The case against Sen. Bob Packwood (R-Ore.) comes in 10 green-bound volumes, the exhaustive and damning story of a powerful but troubled man who forced himself on women, hustled favors from lobbyist friends and altered his diaries when the words could incriminate him.

The Senate ethics committee yesterday released the 10,145 pages of documents a day after recommending Packwood's expulsion from the Senate and hours before Packwood announced he would resign. The documents describe how Packwood on at least 18 occasions made unwelcome advances toward women, deliberately tried to reduce alimony payments to his soon-to-be ex-wife by getting lobbyists to offer her jobs and tried to impede the ethics committee's investigation by changing his personal diaries.

But the record is much more than a numbing list of charges, for it contains depositions and testimony from angry women, Packwood staffers and friends, family members and Packwood himself. Each bit of testimony enlarges and amplifies the portrait of a powerful, arrogant man who is at the same time shy, awkward and eager for companionship.

In the until-now-unseen diaries, the centerpiece of the ethics committee documents, Packwood is preoccupied by sex, often consumed by liquor, vainglorious and judgmental. He engages in little self-reflection, casting himself as a sage and bon vivant, throwing parties in his office, drinking wine after hours and encouraging staff members to come in for heart-to-heart talks.

In one diary entry he reflects that it his "Christian duty" to have sex with one woman who was not getting any: "She's got this little body, and she had about five glasses of wine," the diary said.

But in real life Packwood, it turns out, was often inept, a compulsive groper with the savoir faire and social skills of an 11th grader: "slobbery," said Kerry Paige Whitney, a Capitol elevator operator describing the kiss Packwood planted on her in 1977. "It was sort of shy, too, almost like a little boy," she said. "It reminded me of a child almost."

Gayle Rothrock, 23 years old when she baby-sat for Packwood in 1969, recalled the senator grabbing her as she was leaving, and kissing her "wet and insistent, you know, just moving around the lips -- I just recall it as a sloppy, sudden kiss, nothing that to my mind one could call romantic," she said. "Neither can I recall it being some sort of simple thank-you kiss."

In the committee transcripts, Packwood's accounts of his interaction with women describe an empty succession of sophomoric encounters in parking lots, mini-vans, hotel bars or his Senate office.

In depositions to ethics committee lawyers, the arrogance was gone. Instead, Packwood, when he answered at all, reflected nostalgically on the female companionship he had once enjoyed and ignored the hurt he may have inflicted.

"She was one of my favorite campaign workers," Packwood said of Eugenia Hutton, one of his accusers. "She was exuberant. She was fun to be with and she added a spark to any day that you were there."

But when it came to sexual advances, Packwood was vague: "I do not recall," he told committee lawyers about Hutton and more than a dozen others. Often, he said, it was too long ago or too insignificant an event. Later, he would also contend he was too drunk to remember.

Packwood, increasingly worried about the sexual misconduct investigation, began altering his diaries in early 1993, according to Cathy Wagner Cormack, who began transcribing his dictated diary while on his staff and continued for years after leaving it.

"Subsequent to the initiation of the ethics committee investigation, the senator took back some tapes in my possession which I had not yet transcribed," Cormack told committee investigators. "At a later time, it appeared to me that he may have made some revisions to those tapes. Subsequently, he confirmed that he had. I do not know what changes he made or how extensive any changes were."

But some of the tapes that Packwood took back were returned with audible differences. "Occasionally, there was a little bit of a difference in the tape, in the sound," Cormack told investigators. "A difference in background noise or, you know, just a difference in volume."

And, she added, "On some tapes, I noticed irregularities. I don't know if there were changes on those tapes, or what those changes might have been, but there was something in those tapes that made me think possibly there had been some."

Cormack said she asked Packwood about this, and "he basically confirmed" he had changed the tapes: "We didn't have a long conversation about it, but . . . it was sort of a body language thing, but he knew that I knew."

The committee noticed the changes when it compared tapes with transcripts made earlier by Cormack. One diary entry, dated Friday, Feb. 5, 1993, describes a news report about "five more women" willing to come forward with sexual abuse or harassment charges against Packwood.

The altered transcript describes the same incident, but notes in language absent from the original that one of the complainants "is a habitual liar. We know that. We can prove that. That will surely blow her testimony." It was in reading the diaries in late 1993 that investigators learned about Packwood's efforts to persuade lobbyists to find work for his estranged wife, Georgie.

Packwood wrote in the diaries that he hoped he could cobble together several jobs or retainers to pay his wife at least $20,000 a year, a sum that could have eased his alimony payments.

In the diaries he was confident, but he understood the strategy could be legally risky. "Boy, I'm skating on thin ice here," he wrote in late January 1990. Two months later, he added: "I frankly don't intend this supplement to Georgie to last more than five years in any event. I'd also talked with Tim Lee today to reverify his $10,000 and $10,000 from Bill Furman for Georgie.

"She'll have basically $30,000 to $40,000 in income for five years so long as I remain in the Senate," Packwood wrote.

