But as we reached this point of our lives, we had drifted apart. He spend more and more time out on the road with clients, and sometimes I swore that he did it to be away from me. I don't know if I was too needy when he came home, but sometimes I only got to see him Friday night, Saturday, and part of Sunday.

So we almost lead separate parallel lives, only coming together for a time. It wasn't my ideal scenario, but when he retired, things would get better. We had been through some rough times, but we had made it this far. We would find a way.

* * *

One day however, my world was rocked by news that I found out through a chance occurrence. One of Debbie's friends was Janette, and they had been in school together, as well as soccer, ballet, drama club, and even as far back as brownies. They were fast friends. Janette happened to be in town, because her college had the week off. She stopped by with a bouquet of fresh flowers for me. She was very thoughtful.

"Why thank you!" I said, smiling. You didn't have to.

"You were like a second mom to me" said Janette, "so it's the least I can do."

We chatted for a while, caught up on friends, and talked about the old days. Then the topic of my husband came up.

"He looks well" she said.

"Oh, when did you see him?" I asked. He hadn't told me that he saw her. He probably didn't even know who she was, only being our daughter's best friend. He was usually to busy to notice 'unimportant' details like that.

"I saw him yesterday, at Prego's" she said.

"Yesterday? No, he's in Chicago on business."

"No, it was definitely him. He was there with his niece."

"His niece? Which one?"

"The one who is about 26 years old, a six foot tall blond, you know, the one with the big boobies."

"How do you know it's his niece?"

"He told me. I said hello, and he didn't seem to recognize me at first. I said I was Debbie's friend, and then he introduced me to her."

Tears started to well up in my eyes. He didn't have a niece like that. All his nieces had dark hair. And none of them were in their twenties. He was supposed to be out of town. I felt humiliated. I was such a fool! He was cheating on me, right here in town! The tears flowed freely now.

"What's the matter Mrs. Thornton?"

I sobbed out of control. I told her the truth.

"That's terrible! Please, let me know if there is anything at all I can do to help you. I'm so sorry that you had to find out this way."

I thanked her, and she knew that she had to leave so that I could have some time to myself. I laid down and cried myself to sleep.

* * *

For two days I moped around. He would be home tomorrow, and how could I even look him in the eye? I could see what he was up to. If I got in a fight with him, he'd sue for divorce, and run off with that young thing. I went into his den, opened his desk (he didn't know that I had the combination to his lock!), and went through his papers.

We were supposed to have over $500,000 saved up in his retirement plan, as well as stocks, bonds and CDs. I went through his papers, but the numbers didn't add up. He must have been hiding his money. He must have moved it somewhere that I couldn't get at it if we did break up. I'd be poor, having never worked while I raised the children, but he'd be off in the tropics with some hussy young enough to be his daughter. It didn't take a genius to figure out where this was heading.

I had to do something. This week, when he came home. I had to make sure that he could not go through with his plan. I had to take action, now!

I stayed up all night considering different options. I couldn't kill him (although I almost felt angry enough to do that!), so it had to be something that would make him stick with me. But what did I have to offer, when he had a 26 year old blond bimbo? We hadn't had sex in years. He said he was impotent, and he didn't want to go on viagra. So I was limited to my vibrator.

He must be doing something with her though. I had to find a way to make her not want him anymore. Something that would scare her away. Then he would be mine again. I needed to find a way to control him.

After hours and hours, a smile came to my face. I knew what I was going to do. I went shopping, and bought the supplies I would need.

* * *

He came home around 9:30pm on Friday. Of course, he had said he'd be home at 6, so I had made dinner for him. It was cold now, and he said that his flight was late, so he ate at the airport. I bet that if I called the airlines, his flight would have been on time. I bet he got in, had a quickie with *her*, and then came home.

But I pretended to believe him. It was critical that he didn't suspect anything was wrong. Yet.

"Oh you poor dear, travel can be so hard on you. Why don't you sit down, and I'll fix you a drink." I said.

He nodded, and headed to the easy chain in the family room. He picked up the remote and started flicking through the channels.

I brought him his favorite: scotch and water, on the rocks. However, I added in an extra ingredient today. I had dissolved several sleeping tablets into the scotch, and one other special additive. I made sure to use brands that had very little or no taste. I only put a dash of it into his first drink, so he wouldn't notice the different taste very much. Then I could load up the second.

