Flash Commission – Junior Joins the Pig Squad

This story is a “se-queal” to a story from last year called “The Pig Squad” which you can read here. I would recommend at least skimming it before you read this one, it will make a lot more sense.


Simon had never seen eye to eye with his father. Whether it was always going to be this way, or whether the death of his mother while he was a young teenager drove a wedge between them they would have been able to bridge otherwise, they didn’t know. The friction that had simmered between them during high school had recently begun to boil over, as Simon had found himself of age, but still stuck living with his dad. He was going to community college, earning credits so he could get into a better four year school, but his dad saw no good reason why he should have to pay his son’s way through life. The fact that his father was a motorcycle cop provided an easy contrast, and by the end of his first year of school, he was proudly supporting anti-police brutality protests, both earnestly, and just so he could rub it in his father’s face.

But this summer, something had happened to his father, something that Simon couldn’t quite understand. He’d always known that his dad wasn’t a great cop–he wasn’t that great of a person, and power like that tended to corrupt. He was short tempered and mercurial, a stickler for what Simon considered meaningless detail, and prone to micromanage as a means of asserting power every chance he could. He came home grousing one night that his squad was being sanctioned and forced to participate in some strange training seminar, and for the next few weeks, something…happened to him. He got fatter, he shaved his head, his uniforms changed from the standard cotton and poly blend to full leather ones that he would wear constantly–Simon even wondered if his father slept in them sometimes. When he asked his dad about it, his dad showed him a little video about the training. It left Simon feeling a little…strange, and he felt better about it for a while, but the worries crept back in slowly.

One night, he got up to take a piss, and on the way back from the bathroom, he heard some noises coming from his father’s room. Wondering what it might be, he snuck down, opened the door, and gasped–his dad and another officer he recognized as from his squad were on the bed, in their uniforms, the other officer pounding a sizable dildo into his father’s hole while they stared at a TV screen flashing some strange spiral pattern. Before Simon could retreat, they looked over at him when he gasped, mouths open and drooling, and they tackled him to the ground, ignoring his pleading for them to stop, cuffed him, and dragged him out of the house and into a patrol car, before speeding off into the night.

Simon had no idea where they were taking him, but he expected it to be the police station. Instead, they ended up outside of a nice suburban house, the two officers went up to knock on the door, and slipped inside. After a few minutes, they emerged again with another fellow in a robe and slippers, who came to the window with them. Simon went to beg him for help, for an explanation, for anything, but the man flashed some strange light in his eyes, and after a few moments, Simon was deep in a trance of his own.

“Alright, get him out and bring him inside, pigs,” Doctor Leoncett said, “Apparently the acceptance training wasn’t strong enough for this one.”

Simon’s father and the other officer hauled the drooling Simon out of the car and into the doctor’s home, down into the basement where he was strapped into a chair in front of a large screen, and the doctor set him up with an IV to receive a new batch of serum he’d been testing. “Alright Officer Mendel, your son is going to be staying with me for extended training. You will return home and make whatever excuses necessary with the college he attends. Otherwise, you will continue as normal, until I say otherwise, understand?”

The two pigs saluted the doctor, and left. The temporary stun was beginning to wear off for Simon, and he was starting to struggle against the bonds holding him to the chair. “What…what the fuck is this?”

“Well Simon, it would seem that you’ve seen a bit too much,” the doctor said, “The acceptance video doesn’t work on everyone, especially if they have a bit too much will. Your dad was a little willful too, it must run in the family–but don’t worry, I think this is going to work out best for everyone involved. After all, your dad’s squad has an opening at the moment…”

“No, what? Let me go!” he said, but the screen in front of him was showing that same spiral, those same flashing lights, and he felt his attention being sucked into it, unable to pull away. 

“Don’t worry, you seem like a good kid. Your dad on the other hand, a real asshole. It’ll be good to have another officer at home to keep him in line.”

That was the last thing Simon heard, before the spiral pulled him down into another trance, and the world around him melted away into nothing.


When he awoke, it took Simon a few minutes to get past the headache still throbbing in his skull, and manage to open his eyes. When he did, he was looking up at a plain white ceiling with fluorescent lighting. It wasn’t…his room. He didn’t even know where he was, actually, everything was…blurry. He could recall finding his dad doing something…and…and nothing really past that, it was too muddled to work out. Thinking about it was making the headache come back anyway, so he rolled up to a sitting position, and found himself on the edge of a small bed, facing a mirror on the wall.

