“OW!” yelped the young, frightened canine as he felt the sharp sting of a cattle prod urge haste from his shaking bare legs. He was led along a corridor by a bigger and older correctional officer, a stern-looking sheep with a seemingly permanent smirk on his face. Both painfully aware of the irony present in a sheep herding a border collie to his impending doom… or at least that’s how it played out in Ardeo’s mind.
Everything had happened in a blur, a branded van pulled over in the parkway, his boyfriend opened the door and led the correctional agents right to the unsuspecting collie. Next thing he knew, he was stripped naked and told he would undergo punitive action just before being taken to who knows where. For the officer, it was nothing more than just another day on the job working at an independent correctional facility. He recalled reading “barking after 12pm” and “digging holes in the yard” somewhere in Ardeo’s file but he couldn’t care less about any of that for all he craved was the sweet hollering he was about to wrench out of the poor dog.
Halting by a broad entryway, the officer gestured, signalling to the smaller canine to step inside, which he immediately did only to be greeted by the stomach-turning image of a chair clad in restraints, no doubt meant for him. He gave fleeing a thought but the sound of the chamber’s door being bolted shut quickly dissuaded any notion of avoiding his oncoming fate.
“Sit” ordered the sheep, not bothering to look as he wheeled over a small metal cart bearing an assortment of implements that would surely help correct the boy’s behaviour. Reluctantly, Ardeo sat down and tried to think of a way to talk himself out of the dire predicament at hand.
“Come on!” he meekly said “I won’t wake up the neighbours again, I promise! Can I go now?”
“You most certainly cannot” retorted the officer “If you’re that desperate to not get tickled just try passing out quickly!” …tickled? And passing out?! What on earth is happening? Surely, he had misheard that… the thought of being tied down with all his sensitive spots open to any prodding and raking his tormentor desired had Ardeo convinced he might actually die. A look down at the feathers on the handcart was more than enough to confirm his hearing was just fine.
“Wait! Tickled?! I-I can’t be tickled! You don’t unders—” he was sternly interrupted “Quit your whining!” spat the officer, starting the restraining process, ankles first.
“I don’t want to hear no barking! You’ve been a bad dog and now you’re gonna get your punishment!” He raised the boy’s arms above his head and fastened his wrists securely to the chair.
With his arms held above his head and ankles strapped to the footrest, Ardeo tried to find his bearings. He couldn’t believe it! He was about to be mercilessly tickle tortured, to have feathers run between his soft toes, to have brushes comb his sensitive armpits, to have– “OW!” His gaze was drawn to a sudden prick in his left arm. The officer had injected something in him.
“Sensitivity serum,” he explained “to make bad boys like you extra sorry.” He shot a quick glance at the collie’s genitals which made him very much aware of how exposed they were. While waiting for the serum to take effect, the final stage of the setup took place, the sheep mounted four of what looked like electric flossers near the edges of the chair, pointing at his exposed armpits and the soles of his foot paws, a placement which left Ardeo with little doubt of what they were meant for.
“Let’s get started, boy!”
What felt like a cold, concentrated jet of water hit the anticipating sheepdog’s underarm, forcing a yelp and a stream of jovial giggling. A ticklish sensation but a most brain-puzzling one, the unusual implement felt like a constantly moving rake despite never leaving the same spot.
“P-Please stop it!” he begged “Please!” his brain seemed to tune out from processing signals coming from any other body part other than that poor, ticklish pit driving him insane. Visible contentment was the officer’s answer to Ardeo’s plea, letting him know any and all begging worked only as encouragement for his tormentor.
“Begging already? We’ve only just started, and I’ve got three more jets to add plus this nice feather.” He said, twirling a single black feather in full view of his victim. After a while, he paced around the bound collie and started the other jet which joined its twin in shooting a small torrent of water against the dog’s un-tickled hollow.
“Gotta clean those pits, boy.”
“They ARE clean!!” squealed Ardeo amidst ever increasing peals of laughter. He pulled hard on his wrist cuffs, futilely attempting to cover the supple skin of his hairless underarms, however bad the situation seemed, he was fully aware of what would happen if it continued. Sure enough, a meagre minute and a half into his punishment, his member began showing itself from the confines of his sheath, eager to play and be played with.
