Season 5, Episode 12: Swap Meat
That sounds weird
What is wrong with Sam
Whaaat
Sam.
Oh, man
NOW he gets it
He sounds like a child
This is horrifying
Whaaat
Huh
Does she know what he did?
Right
So they do know
That's... awesome
Really, Sam?
That's horrifying
Classic Dean
Apple-pie life
I hate witches
This is spooky
No you don't
Yikes
What is he wearing?
He still thinks he's Sam, but I bet the officer sees the kid
Those poor people
Really, kid?
This is whack
Yikes
Dude.
Well that's just great
NOOOOOOOOOOOO
Dean is concerned
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Poor Sam
Rip
Sasquatch
Kid has good taste in movies, at least
There's another Star Wars tee
Of course
Great
Nice, Sam
He's so tall 😂
It doesn't
Sam. Do not do that
This is great
Yikes
Hey, she knows something
Gary.
Well, that sounds like Sam
Come on, Dean
Dean, please
Not that I'm complaining, but
Yeahhh
Yikes
It's right there
Yeah, no kidding
Riiight
Dean.
Don't do it, Gary
That ain't Sam, Dean
Dean. Please, I'm begging you
Yeah
Not again
Dean, you're so close
That's not suspicious at all
"for a change"
Drunk off a single shot? Dean, please
DEAN
I mean, yeah, but he's also STUPID
Oh yeah, this kid can't have gluten
DEAN PLEASE
The sad thing is, Sam wouldn't have done any better. The kid is too much like Dean
Whoa.
I almost feel bad for the kid. Almost
Hear that Dean? You're famous
Not a chance, kid
Great
That demon is an artist
Awesome!
Ew, she likes him
Come on, Nora!
Don't do that, kid
With his own gun
TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH
Well it doesn't help that he WILDLY mispronounced it
Great! You just got your friend possessed
Is that-?
Pfft
This kid is so, so, so stupid
I think he was hoping for more than that
Stop. TALKING
ASDFGHJKL SHUT. UP
That's disgusting
I mean, yeah
That's a war crime
Dean is dying inside
And now he's passed out, so it's okay
Great
Yup
Gary.
Come on, Dean
Good for you, Gary
Really, Dean?
Yay!
Poor girl
Dude. You reversed Baby into a trash can. Not cool
Yeah, unfortunately they don't hurt kids
Yeah, your life is pretty good, kid
Oh, he knows
SAM
Yup, that's Sam alright
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My first skin suit
For a while now, I've been visiting a local tennis court to watch handsome men run around in tight, short shorts, groaning with every swing, just to play ball.
Most of the people were pretty cute, but no one compared to Jake.
He would be there every Sunday and Wednesday to play against the same ol' guys, week after week. I figured they don't really know each other; they would never really talk, just chitchat during the match about the match.
Even though I never talked to him, I kind of knew he was an awful prick. Every game was the same. He would enter the court and play for a couple of minutes before discarding his pretty tight shirt to the side, exposing his well-formed physique. His shorts were barely able to contain his member, and it was visible most of the time.
This made him the center of attention every time—he was handsome, well-trained, and had a pretty smile. Jake was completely aware of this as well, and he made sure that not only every woman's but every man's eyes were on him only.
He wasn't a bad player either; his groans echoed across the field with every swing. He was quick on his feet and possessed talent and prowess as well.
I was so fucking envious, and it felt like he knew. At times, he would look at the crowd, flexing his abs, arms, and thighs for anyone to look at.
During my nightly web surfing, I stumbled across a, at first, weird-looking site. It was a doctor selling a special serum—an injection—to create special skin suits. The site promised a fast but high-quality result. Still, $1000 was a lot of money for me for something that might be just a scam.
But then I remembered all the times Jake was teasing his audience, showing off his pretty body, and that's when I made the decision to try it out.
What could possibly go wrong?
My package arrived two weeks later, and I was surprised at how good it looked. Also, there were multiple shots of the serum included with a personal note.
"Starterkit for your new collection."
I read the instructions, which told me there are three kinds of serums. The first one—the most important one—was to create the suit. The second one was to finish putting on the suit, and lastly, the third one was to get out of the suit.
