On the bed, the man grabbed my hair and shoved two fingers into my mouth, stirring them around.

I was forced to tilt my head back, as drool slowly dripped from the corners of my mouth...

My name is Violet, and I'm a newlywed woman.

I love my husband very much, and we are very compatible in bed, both of us having high sex drives.

For a long time after we got together, I was incredibly happy. Sometimes, we wouldn't leave the bed for an entire day.

But I never imagined that after a car accident, my husband would be unable to get an erection anymore.

I tried all sorts of methods, but none of them worked. That was until one night, I took inspiration from a porn scene, pretending to be a frustrated wife, panting in his ear while narrating a sordid story. I described how, at the gym, my personal trainer groped me while I was doing squats. I told him how he barged into the shower, pinned me against the wall, and molested me, and how I eventually gave in to those degrading acts.

For a brief moment, my husband regained his masculinity.

Unfortunately, it lasted only half a minute.

The doctor explained that this was due to a powerful psychological trigger that temporarily alleviated his physical dysfunction. He suggested we consider trying even more intense forms of "therapy."

That evening, my husband mysteriously pulled out a skirt. "Honey, wear this skirt tonight and come with me to the park. We'll take the subway."

I put the dress on and stood in front of the mirror. As soon as I saw myself, my face flushed with embarrassment.

"How am I supposed to go out like this? It feels so shameless," I muttered, feeling too shy to even look up.

The dress wasn't revealing in the sense that it showed my private parts, but it was so tight that it outlined every curve of my breasts and hips. The thin fabric barely covered my buttocks, clinging so closely it was almost transparent.

Despite the embarrassment, I couldn't refuse. After all, this was about my husband's health and, frankly, my own sexual satisfaction for the rest of my life. So, as a dutiful wife, I obliged, swapping my underwear for a white thong to avoid any visible panty lines.