Gorey Chucho ka doodh (white cow milk)
It was that time of the month. Aunt Flow was visiting. There are a whole lot of commercials that talk about having a happy period, a whole lot of books from women talking about the miracle of the red tent. The truth is, I feel like crap. I cramp, nothing fits, I feel tired, I smell, my hoo-hah is a tender unwelcoming and uncooperative place, and I get clumsy. Maybe this is miraculous to someone, but I find it about as much fun as midterms, but graduation will not be until somewhere in my fifties.
My name is Michaela Glasgo, a Petroleum Engineering grad student at UBC, and right now I am getting my period therapy from Vivek, my boss at Ashlil Vishar. My boss, my Sahib, my lover. I was working my nerve up to call him something else, which is hard because my period therapy from Vivek is pretty intense.
The nipple clamps were painful and the chain on them was weighted with little bells that tinkled to match the great cowbell at my collar every time Vivek spanked my ass. My ass was as read as my cheeks, and in between spanks, he would slide a finger, then two into my tight little asshole.
When I was ready, he pushed the big anal plut into my ass that would stretch me the entire shift, and react every time Vivek hit the control over my period panties. My period panties had a vibrator in them, and Vivek had it keyed to his phone or the Ipad at the desk, to trigger my vibrator whenever he felt like it, or whenever it looked like I was cramping.
This sounds stupid, but it worked. I normally am useless during my period, but Vivek helped me to work through it. Today I wasn’t even working, but Vivek was letting me (making me) study in the store as with his help I can stay on task and get my work done, even during my period.
The only downside is I get spanked sometimes for trying to seduce him because the constant awareness of the Hindu maleness of him makes me forget all the ills of my hormone storm driven womb cleaning, at the cost of really wanting a big brown soother to suck on. He finds it funny, and his wife finds it “cute”. I don’t know what I would do if she decided I was a problem in their marriage. She is a good Hindu wife and that isn’t something I can ever compete with.
Mem Sahib Sitta and her sister Suella came into the store and both were staring at me. I froze, dropping the Ipen I was using to make notes on my Ipad. Was this it, was this the day her family decided that little white whore had to go? I felt terror well up, tears. They spoke in a rush of Hindi to Vivek, glancing at me.
Vivek smiled and hugged them both. He patted both on the head and lead them over to me with a big smile that set my heart at ease.
“Michaela my pretty little thing, my wife needs to ask for a favour for her family. It would please me greatly if you would agree, but it is not part of your job here, nor am I ordering you to do it. You are a free woman after all.”
He laughed, and I blushed. Did he know? Did he suspect?
Mem Sahib Sitta, Sahib Vivek’s wife practically dragged her sister Suella to me. She smiled in that motherly fashion and told me what she needed.
“My sister Suella just gave birth, but due to a medical condition she is not able to breast feed. She has heard Vivek and her husband rave about your breasts, and since my Vivek is so fond of calling you his little white cow, Suella wonders if you could help her with her baby’s needs.”
Suella looked angry and ashamed. She glared at me.
“Let me see them. I am not letting a baby of mine chew on some fake plastic Barbie. My husband is a doctor and believes in the natural superiority of breast milk, but I do not trust these bimbo sluts and their fake tits like the sluts next door!” Suella snapped, gesturing with her head to the strip club Mleccha next door.
Mem Sahib Sitta stroked my hair and cheek and soothed me.
“Suella no, Michaela is a Good Girl. She can’t help being a white slut, but had the good sense to seek a proper caregiver to keep her focused on her studies. She knows her place and would never think of interfering in a sacred Hindu marriage. Besides, I have trained her a bit myself. She is a very attentive personal maid for those days you feel like pampering yourself.”
Vivek laughed, having enjoyed watching his wife train me to please a woman. Lesbianism was frowned on in their family, but having a servant look after your needs was no different than using a vibrator. Having your husband’s servant serve you was almost like an extension of your husband touching you.
I blushed bright scarlet, but in the middle of the store, I pulled off my Ashlil Vishar tube top and let the two sisters play with my 48E breasts, making my cow bell clang.
Sitta hefted one, Suella the other.
