Wilder Needs: A BDSM Erotic Anthology
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About this ebook
A Collection of Marian Wilder BDSM Erotic Stories.
Arousobot A1.03:
In the far future, the Arousobot A1.03 will become the most sought-after sex toy on the market, but one of them has just shown up out of the blue in the kitchen of Claire Walsh's modern day home. Where did it come from? How did it get there? Who left it? More importantly, will Claire get a chance to try it out before its owner comes to retrieve it?
Mary and the Cane:
Witch Hill College takes pride in its adherence to the old-fashioned methods of teaching. Its board of management uses this as a selling point—old ways are best, and so forth—and there is certainly no shortage of financially stable, traditional minded parents who view the place as the ideal establishment to which to send their daughters for further education.
Discipline is the order of the day in Witch Hill. After all, a young lady of eighteen or nineteen needs discipline in her life in order to embrace the ways of the modern world and to ultimately achieve success in life.
However, when Mary first arrives at the college, little does she expect that the discipline they refer to so openly is akin to the regime of corporal discipline one might expect to encounter in old English institutions up until the mid-twentieth century: the discipline of the cane, strap, and paddle. Ill-informed is ill prepared, but what could prepare a hitherto sheltered rich girl for what awaited her on her very first day in her new class?
Urge:
Stephanie Kenny has a serious crush on her college lecturer, and she will go to the naughtiest of lengths to have him for herself.
Patrick Byron is a happily married man who values both his family and his reputation, and he is in no way impressed with Stephanie's dangerous approaches. In desperation, he turns to Miss Willoughby, the stern headmistress of the college, to help him out. Being a keen disciplinarian, Miss Willoughby is only too happy to oblige when it comes to setting bratty young ladies on the right path, and she soon devises a lesson that poor Stephanie will not soon forget
Prepared and Presented:
The fifth of each month holds a position of special importance in the lives of Jacqueline and Peter. It is the date on which they typically set aside the worries and stresses of everyday life, close the door on the rest of the world, and focus solely on each other.
Jacqueline is a wonderful storyteller, and she loves to entertain her husband with tales of her own creation, the juciest of which are reserved for the night of the famous fifth.
The story: ~ While Jacqueline and her best friend, Marie, are vacationing in Spain, the two girls find themselves forcibly taken to a secret mansion by a group of anonymous disciplinarians. There, Jacqueline is made to undergo a night of strict training in the ways of pleasing a Master -- or in this case, her husband -- while Marie has her own trials to deal with.~
But is everything really as it seems?
-----
Author's Note:These stories contain themes of a sexual nature, including bondage, domination, and erotic roleplay. If you are offended by any of these, then do not buy.
If not, then please purchase here, climb onboard the roller coaster, and enjoy!
Marian Wilder
Marian Wilder welcomes you to her world of erotic 'Damsel In Distress' novels and stories.Her subject material sometimes wanders towards the darker side of erotica, but if you enjoy a generous helping of bondage and erotic discipline with your fiction, then this is the place to be.Please check back often for new releases and updates.FACEBOOK here: https://www.facebook.com/marian.wilder1TWITTER here: @SpankingTalesGOODREADS here: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15270490.Marian_WilderMarian welcomes comments regarding her stories and novels (ONLY) at spankingtales@gmail.com
Read more from Marian Wilder
Dystopian Domestic Discipline Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsJudicial Tales: The Substitute Spankee Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsJudicial Tales: The Corrections Officer Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPunished in the Convent Yard Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPrepared and Presented Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Haircut for Haley Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Trip to the Confessional Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsArousobot A1.03: Female Version Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMy Boss is a Right Bitch Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsJudicial Tales: Tantrum Resolution Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsEnslaved by a Dark Angel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDiary of an Online Dater Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMary and the Cane Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Wilder Needs - Marian Wilder
Wilder Needs
~ A BDSM Erotic Anthology ~
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Arousobot A1.03
Mary and the Cane
Urge
Prepared and Presented
Compilation Copyright 2024 Marian Wilder.
