirt and staggered out of the washroom. "Man!" Hank remarked, "you look bad!" "I feel it." Patrick replied. "I'm going home for the day. Make sure you get started on the designs." "Don't worry about that, you get home and lay off the booze for a while." Patrick managed to get back to his car before he lost control over his form again. He had no hope of maintaining any part of his male body now. He just hoped that he wouldn't be pulled over by the cops while driving as a woman. His headache was so bad, that he could barely concentrate enough to drive. He drove slowly, and carefully, home. The severe headache helped to distract him from his curvy, feminine body. Patrick made it home without incident and soon he was back in the safety of his apartment. He walked wearily into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He looked at the blonde bombshell in the mirror wearing an ill-fitting man's suit. He couldn't even go one whole day without losing control. His headache would take hours to go down. Patrick knew he'd have to spend the rest of the day as a woman if wanted to have any hope of surviving the next day. Even then, his chances were slim. Patrick despaired. What was he going to do now? He couldn't survive like this! 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," s