Something was wrong with his reflection. Something inside him was screaming that at him, telling him that what he was looking at wasn’t right at all, but Simon was struggling to figure out what could be wrong about it. Certainly it wasn’t his face–bald head, clean shaven, double and triple chin underneath his short neck, nose turned up a little. It wasn’t his body, right? Barrel chested and bellied, firm but with plenty of jiggle, two meaty pecs with nipples pointing out, half an inch long, and very sensitive. He gave them both a little tweak, and felt his pig cock throb, drooling out a little precum onto the floor beneath him. His short, thick cock was right of course, his meaty ass, thick thighs, size fifteen feet, ham like arms. No…he…this was how he was supposed to look, this…why did he feel so strange?

He held his head in his hands, letting the headache pass again. God he was stupid fucking pig, he should be able to figure this out, but it was gone. He stood up from the bed and saw his uniform hanging beside the door. He took it down and pulled it on one piece at a time. It felt strange as he did it. He knew it wasn’t the first time he’d worn it, couldn’t be the first time, but the sensation of the leather against his smooth skin was so erotic, so new, that he felt like it was his first time all over again. By the time the leather shirt, breeches, boots gloves and cap were on, his pig cock was hard and leaking–he had to resist the urge to haul it out and rub out a load right there, snorting and looking at his hot pig body in the mirror, but he had something else he needed to do first. He needed to go see the doctor of course.

He went to the door, the creak of the leather, the scent of it already putting him in a hornier mood, if that was possible. He stepped out of the room and went down the hall, where he saw the doctor was standing, working on some project or other. It wasn’t important. Pigs like him couldn’t understand things like that anyway. Doctor Leoncett looked up from his work and smiled. “Ah, Mendel Junior, you’re awake. Feeling alright, I hope?”

“Yeah, just…have this pounding headache,” he said. His voice seemed deeper than he recalled, but again, it didn’t seem wrong, just…like everything else, he wasn’t quite sure what was going on. “Uh, doc? Where am I exactly? I can’t seem to remember anything.”

“Oh, just a routine training, nothing to be concerned about. I wanted you to make sure you and your father were properly adjusted. You finished up first, and he should be done soon–come on, let’s go check on him.”

They went back down the hall to another room, the doctor opened a door, and Junior found himself looking at a very similar scene to the one he could no longer recall, his dad in full leather, riding a massive dildo, staring at a pulsing screen, drool running down his chins as he fucked himself, cock throbbing. But where before Simon had been horrified, all he could feel now was an intense desire and pride. Fuck, his Dad was such a hot pig. The two of them were two peas in a pod really. Mostly, at least. There was no mistaking it when they were side by side that they were related. The doctor hit a switch, and the screen faded out, the music stopped, and the lights in the room came up slowly. Mendel Senior shook his head, spittle flying as he did, and fell forward onto hands and knees, snorting, looking around a bit confused. Junior walked over, shoved one of his boots in front of his dad’s face, and while it took him a moment to focus on it, he gave a little squeal and started licking at the leather, polishing it as best he could with his tongue.

“Fuck dad, you’re such a fuckin’ pig,” Junior said, groping his leaking pig cock through the front of his leather pants.

Senior was still recovering from his recent mindfuck, but he looked up at his son, at his new son, and couldn’t be more proud. He was big and thick and smelled like leather and musk, and he was so much smarter than his Daddy, so much better in so many ways. Senior was more than happy to service his boy in whatever way he required.

Junior let his dad suck his boots shiny for a couple of minutes, as he came out of his trance, and then he went around behind him, and probed his smooth ass and hole with a few gloved fingers, feeling his dad’s piggy hole throb and shudder at the touch of his leather gloves. “Fuck, you’re such a piggy slut,” he said.

“Anything for my hot pigson, fuckin’ plow me boy, come on…”

Of course, all of the pigs on the squad had cocks too small to fuck, other than the sergeant of course, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t find other solutions. He saw on a little table his usual instrument of choice, a strap-on dildo, nearly ten inches long and almost as thick as his fist, that he fastened over the top of his uniform pants, lined up with his father’s hole, and drove it in, making him squeal. He grabbed hold of his father’s leather shirt in his gloved hands, thrusting in deeper and deeper until the dildo was buried up to the hilt, and proceeded to fuck his father nice and rough, how they both liked it. Neither of them noticed the lights fading out, the screen coming back up with a pulsing spiral, the music throbbing in their ears. They just focused on it, unable to look away while they fucked, cementing their new programming, and new relationship, in as deep as the doctor could, ensuring that Junior and Senior, as they were now exclusively known, would be his kinky pig cop slaves for the rest of their lives.

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