Smashwords Edition License Notes:
No part of this e-book may be reproduced in any form without the written prior permission of the author, except for brief quotations used for promotional purposes or in reviews.
This e-book is for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be copied, resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with others, then please purchase an additional copy for each person.
Thank you for understanding and respecting the hard work of the author.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, incidents, and places are fictitious. Any resemblances to persons or businesses are entirely coincidental.
Adult Topics: Please use discretion.
This e-book is intended for mature readers only (18+) as it contains themes of a sexual nature.
Find more Marian Wilder stories here:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/MarianWilder
~ Arousobot A1.03 - Female Version ~
©Marian Wilder 2022
Claire Walsh pushed back the covers, grumbling in a half-awake state. She wasn’t sure if it had been something downstairs—most likely Felix her cat messing about if it had—or something outside that had woke her up. Either way, whatever it had been deserved a good kicking. It had no business screwing up the only decent bit of sex she had had in ages, even if her lovers had only visited in a dream.
Still horny from being sandwiched between Mr. Elba and Mr. Gosling, she pulled on her dressing gown and made her way to the bedroom window. Nothing happening in the front garden, nothing happening in the street beyond. The house’s perimeter alarm hadn’t gone off, so that just left Felix. How dare the little bugger? Had he no consideration for the sexually deprived?
She was just about to return to her bed, hoping against hope that her two friends would still be there waiting for her, when her drowsy mind registered the beam of light filtering between the bedroom door and the threshold. That can’t be right, she thought; cats can’t turn on lights.
Intrigued, but not particularly nervous, she opened the door. The source of the glow was coming from downstairs, so she must have left either the hall light or the kitchen light on when she came to bed; not surprising given how tired she had been.
She began to make her way down but something strange struck her. The light seemed a good deal brighter than she would have expected, and it appeared to be pulsing slightly. The first pangs of apprehension began to slip through the veil of doziness and she paused, considering going back upstairs to grab her phone in the event of having to call for assistance.
She listened closely. Nothing. At least, nothing was moving. Maybe she had left the fridge open? Yes, that was it; it was the fridge light. She sucked in a breath and descended the rest of the way, pausing only briefly before entering the kitchen.
It wasn’t the fridge. What it was, in fact, was a shiny, rugged metal box, similar to a small flight case, which somebody had placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. Somebody, but who? It certainly hadn’t been there earlier, and clearly nobody had made their way inside: that would be impossible without tripping the house alarm.
The box measured about a foot and a half cubed, and the light was coming from an overly-bright screen on its nearest side. Dancing gaily across that screen were the strange words ‘Arousobot A1.03 - Female Version. Touch screen for instructions.’
I’m still asleep, thought Claire. That’s it. I’m still dreaming. She went to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. She turned around, but the strange box was still there. She pinched herself. The painful action resulted in the same outcome; it was still there, its screen still displaying the same message.
Touch screen for instructions.
Claire looked around her. This had to be some kind of prank. If so, who was playing it? If she touched that screen, the chances were something would pounce out and grab her, like a Jack-In-The-Box or a stuffed boxing glove. Maybe it would give her an electric shock; not a fatal one, of course … just enough to give her a fright.
Suddenly, something launched itself and landed on top of the box. Claire’s heart nearly exploded, but it was only Felix, proving beyond a doubt that curiosity did not always kill the cat. Well, if it didn’t do any harm to him, it was unlikely it would do any harm to her. Having said that, Felix hadn’t touched the screen.
She turned on the overhead light, chasing away the shadows and confirming that she was indeed alone. The strange boxy gadget appeared less intimidating in the bright fluorescent glow and, ridiculous and all as it might seem, Claire’s apprehensions were slowly but surely being replaced by a potentially dangerous inquisitiveness.
Touch screen for instructions.
Oh, to Hell with this, she thought. If I don’t try, I’ll never know. She reached out and did what the gadget asked of her.