He grunted when I handed him the glass, instead of even saying "thank you". I ignored it, and sipped my wine while asking him about his day. He was more interested in reading the paper, so I just watched the TV.

When his glass got low, I went to get him another.

"Use a new glass. I think I tasted some detergent on that one. Rinse it off better next time" he said.

"Yes dear" I replied.

I brought him his second drink, and made it stronger. Both with the alcohol, and with my additives. He sipped it down, and even sucked on the ice when the glass was empty. I smiled. He was in trouble now.

Within fifteen minutes, he complained of being groggy.

"You must be tired dear. Let me help you up to bed."

He agreed, so I helped him upstairs. He would have stumbled and fell if I had just left him alone. I hoped I hadn't made it too strong. What if he died in his sleep? Oh well, too bad for him then! I hated to have such a cold heart, but this was entirely his fault.

We got to the top of the stairs, and I had to practically drag him.

"Why don't I put you to be here dear. It's too far to our room."

"OK" he mumbled, slurring his words now. I put him to bed in the girl's room. Within five minutes, he was out like a light. It was time to get to work on him.

* * *

When Sean woke up, he was still very groggy. I was sitting by his side, holding his hand. He looked up at me weakly.

"What's wrong? I feel so weak" he said.

"That's to be expected" I replied.

"What do you mean?" he said, struggling to talk.

"I told you that much estrogen at first might make you weak, as it acted on your body."

"What the hell do you mean?" he said, angry now.

"Don't you remember last night?" I said.

"No..."

He tried to search his mind, but he was drawing a blank.

"Last night, after you had your drinks. You told me about your deepest desire. Your inner calling. And we started you down the path you wanted."

"What path?" he said.

"Don't you remember?"

"No! Out with it woman. What is going on?"

"Last night dear. We came upstairs, and you told me that you wanted to change your life. I was supportive of you, as always, so I helped you. You told me how hard it is to be a man, and how you wish with all your heart that you were a woman. You said..."

"I said no such thing!" he roared, but started coughing. It took too much energy to do that.

"Yes you did dear. That's why we did all those things last night."

"What things?" he said weakly.

I stood up, pulled the covers off of him, and let him look at himself.

"My god!" he said in disbelief.

When I had moved him into the bed, I had gone to work. I had used my Nair to remove all of his body hair. I rubbed him all over with scented creams and lotions. I cut off his clothes, put him into panties and a bra (stuffed with a set of falsies I bought at the drug store), after applying a generous dose of breast cream on him. Then I struggled to get him into a nightie. I painted his nails, both fingers and toes. I put jewelry on him. I covered him with perfume, and applied more during the night.

I whispered into his hear all night, telling him that he was a woman now. I planted suggestions in his head. I gave him new desires, and new thoughts. From time to time, I'd go to sleep, then wake up, and work on him some more. He slept in until after 10:00, and by now, the suggestions I had given him must be sinking in. If that book I read had any truth to it.

"What have you done to me?" he said.

"Me? *You* did all that. I just helped you, and gave you pointers. Don't you remember?"

"No" he said weakly.

"You told me that you wished you were a woman, and that you wanted to go by the name Seana now. You asked me to help you. You took almost half a bottle of my estrogen pills! Don't you remember? What's wrong with you?" I said, as if hurt.

"I....I...." he stammered. Thinking of having just taken massive doses of female hormones really shocked him. In fact, he hadn't taken any pills, except the ones I had dissolved into his drink. So in reality, he did take two weeks worth of female hormones, all at once.

Now the book I had read told me about how a person who is in a semi-sleep state, like he should have been from the booze and the pills, should be very open to suggestion. It told how to plant a suggestion, and how to trigger one when the person comes to again. I sure hoped that it worked, otherwise my plan might only have limited effectiveness.

"Come on Seana, lets get you downstairs for some breakfast. Maybe you'll feel better if you get some food in you."

"OK" he said, as he struggled to get out of bed. He put his feet into the fluffy pink slippers I had laid out for him, and came downstairs with me.

He looked like such an idiot in a nightie, wearing a bra stuffed with fake boobs. But he didn't even seem to notice, or do anything to get out of the clothes. So far, so good.

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