My name is Jan, your average new mother. My husband and I were both teachers when we got married. We decided it was time to have kids, and we tried for almost two years before I was able to get pregnant. I checked with the doctor and he said I was super fertile, so the problem was not on my end. When our new daughter came she was such a joy, but with my husband's low and declining sperm count likely the last miracle we would know.

I had always been proud of my body. I had been very athletic, both in the pool and in dance until the advance of my breasts rendered me noncompetitive, and I turned to more academic focus. Then Kay came along. I love my baby, but since Kay has been born, Roger my husband won't look at me, he can't stand to be in the same room when I am breast feeding, and he hasn't laid a finger on my for anything except guiding me out of his way as he passed through since I brought Kay home from the hospital.

I fell into a deep depression, I didn't eat, couldn't sleep. My milk production was building, but I worried about the quality when I couldn't be bothered to eat. I hated my body, I could never leave the house, I had no where to go. My husband retained the life we shared as a teacher, but now I had nothing. Not even a husband, as he found my post birth body shameful to look upon, and unclean to touch.

I would never harm my baby, but there comes a point where failing to take care of yourself becomes harm to the baby. I was in the back yard, crying. Vivek was bouncing on his trampoline, which he did for the sheer joy of it. He was only in his shorts, his dark Hindu body muscled and hairy like a mans, not soft white and hairless like the good Christian white bread chinless boy-man that my husband was.

"Hey Vixin, what's up with your fine MILF self" Vivek shouted as he bounced. He could see I was locked in a downward spiral and he was always trying to tease me out of it. He called me Vixin, the name for a female fox because he claimed I had red hair like a fox and was too foxy for my wimp of a husband. Vivek was kind, but I didn't believe him.

I turned to look at him, and my breath caught. He was framed against the sun, his dark abs and hairy chest dark potent shadows against the sun that crowned him. As he bounced on the trampoline, his manhood bounced visibly in the loose shorts. I was a married woman, and I dated three men before I married Roger so I was no stranger to male genetalia. My heart stopped and my brain short circuited as I watched Vivek, and noted his penis, not hard or it wouldn't be flopping, was already both longer and thicker than my Roger's at its peak. Likewise the heavy ball sack that bounced beneath it looked to be the size of a large orange or grapefruit, not the shriveled walnut that clung desperately to Roger's pink penis.

A wave of desire rolled over me, followed by a wave of self-hatred, because who could love or desire me? Nothing but a disgusting milk cow, not even worth a pity fuck from her husband. I felt my knees go weak and slumped to the ground. I began to weep softly, helplessly. There was no point anymore. No point at all.

Vivek opened the gate that joined our yards to access our shared composter. He came to stand over me, his heavy cock and balls swinging to right beside my nose. I looked up at him and Vivek smiled.

"When is the last time you ate, Jan?" His voice was stern, so I answered truthfully.

"I had something for breakfast yesterday, I think" I whispered.

Vivek laughed and pulled my chin up to look into his smiling face, his dark eyes burned into my blue ones and I found my endless cycle of depression stopped dead as Vivek looked INTO me for a timless moment. I was suddenly very aware of the hard muscles of his thighs and stomach, the smell of sweat and manhood on him that made my body tremble. I felt my engorged nipples start to weep with milk and my blouse stain again. I felt the reflexive shame at the display start, but stop dead when Vivek's next words slammed into me with a shock.

"Your problem, my sexy little Vixin, is that you need some sweet Indian balls in your mouth, a belly full of their goodness and my little redhead won't look so pale and frail anymore"

I felt my anger begin to rise that he would proposition me in such a crude manner, when he held out a tuperware container in front of my face and opened it. Inside were a dozen baked treats, looking like doughnut holes soaked in some sort of syrup.

"Have some Gulab Jamuns, some sweet Indian balls in that white belly of yours will make you a new woman, or at least give me back the laughing beautiful one I miss" He waggled his dark eyebrows so outrageously in the double entendre that I had to laugh.