His cheeks burned, he expected this reaction from his own body but to do so in front of a complete stranger intent on provoking this exact response was light-years away from his comfort zone. “Hey, look who’s leaking! Bad boy likes tickles, huh? Does he?”. He did not answer, merely spewing a torrent of defeated chortles in resignation to his titillating torment.
He was forced to once more take in a new sensation as the flossers aimed at his feet began streaming their tickly jets right against his soft paw pads. “Naahahaha!!~” the abused dog hollered, bursting out with yet another attempt at loosening his restraints, futile as it may be for it was as if they had been made for the specific purpose of holding overly sensitive border collies for their punishments.
“Got us a tenderfoot!” the sheep casually remarked, upon observing the renewed but brief struggle his victim put up the second his paws were introduced to the torture devices, by far the most common weak spot across all his unfortunate patients. Some required a thorough rub with sensitising lotion though certainly not the sheepdog presently squealing. His feet were soft and well-tended, a point of pride for Ardeo who had quite a habit of showing them off to his boyfriend both playfully and intimately. The fact that he seldom ever went barefoot contributed to making his soles naturally supple and uncalloused even before his foot care routine.
The woolly officer idly toyed with the black feather between his fingers, patiently waiting for its intended target to fully show itself. Thankfully for him and dreadfully for Ardeo, being subject to full-body tickling torture paired with a tight bondage setup pushed all of the canine’s hidden buttons, coercing his cock to stand completely out of its sheath and drool with a steady stream of precum. It was time. Slowly and methodically, the officer’s feather began running laps along the exposed dog’s cock, first around base then along the underside before circling round the head and finally dragging back down to start all over again. In the sheep’s trained hands, the feather was a precise tool, deftly stimulating nerves in a manner that would make a brain surgeon blush.
Soft whimpers intermingled with tortured chortles in a draconian cacophony of pained pleasure. Ardeo’s nerves lit up with electricity, he had no way of lowering his arms to cover his now reddened armpits and no way to move his feet and halt the raking assault on his already red-colored paw pads, curling his toes being about as effective at alleviating the feeling as curling his fingers. But the queerest sensation was the one inflicted upon his member, which he had not yet decided if he liked or not. He certainly enjoyed the feeling of the soft fibres dragging themselves along his meat but the tingling trails they left were driving him mad with ticklish lust.
“This here is my favourite part, mutt–” the correctional officer sped up his ministrations “–the climax of our little session, if you will.” The sheep’s allusion was made obvious when the collie tensed up and, with a silent howl, shot out his pent up load, streaks of semen matting his stomach fur. The intense post-orgasm glee dulled all sensations but for the tranquil afterglow… for about ten seconds. Following his release, Ardeo’s nerves screamed in agony, he had wondered if the tickling would be enough to make him pass out, he now knew it was not a matter of “if”, only “when”.
The sheep carefully laid down the unconscious canine on a slim bed. Walking out of the cell, he locked the door shut and made his way along the narrow corridor lined with similar holding cells, each containing a different recovering anthro having undergone torments similar to Ardeo’s. He sat at a small corner desk tucked behind the last cell of the hallway and typed on a computer:
SESSION REPORT
NAME: ARDEO
SPECIES: BORDER COLLIE
GENDER: M
AGE: 21
OFFENCE: EXCESSIVE NOISE AT INDECENT HOURS
PUNISHMENT: TICKLING W/ POST-ORGASM
CORRECTIONAL OFFICER REPORT: Subject was signed up to undergo punishment by his boyfriend after receiving several noise complaints from neighbours. Was restrained and given a half-dose of standard sensitising serum. Stimulated areas were underarms, soles of the feet and penile region, at boyfriend’s behest. Session lasted about 35 minutes and ended when the subject passed out from overstimulation. Subject climaxed 3 times. Post-session vitals confirmed green. Subject scheduled for a follow-up session 12 hours after his first session before being cleared to be picked up by his boyfriend.
The officer saved the report and stretched in his chair. “That’s the third collie this month. Dogs these days…”