This made me excited, and I wanted to try it.
The next Wednesday, I went to the tennis court again, and of course, Jake was already there—his beautiful chest exposed, of course.
With the serum inside my bag, I hid inside the bathroom—a tiny yet secluded kind of room with multiple stalls. I watched him use the bathroom so many times after two rounds of tennis. Like all of us, he was just a creature of habit.
Someone opened the door, and I peeked through the stall door. It was Jake who went straight to the urinal. He groaned as he pissed and kept running a hand across his sweaty chest—fuck, so hot.
He stretched his neck and walked over to the sink, looking at himself through the mirror—the opportunity to strike.
Jake wasn't able to see me; he was too busy admiring his own reflection. I caught him off guard, covered his mouth with my hand, pulled him back, and injected him right away.
He screamed into the palm of my hand and tried to fight me off, but the serum incapacitated him in mere seconds. Still, I pulled him back into my hiding place, locked the stall, sat down, and embraced him in a tight hug.
I never imagined holding a handsome man like Jake in my arms—fuck, I got hard right away. He kept breathing slowly, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, while I tenderly stroked his cheek again and again. His skin was sweaty yet so soft, and his scent was so damn delicious.
As his breathing got lighter, I started to stroke his firm chest; his nipples and pecs were so hard, just like his abs. It was a sensational feeling. But somehow, I felt his body deflating slowly.
The serum was actually working.
I ran my hand down his chest again and again before my eyes fell on his huge junk hidden inside his shorts. I grabbed him firmly through the fabric of his shorts—so hard, so good. But at the same time, all of him flattened rapidly.
After a minute, his shorts slid down his thighs and dropped to the cold bathroom floor. All that was left of this handsome, thick bloke was a rubber-like, skin-tight suit.
The kit included a sharp knife, which I used to open up the new skin suit for the very first time. Slowly, I stripped and discarded my old clothes on the floor behind me; there was no use for them anyway.
Then, I grabbed him by his shoulders and held him in front of me, like a tailored suit just made for me.
My own member was tenting visibly; I still couldn't believe this actually worked.
Carefully, I stepped into his legs; my own were barely able to fill his thick thighs and calves. It was a weird yet amazing feeling. This suit smelled, looked, and felt like Jake, yet I was able to simply step inside it.
It felt like putting on my biker leather suit. I loved how tight he was and how his skin dragged over my own. Even though he was slightly ill-fitting. He was a little bigger and much bulkier than me, after all.
Even though my cock was nearly fully erect, it wasn't enough to fill this suit, and that made me chuckle—he was packing.
The next thing I did was put his upper body on, one arm at a time. I slipped inside him, barely reaching his finger tips, and my arms were way too thin to fill him.
Lastly, I put his face on like a mask before I pulled the second serum out of my bag.
"Here we go."
I injected myself and felt the effect right away: my whole body was shaking, my head was spinning, and my stomach was twisting and turning. However, it actually worked: my body enlarged itself to fill Jake completely.
My arms, thighs, and chest grew bigger with every deep breath I took. This made me stroke myself and my chest again and again; it just felt soooo good.
I let out an audible moan, and to my surprise, I heard Jake's deep, manly voice. Using his hands and his fingertips to touch my new skin felt amazing. My body was tingling, almost tickling my inner self, and this made me chuckle again, using Jake's beautiful voice.
Shivers ran down my entire back once my head was flooded with serotonin, making me feel so fucking good. A side effect of the serum was to make the subject feel no pain, just pleasure.
My new member grew so hard so quick, and I needed to hold back releasing myself just now. I started touching myself, one hand at my junk, the other following my new firm 'jawline. Feeling my stubbly moustache made things worse, however.
"Fuck." I groaned, steading myself against the door in front of me, as it took all my strength to not cum right there. "So good." Instinctively, however, I started to jerk off, starting off softly and slowly at first, but my hand basically moved on its own.
After mere seconds, after edging on for a while, I came the first time through my new skin suit, covering the door with my precious cream. The release felt so good, and for a while, I just enjoyed the moment.