We moved into the house so I could listen for Kay to wake and need changing or feeding. Sitting at the table and having some adult conversation I realized how hungry I had been for it. Having some of the Gulab Jamuns reminded me how hungry I had been in total. I began puttering about the kitchen, fixing a lunch for both of us.

There was no hiding how Vivek's eyes never left me. Roaming happily up and down my body, his grin and laughter were his only answer when I accused him of ogling a married woman. As we began to eat, I confessed what had been bothering me. I found myself telling Vivek how Roger was disgusted by my body since childbirth, how he could not be in the same room when I breast fed. How the breasts that used to entice him now disgusted him, and he could not stand to see me without panties anymore, even though it took him over a year to get me to take them off for him in the first place.

Vivek looked angry for the first time I have ever seen. He tried to speak three times, but cut himself off when the words began to come out hot and angry. His voice awakened Kay and she began to cry. I went to get her, and told Vivek he could stay in the kitchen, I would feed Kay in the living room. I knew how disgusting I looked breast feeding, Roger had made it quite clear I was a revolting animal when I breast fed.

My black nursing blouse allowed me to pull each breast out individually, and the nursing bra popped the cups out while staying in place. I had to feed Kay on each, as I over produced. I produced so much I was pumping for the public Health unit to give to mothers with a poor supply. Thus it was that both my breasts were out and only one had my daughter on it when Vivek came into he room.

His eyes were on mine, burning into me.

"This is the most beautiful a woman can look, a life giving goddess, you have never been more perfect, more desirable" Vivek's words shook with emotion, and I felt a sob escape me. My breasts on the other hand began to engorge even more fully as a desire responded to the open desire in his eyes and voice by connecting all the nerves in my nipples directly to my pussy.

My despair was not so swift to let go, so I shouted at him from the depth of my pain.

"I am a disgusting cow, you can't pretend otherwise, no man would touch me!" I shouted, which caused Kay to take a deeper stronger hold on my right nipple as she was not going to allow my hysterics to interfere with the serious business of lunch.

Vivek knelt in front of me, his eyes on mine, his left hand snaking out to cup my neck and turn my head to face him as he spoke again, so quietly.

"The cow is sacred to Hindu, and the mother too is sexual. We do not share your Virgin Mary. Our goddesses know love, make love, give love. You have been lied to. You have all this love inside, and you have been told you cannot give it, that no one wants it. Well, you don't have to give it. Let me take it, let me teach you what you have forgotten. Be my Vixin, and I will teach you beauty again"

As Vivek spoke his right hand closed around my left breast. His hands worked to feel my breasts and I whimpered as my panties grew damp with need, an my body arched towards Vivek, acknowledging the need for the divine masculine that his invocation of the divine feminine had awakened.

His lips came down and claimed my nipple, his hand working my whole breast into his mouth as I felt my body burn, driving my mind into an abyss of howling need as his lips sucked, tongue teased, and soon, teeth nipped at my sensitive breasts. I began rocking, writhing, unable to stay still or quiet. With the perversity of baby's everywhere, this put Kay straight to sleep, still with my right nipple in her mouth.

Vivek brought his face up to me and KISSED me. I have been with less than a handful of men, been kissed many times. One black man, the rest white men, but until Vivkek, I had never been truly kissed. He took my breath, my reserve, my chastity away with one burning kiss. I pushed myself into his arms, trying to press my body to his even though I was sitting and he kneeling.

One gentle slap to my face, and Vivek said sternly.

"Go put your baby to bed, then take off your clothes, and come back here. I do not ask you, I tell you to do this, do you understand" I nodded.

I tucked Kay into her crib, looking down on her with love, not quiet despair like earlier today. Vivek was waking something in me, and I didn't understand it. I touched the handprint from his slap, and looked for anger. There was none. I was hurting myself, he stopped me.

I peeled out of my clothes and hurried down to the living room. Vivek was there, naked. How can I describe it? I was not Eve in the Christian garden looking for Adam she had been made for. I was a married white woman, stripping naked in my own home to present myself to my Hindu neighbor to do with as he pleased.