In their lengthy narrative of the Packwood case, the ethics committee's staff counsel said that while there was no explicit quid pro quo between the senator and his friends with interests before the Congress, Packwood undertook "a deliberate and systematic plan to enhance his personal financial position."

Georgie Packwood testified that none of the job offers "led anywhere. I wasn't job hunting and I saw them as some kind of coercive behavior. They frightened me, but Bob Packwood frightened me in his behavior at that particular time anyway, so it was all part of the -- a huge package of manipulation of me."

Those who worked for Packwood or dealt with him on Senate business saw Packwood as a politician with a hunger to be president and a thirst for alcohol.

"That's something that everybody who ever worked for Packwood learned early on, is that after the sun hits the yardarm, you're crazy if you talk to him about anything that involves business," recalled former Packwood aide Steven R. Saunders in his ethics committee deposition.

Saunders said Packwood told him in 1989 that he would stand "a very good chance" running for president "because he would have a unique advantage among Republican candidates in getting women's support because of his leadership on women's issues."

But while many women's groups held him in high regard, the diaries told different stories. Packwood dwelt on what women looked like -- an intern was a "cute little button blonde thing" and another woman had an "ability to shift her hips." At one point Packwood refers to "the 22 staff members I'd made love to and probably 75 others I've had a passionate relationship with."

On Nov. 21, 1989, Packwood describes an office assignation with someone identified in the transcripts as "Staffer 1" or "S-1" -- "a very sexy thing. . . . We gradually drank and talked.

"I finally said to her, S-1, would you like to dance?' She says, I'd love to.' So I slipped around the side of this gigantic desk and we danced," the diary said. "Well, I won't bore you with all of the details of the evening. S-1 and I made love, and she has the most stunning figure -- big breasts."

"She says, You have no idea the hold you have over people.' I said, What is it?' She says, Well, I think it's your hair -- the way {blank} combs it.' And we both laughed.

"Now bear in mind this is an hour and a half after we've made love and we're still both nude and lying on the rug," the diary said. "What I didn't know until later -- get this -- is that {blank} and {blank} were still there in the outer office and they simply left us alone. I had locked the doors, thank God, but by noon tomorrow, {blank} will know S-1 was with me for the better part of the evening."

Once he knew the investigation was underway, Packwood's diaries took on a more desperate tone. He wrote on Feb. 11, 1993, "I begin to feel the sands crumbling about me. All I'm playing for now is not to be expelled from the Senate. It's not a happy situation."

And it didn't improve. On March 29, 1993, the diary said, Packwood received a "bomb" phone call from his office -- "a motion to produce documents, voluminous documents, memos, correspondence, phone calls, personal papers. I wonder if that includes diaries. Everything. I was scared to death."

Packwood returned to his office and began to examine his papers, concluding "there is some damaging stuff." He reflected, however, that "actually, least of all damaging is probably the diaries, because in it there would be nothing about being a rejected suitor -- only my successful exploits."

By the time Packwood finally appeared before the Senate ethics committee in late June, most of the arrogance was gone. He was ready to acknowledge to his colleagues that he had changed the diaries and to speak about his relations with many of the women who accused him. Still, he said, "You all know me, and I'm not the person that has been painted by the press."

The transcripts of his committee appearance show him eager to please, offering to speak on almost any question, but almost incapable of giving direct answers as senators probed the darkest reaches of his personal life.

"Senator Packwood, are you an alcoholic?" asked Sen. Larry Craig (R-Idaho), on June 28.

"Yes, I think so," Packwood replied. "You hate to admit it, and I hope I never take a drink again, and . . . so far I've made it two years and eight and one-half months."

Craig continued, suggesting that Packwood may have had an alcohol problem during his 1992 campaign, and describing how alcohol contributed to the breakup of his marriage, and his father's alcoholism. All of it was relevant because Packwood attributed many of his misdeeds with women to alcoholic blackouts. "I was a binge drinker," Packwood explained.

The testimony was his last effort to save his job and his reputation, and when he announced his resignation yesterday, his worst fear, voiced in the diaries Jan. 4, 1993, had come true: "Well, I'll say again, if worse comes to worst, if they don't expel me, they can strip me of my seniority, they can punish me, they can make me pay money to the Senate, which I can pay for out of my campaign funds," he said. "I may be reduced in six years to my pension and Social Security, and on that, I will live quite happily." Staff writers Joan Biskupic, Bill Mcallister and R.H. Melton contributed to this report. CAPTION: Packwood stands cheek-to-cheek with Gayle Rothrock in 1969 picture, above, when he was beginning his first term in Senate. Rothrock, who accused Packwood of making imrproper advances, says he grabbed her a gave her a crude kiss after she baby-sat his children. Below, Packwood waves with his wife, Georgie, below, on election night in Portland, Ore., Nov. 4, 1986. CAPTION: Above, Sen. Bob Packwood waves as he and his wife, Georgie, celebrate election night 1986 in Portland, Ore. In 1969 photo at right, taken as he began his first Senate term, Packwood stands cheek-to-cheek with Gayle Rothrock. She later accused Packwood of making improper advances, saying he grabbed her and gave her a crude kiss after she baby-sat his children.