“Natural cow, look at the great udders on her. Look at these nipples, so easy to latch onto. Try it.” Sitta matched words to deeds and took my nipple in her mouth causing me to moan in bliss. Vivek slapped my ass, then his wife’s in amusement, chuckling softly.
I felt Suella take my breast in her mouth and suck. I bit my lip, whimpering, but I tried to press my body against hers almost instinctively.
“She is a little white slut isn’t she?” Suella muttered. She let go my breast and gave it a slap, then another, then a third, watching my whtie breasts dance and setting my cow bell to clanging.
“Gods above, I am almost doing you a favour. You are like a cow with feet. Listen, my husband is a doctor and he will be coming to give you a hormone shot to get your milk coming in. You can get Vivek to help bring your milk supply up. I want to make sure you are able to produce enough milk not only for daily use, but so I can have stock on hand fresh if we have to travel.
We are wealthy, and you are a poor student yes? You were complaining about not being able to fly back to see your family. I will fix this. Every time you supply milk, you will be paid. I want electronic records so I can claim it on my taxes, and I will not be cheated. Vivek, you will handle it and any other milk she makes is yours to do with as you choose.”
Everyone relaxed and began to talk about the baby, their first son and very important to the family. All I could think about is what she had called me. A white cow. White cow for Hindu bulls. I am from Northern Alberta and know cows. You see them in the pens, or in the field. Each one marked with a big numbered ear tag with their number on it.
Trembling, I called up a picture on my phone.
I tugged on Vivek’s sleeve and showed him the picture of the cow with the ear tag.
He looked shocked, then smiled and showed it to the sisters. They gave me a very calculating look. I cast my eyes down and Suella came over to me.
She pulled my face up to meet her. “You really know your place, you really don’t see yourself as competition for either my sister or I do you? What do you see yourself as?”
I blushed and blurted the truth. “Livestock. I see myself as Sahib Vivek’s white cow.”
Two days later, having had my shot and my breasts already feeling tender, I was back at The Delights of Goa, where Devesh was piercing my ear with a great yellow tag with my Ashlil Vichars employee number (138) and a computer chip in it.
“Alright, I have you set up in my system. Anyone in the restaurant or through our mobile ap can order Gorey Chucho ka doodh (White Milk) through the ap and be able to scan your ear tag with their phone to complete the sale. I have stock bottles here for when you come by for your milking and they have are set up as the “ten pack” option, so Suella can pay for the milk you bottle for her.”
Kneeling in the frame, my collar clipped to the lead chain, I was naked on all fours with the pumps put on my breast. Devesh and Vivek were stroking my back and ass as the milk started to pour out of me. The frame had a nice cushion under my mid chest and belly that left my body supported, and a vibrator on the top of my clit. The rings connecting the top and bottom of my collar fixed my face forward, and left my mouth slightly open as I struggled with the sensations filling my body.
I felt the first finger slip into my pussy, and pushed back against it. Devesh cupped my face,, and I started kissing his hands, sucking the finger he offered to my mouth.
“I think we need to set up some add ons for standard Gorey Chucho ka doodh (White Milk).” Devesh offered.
Vivek started lapping at my dripping pussy, then stuck his finger deep before tasting it.
“Honey milk? madhu doodh? He offered as he rubbed his hard Hindu cock against my needy slut hole. I pushed and pushed back, but my collar just let my bell clang and clang as I couldn’t pull back against the frame and collar enough to force that amazing mind breaking king of cobras into me.”
Devesh fed me his cock, taking his belt from his pants and doubling it to whip my back as he rammed his hard Hindu cock down my white throat. “Whip cream” He laughed “chabuk cream”
Vivek wiggled the plug in my ass “Chocolate doodh is off the menu though. Do you hear me little cow? Your ass is mine.”
I came so hard I sprayed down my legs. Devesh pulled back and sprayed my face and hair.
I twitched and shook as the milking machine drew pulse after pulse of white milk from me.
Gorey Chucho ka doodh. White Milk.
What do I have to say about this?
“Moooooooo!” I cried as Hindu cock pumped into me, and white milk pumped out.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uempj8/ashlil_vichar_final_obscene_thoughts_fm_mdom_bdsm