FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Marf awoke as though from a dream and found himself strapped to a padded chair. He tried to move, but his wrists and ankles were bound.

"What the hell?"

"Relax, Marf. Stop struggling. That's just for your own safety. Pay attention to me and soon this will all be over and you can go home."

Marf opened his eyes. He was seated in front of a desk in a bare office. Behind the desk was a woof in a police uniform. Uh-oh. He could see enough of himself to tell he still had his clothes on. He looked at the officer; he knew was in for it now!

The officer consulted his data pad.

"I see you were caught being rambunctious in the wilderness ares without authorization."

Marf thought about how he and his pack-school friends had sneaked to the wooded section of the station. They had swum in the creek and stared out at the stars above them. He swallowed.

"Yes, Sir."

"You know how serious this offense is. And you know that we take care of our citizens. You're about to become a citizen, right after you finish your final pack-school examinations. I've been tracking your progress and I see that you have a lot of potential. We can't afford to lose you, and I'm certain you don't want to become one of those worker drones."

Marf's eyes widened in fear.

"Yes, Marf. You've seen them. Let me demonstrate what I'm talking about. Hold still; this won't hurt."

The officer got up from his chair, retrieved something from a drawer in the desk, and stood next to Marf. Marf could not see what the officer was doing, but he could feel him strap something around his head. The officer pushed it around; Marf could feel some cold pokey things poke through his fur and make contact with his scalp in about a dozen places. Marf was a little afraid; his heart sped up in anticipation. The officer sat back down and looked at the data pad. He touched its surface and it made some beeping noises.

"First I'm going to calibrate this."

Marf felt a tingling from the thing on his head. He became enraged that this officer should violate his mind and body; he tensed his muscles and tried to rip his way off the chair. He growled deep in his throat and snapped at the officer, and whined in fear. He tried to cower; all he could do was close his mouth and lower his head and try to look at the officer like a puppy that knows it has done wrong.

"Good puppy!"

Marf felt a wave of love and comfort wash over him; his anger and fear of a moment ago were completely forgotten as he felt gratitude that this nice officer was taking care of him.

"Awww, that's a good puppy. Yes, you are loved," said the officer. "Always." He smiled a gentle, kind smile and Marf felt contended and happy to sit in that chair. Marf sighed and smiled.

The officer touched the data pad and the contentment eased. He touched it again, and Marf took an extreme interest in him. He stared at his eyes and mouth, waiting, waiting for his next words. Please speak.

"Now pay attention to me, Marf. That's a good pup. I own you. I own you and all your friends. I know what you're up to and what you can do with your life. You have a choice, now, to lead the life of a good citizen and accomplish great things. That's what you want to do, isn't it?"

Marf nodded eagerly, wanting to hear more.

"I'm doing you a special favor now. I'm going to let you go. I'm not even going to record any of this in your permanent record. You don't have to mention this to anyone; let it be our secret that I'm doing you this favor."

Marf shook his head "no" and still fixed his attention on the officer.

"It's very simple: Behave yourself. Keep out of trouble. Keep your friends out of trouble. Do that and you'll be fine."

The officer poked at the data tab. Marf felt his rapt attention ebb; he let his eyes wander around the office, at the cabinet behind the officer, the door.

"Look at me," said the officer.

Marf looked, and some of that good feeling returned.

"Yes, that's a good pup. I'm going to leave you with a gift."

The officer opened a drawer and produced a toolbox. This he set down on the desk in front of Marf. He opened it and touched a field on the data pad.

Marf stared at the tools in the tool box. Screwdrivers, pliers, the usual stuff. He felt comforted, and could feel a hard-on developing. Something about those tools. He looked at the crosspoint screwdriver. Its shape made him want to grasp it, hold it, turn it. He shifted his hips as his cock grew hard, and he tried to pick up that screwdriver, but the chair straps prevented him. He whimpered a bit, staring at the tools, feeling his cock grow hard and almost painful in his pants. He longed to touch those tools, to grasp them and use them to build or fix something.

"Oh, you want those?"

"Mmm, yes, Sir. Uh." Marf shifted his hips to try to hide his boner.

"Good boy. Don't be embarrassed. I know all about what you're feeling. You're a healthy young woof, and that's a perfectly healthy reaction. I'm going to mark a positive response for you on that."

With a gentle smile, the officer touched the datapad. Marf felt an urge to--he strained against the straps of his chair and spooged in his pants.

The officer closed the toolbox, and Marf whined a little.

"Don't worry, Marf. Soon you will have a fine toolbox of your own, and you will always enjoy using it."

The officer touched the data pad and clarity returned to Marf. He recalled anger, fear, attention, and sexual craving ... and the officer's instructions and warnings. He was confused, but it began to dawn on him that this man was in control of him. The officer removed the strap encircling Marf's head and put it away.

"Hold still now. If you struggle I will take longer."

"Yes, Sir."

Marf held still as the officer undid the straps.

"That's good, Marf. Remember what I talked about. Now go through that door there and follow the arrows out. No one need know you were here.