Shit! What if it’s a bomb? Too late now.
The screen changed. Preparing for first time use. Please say ‘Voice’ to initialize verbal interactions.
Claire looked around her again. This was insane, but she had come this far and nothing bad had happened. Will I, won’t I?
Voice,
she said.
Welcome, Secondary Owner,
said a disembodied voice, almost causing Claire to jump out of her dressing gown. I am Arousobot A1.03. Please state your name so we may bond.
Secondary Owner? Who is the main owner, she wondered? So we may bond? Was the damn thing looking to date her? She laughed nervously.
Claire Walsh,
she said.
Welcome, Claire Walsh. Please insert your Secondary Owner Card, and key in your four-digit System Voucher Code.
A little slot, not unlike the receptor on an ATM began flashing on the left panel of the unit. At the same time, the screen display changed to a numeric keypad.
Well, that’s the end of that,
whispered Claire to herself.
She definitely had no Secondary Owner Card, and the slot looked too small to accommodate a standard bank card; not that she would stick one in even if it did fit. As far as a System Voucher Code was concerned, she had no idea what that even meant.
I don’t have an Owner Card,
she said.
Claire Walsh, please key in your four-digit System Voucher Code.
Wow, thought Claire, grinning. We’re still in the game. Taking a shot in the dark, she poked 1, 2, 3, 4 on the keypad.
Claire Walsh, the Primary Owner has now been reminded to supply you with a Secondary Owner Card. As this is this unit’s initial setup, you may proceed. Card and System Voucher Codes will be required for further use.
A mechanism unlocked itself with a click, and Felix was sent scrambling for cover as the lid of the box hinged open.
Yes!
shouted Claire, fisting the air.
By now, her curiosity and excitement far outweighed any lingering concerns as to why a futuristic talking box was sitting in the middle of her kitchen floor, how it had gotten there, and what its intentions were.
She looked inside at the strange collection of items. Three coils of flexible metal hose, the kind you might find connecting the shower-head to a domestic shower unit, sat in a row beside each other in the tray-like compartment. The open end of each one had a smooth clamp attached, whereas the opposite ends trailed away through holes in the tray and into the internals of the unit itself. Arranged in slots beside these were a number of oddly familiar looking parts that seemed as if they might attach to the clamps on the hoses.
Version A1.03 offers a choice of manual or automatic,
said the Arousobot. Please speak your choice, Claire Walsh.
Automatic,
said Claire.
The unit powered up, and a sound resembling a low-powered vacuum cleaner emerged. The hoses stirred slightly and then settled back as they were.
Say ‘list’ for a list of options. Say ‘pass’ to skip.
Claire was beginning to experience a knowing feeling about what this thing might actually be, and if she was correct … well!
List,
she said hoarsely.
Claire Walsh, please select your options from the list on the screen.
She looked at the screen, her eyes wide with excitement. She had been right, but nothing could have prepared her for what she was now reading.
Page one read, ‘1: Clitoral Stimulation. 2: Vaginal Stimulation. 3: Anal Stimulation.’ Options for combining any two or all three together followed.
Page two offered a choice of touch type, as in smooth metal, glass, silicone, plastic, synthetic finger, or synthetic tongue. The synthetic tongue choice offered sub-choices of human or cat.
Page three offered a choice of friction or suction in relation to the clitoral attachment, or an alternating mix of both.
Page four offered various rotation and vibration choices, with the inevitable option to mix and match, and then went on to offer a choice of speeds.
Claire chose all three in silicone. She was tempted to try synthetic human tongue, but chickened out at the last moment. She selected the suction option for the clitoral stimulator, and settled for medium speed with pulsing vibration for the two probes. The Arousobot informed her that the attachments were self-lubricating, and would react accordingly based on their inbuilt sensors. The same sensors would select both the widths and lengths of the probes, each of which could expand or contract automatically.
Oh my god, thought Claire, panting in anticipation.
"Claire Walsh,