Vivek was no white man. His body was burnished bronze, like some temple statue. Darker, deeper, richer and far more real than Roger could ever be. His muscles were heavy and smooth, not a body builders show, but a man's rough potency. His chest and belly had dark hair that again called to my inner woman and whispered powerful, potent, masterful. His ass, oh his ass was beautiful. A pure functional curve of muscle, it had the elegance of simplicity, the arrogance of primitive power and the sensuality of every wicked thought I had ever had.

He turned as I came in, and I gasped. His penis was almost fully hard, the head was twice the size of Rogers, but it looked almost small as the shaft tapered to half its length growing it seemed a centimeter thicker for every two centimeters of length. There was a lot of length.

At its thickest it was the thickness of my wrist, tapering down again towards the base. This was a cock designed to take and hold a vagina like conquered territory. This was a woman tamer, this was a will breaker. I heard the moan escape from my lips. I cast my eyes down, and that was a mistake, for beneath that god of a cock hung the balls of a breeding bull. Hairy and full, his sack swung beneath with the dark potency of the Hindu race, the matchless depth of Indian history and culture, a proud and ancient race when her own ancestors first realized you could drink out of those skulls you took. Unlike her white husband Roger, all that potency still sprouted from his dark majestic balls. No low sperm count here, just Hindu male potency. As potent as my white womb was fertile.

"You are so beautiful, and I am so ugly, I am embarrassed for you to see me this way" I gushed miserably.

"ENOUGH, you need to be taught a lesson. Too long have I tolerated this self-abuse from you. No longer. I will not allow it. Do you hear? You will not hear my words, then you will feel my punishment. No more self-hatred, no more lies. You are beautiful, you are sexy, you are desirable, you are a perfect white goddess whom any man worthy of the name would ravish day and night in every manner and position known to the gods, and still not have enough of you, DO YOU HEAR ME!"

As he spoke, he spanked me. Pulled over his lap, his hard Hindu hands raining down on my pale ass cheeks like whips, like scourges. I felt the burn as my ass turned red, but the burn was worse in my pussy. His hard cock pushed up my belly, rubbing along the underside of my breasts as he spanked me.

Spanking turned into SLAP, then caress, SLAP then fingers probe my wetness, SLAP fingers tease my aching clit, SLAP fingers probe my tight pink butthole. The slaps became softer and my whimpering became louder. I wiggled and wiggled, unable to stay still as Vivek brought me to orgasm with a finger in my ass and both of my wrists locked in his hand behind my back.

Letting me slump from his lap as the orgasm left me shaking, I slid down his legs, only to see his rock hard Hindu cock rise before me like an altar to worship, to sacrifice to. I did not think cold not think. I reached out with my mouth and caught the head of his cock with my mouth and looked up at him, his hard Hindu cock in my married white mouth, and began to face fuck myself on his dark dominant rod.

Soon his hand was back, massaging my breast, working and expressing my milk, then dribbling it from his hand over his cock. I got the hint and began to express milk from my nipples over his cock before taking him in my mouth. It was divine, it was amazing. I was an animal, I was a slut, but I was his slut, his animal, his cow to be milked.

He yanked me off his cock by my hair just as I felt him swell and his balls began to twitch. I was robbed the chance to see if I could swallow a load like that by Vivek's desire to cover my breasts with his cum. As I had been milked to cover him, so he milked himself to cover me.

As he finished, I took him in my mouth to clean him off. I knew a man was only good for once every couple of days, so I would have time to recover before I had to worry about if I was going to allow this again.

I was right about white men, but not a proud Hindu bull. I had been sucking Vivek's cock, then his balls. He rolled over onto his stomach and without really thinking about it, I rolled over his leg to crawl between them, and part his cheeks.

As I had been sucking his cock, now I began to suck his ass. My tongue teasing, tasting, testing, and finally probing his dark asshole. I felt his breathing change and he began to push his ass up into my face. I reached down around his ass and found his cock beginning to harden again. Whimpering at this display of Hindu potency, I grew frenzied and drove deeper into Vivek's ass, driving my tongue like a spear until enough of his sphincter has relaxed that I could stretch it to reach Vivek's prostate, behind his balls, at the root of his manhood.

