Linda Masters slammed the door of her house behind her and threw her handbag onto the sofa.
"Linda, darling, you're home!" Linda's husband Peter called from somewhere upstairs.
"Don't darling me!" Linda snapped and stomped into the kitchen to make a stiff drink.
As she poured some whisky into a beaker, Linda heard the creak of the stairs as someone tried, ever-so-quietly, to sneak down and out the front door.
"Probably got that slut Daisy with him," Linda snarled and swigged down the whole glass of brandy before storming out of the kitchen to give her husband and his mistress another piece of her mind.
"What do we have here then?" Linda barked at the couple skulking in the hallway, before stopping in her tracks. She paused, not for a reply, but in stunned silence of the spectacle in front of her. Peter and Daisy looked at each other, before Peter went to his wife's side.
"Darling, I can explain!" Peter pleaded with his wife.
"Explain nothing!" Linda held onto her anger, to use it to propel herself out of this conversation and find time to think, and recover from the shock! "I find out about you two, and you don't even have the decency to finish this affair? You really don't care about me at all, do you Peter?"
"But... but Linda, darling," Peter stammered.
"But nothing!" Linda stomped loudly upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom.
Peter turned to Daisy and said sadly, "I think you'd better go for now. I'll talk to her."
Daisy nodded and quietly let herself out the front door.
Linda sat down on the toilet seat with a look of total surprise on her face. That was totally freaky! The instant she saw it she realised the wishing well had granted her desires... but not quite in the way she'd expected! Daisy, if that still was Daisy, looked... well...
Linda flicked a coin into the well and said with a snarl, "I wish that big-boobed bimbo Daisy looked like a man in drag!"
Daisy was at least half a foot taller than she used to be, with broad shoulders and slim hips. She still wore the body-hugging, low-cut and short-skirted dresses she always wore, and it was definitely in keeping with her tastes (ie. pink), but now this outfit emphasised her masculine and muscular body. Of course, she still had those breasts, those big, adulterer's breast that lured her husband away in the first place, but if it wasn't for those and the lack of any telling bulge in the front of her skirt, it's unlikely anyone who saw her would think she was a woman for even a second. Her face had changed too, underneath the make-up it was now a rugged, manly face with a large chin, a bigger nose, an astonishing Adam's apple and the hint of a 5 o'clock shadow. Linda wondered how different Daisy's voice sounded now, and briefly mused about Daisy having to shave her face and her big, bouncy chest...
Just then, Peter knocked on the door and said, "Darling, are you alright?"
"What do you think?" Linda tried to sound angry, but was smirking at Daisy's ridiculous appearance.
"Linda darling, I'm sorry you had to witness that-"
"Yeah, well so am I! Why is she even here Peter?"
"She just came round to talk, we didn't plan on... that... happening at all! We just talked, and-"
"And what?" Linda leant against the door to hear her husband better.
"And we, well," Peter muttered, "she said she loved me and I-"
"Do love her?" Linda barked, her anger returning.
"I... I don't know Linda! But I think I might love her, but I love you as well! I've always loved you..."
"Save it, Peter. If you loved me you wouldn't be fucking someone else!" Linda yelled. "And I can't believe that after I caught you two last time, you just keep screwing her!"
"I never screwed her, Linda."
"What??" Linda said incredulously.
"I never fucked her!" Peter barked back. "You know I didn't!"
"How, pray would I know that?"
"Because I can't fuck anyone Linda, for fuck's sake! There's no need to rub it in!"
Linda grabbed another coin and flung it into the well with force, saying aloud, "and I wish that husband of mine didn't have a dick to sleep around with!"
With sudden realisation, Linda unlocked the bathroom door and opened it for her husband.
"I'm sorry Peter," she said, her lips quivering.
Peter sighed with a huff, "...That's okay Linda."
"Let me see," Linda half-asked, half-ordered. She kneeled down and began to unbuckle Peter's trousers.
"What are you doing?" Peter panicked.
"I need to see!"
Linda pulled her husband's trousers to the floor and reached up for his boxers. With a tug she exposed his groin and gasped. There was no penis there, no testicles, simply a flat crotch with a small, sexless pee-hole hidden behind pubic hair.
Linda broke down into tears, "Oh, I'm sorry Peter, I'm so sorry!!"
She threw herself into his arms. Peter, at a loss for words and terribly confused, silently comforted his wife.