I almost blacked out, I was in such a frenzy that I forgot to breathe. It was only Vivek's own hand hauling me out his ass by my hair that saved me. With a growl Vivek pushed me face down on the carpet, knees and ass up, face to the ground, I felt his sock push against my cheek, driving me face first into the ground. He rasped.

"My little Vixin, you are wasted on that pathetic white Christian loser. From now on you will fuck only Hindu bulls, and only the ones I give you permission for. I will teach you how to please men again, I will teach you how to love yourself again, I will paint you with my cum until you see the goddess I do when I look at you. I will take the whip to you if I need to, but I will break you of this self hatred, do you understand me SLUT!"

I didn't know what to say, but then I felt it, the bronze battering ram of his bitch breaker, his wife tamer, the all-conquering cock of the Hindu bull about to take a white cow forever as his own. He gave a sigh, and pushed into me. I felt him expand, thicker, harder, hotter than anything I have used, even toys.

Then he began to move. Oh, if you have never had a Hindu take you fully for the first time, you have no idea what I was going through. He wasn't just fucking me, he was branding me as his own, his slut, his slave. I could not keep quiet, could hide nothing, hold back nothing.

"Please please fuck me Vivek. I promise to be a good white bitch for you, I swear I will do whatever it takes to please you, to please whoever you tell me too, just please Vivek, please give me your strong Hindu seed in my married white pussy."

Two loads he gave me. One doggy style, ramming me into submission, grinding me into the ground, breaking my will, breaking my fidelity to my husband, my church, my race. The second was his gift to me, his accepting of the gift of me. If the first had been taking a slave, the second had been cherishing her, cherishing me.

He sat on the floor, cock jutting out proudly, he took my hips, and held me as I lowered myself onto his magnificent cock one more time.

He lay back flat as I settled into cowgirl position to ride my bull like a good white cowgirl. As I did, Vivek's hands began to milk my breasts, letting my milk run down my breasts into the red hair above my pussy.

As I rocked back and forth on his bronze cock, he whispered non stop.

"Beautiful milk maid, I rub it on your skin, rub it on my skin, rub it into your clit. Rub it into your lips, let my cock take it deeper in you. Your milk flowing to where my milk will be, helping my seeds to grow as I put a baby in that white belly of yours."

God help me, I came. I wanted Vivek's baby so badly.

I was still cumming all over his cock when Vivek roared his own release and pumped me full of seed. I collapsed on top of him and we both fell asleep in a tangled mess.

I don't hate myself anymore. I love and am loved. I give love and pleasure both. Love to my Master, and pleasure to his friends, and recently, to his old father for a birthday present. I am Vivek's slave. His tattoo on my back, my traditional white girl tramp stamp is a stylized Trident with Vivek's name graven on it. I am not sure yet, but my belly is getting fuller, my appetite higher, and I am hornier than ever. It may well be that between my breast feeding of Vivek, my pussies milking of him may have paid off.

I had best get used to breast feeding, as I feel in the next nine months there may well be another baby, this one the bronze of a Hindu god. I am never depressed anymore. I save my milk for the lunchtime shows so I can put on a good show for Vivek. Sometimes he texts that someone will be by to keep me warm until his return. I make sure they leave satisfied and will tell Vivek what good care I took of them, they have to use condoms, because breeding me is only for Vivek..

Vivek has promised me after the first positive pregnancy test, he will take my virgin ass to celebrate. I can't wait. I make sure to show my jeweled butt plug to Vivek as I masturbate for the camera in his lunch time show. He will know I am his devoted slave, and the day I become mother of his children, he will take the last portion of me for his own.

Motherhood did not make me ugly, white male fragility made me hate myself. I thank each and every one of the ten thousand names of god that they sent me a Hindu bull to save me from my white self hatred. Oops, the lens is wet again. I don't know if that was milk, or I squirted. Master has that effect.