Loving my new scent, I smelled my own pits deeply. Damn, this was so fucking good. At the same time, my dick was still pulsating. Just touching myself made me leak some more, as all of me was acting purely on instinct.
I grabbed myself, touched myself, moaned, and groaned until a noise from outside snapped me out of this state of pure blissful trance. I needed to hurry up a bit.
Then, I got dressed again, leaving my old clothes behind. I just put on his tight underwear, shorts, and shoes. They suited me so well.
I stepped outside the stall and caught a glimpse of my new face. Damn, I was beautiful.
"I can't believe it worked." I groaned deeply, touching myself, my chest, and my junk once again. I grabbed my bag and Jake's old stuff and licked my lips. With one last look in the mirror, I winked at myself and left the bathroom.
It was time to go home and explore my new acquisition.
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Maintenance
When Sam’s phone rings and he sees Castiel’s caller ID, he can’t quite suppress the old sense of alarm. Their lives have been peaceful for a while now - maybe too peaceful. And although Dean and Cas have seemed happy since moving into Bobby’s old cabin last year, Sam doesn’t trust that happiness. From experience, good things never last for the Winchesters.
Warily, he picks up the phone. “Cas, hey, what’s going on?”
“Can I seek refuge at the bunker?” As usual, the angel isn’t one for preliminaries.
“Why?” Sam asks, immediately worried. “What happened? Where’s Dean?”
“He’s at the farmer’s market.”
“The farmer’s market? What for?”
“To buy food.” Cas sounds annoyed. “That’s what you do there.”
Sam rubs his forehead. “I know that. But I didn’t know Dean did. But what does that have to do with you seeking refuge? Is someone after you? Something? Do you need help?”
“I definitely need help.” A nuance of desperation bleeds through Castiel’s grumpiness. “The situation is dire.”
Sam is squinting into the phone now. He still has no idea what the hell Cas is talking about.
“Cas, what happened? What the hell is going on?”
On the other end of the line, the angel sighs deeply. “I sent Dean for a check-up.”
“A check-up? At the doctor’s?” Sam’s heartbeat picks up.
“Yes. Humans are feeble creatures. They need maintenance, Samuel,” Cas lectures him.
“I know that,” Sam all but snaps back, his patience wearing thin. “And Dean went? Is he sick?”
“Not yet. But he could become sick if he doesn’t watch his-... wait, I forgot what it’s called.” There’s a pause, and Sam hears paper rustling in the background. “... his cholesterol. It’s too high.”
Now it’s Sam’s turn to sigh. He has a hunch where this is going. “Did his doctor put him on a diet?”
Castiel grunts gloomily. “He told him to swap meat for vegetables.”
“Let me guess,” Sam says, battling a feeling somewhere between relief, worry and laughter. “He’s eating greens and hating it.”
“...and being unbearable, yes,” Cas adds. “I know he’s doing this for me, Sam. He wants to be healthy for me. But, dear God, he’s killing me.” Sam can literally hear the misery written on the angel’s face.
“That bad?”
“He’s angry all the time. Even when he sleeps.”
Sam can’t help it. He chuckles.
“It’s not funny, Sam.”
“I know, I know.” Sam disguises his inappropriate mirth in a cough. “I’m sorry, Cas. I can imagine.”
He hears Castiel scratch his ever-present stubble.
“What shall I do, Sam? Can I stay with you and Eileen for a while? Until he's less... like this?”
Sam takes a moment to think. “Of course you can. But I don’t think it’ll help Dean’s mood if he thinks you’re leaving him.”
“I’m not leaving him!” Cas is appalled.
“No, but he’ll take it that way, Cas. You know how he is. He’s always afraid that you will. And he’ll blame himself. And that will make him even more angry.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” Glumly.
“That bad?”
“Demon Dean was a ray of sunshine compared to him.”
“Oh.”
They both fall silent for a moment. Sam is just about to suggest something when, on the other end of the line, he hears a door slam.
“Sam, Dean’s back,” Castiel hisses.
“Hey hey! Who are you talking to, Cas?”
Dean’s voice. Bright and cheerful.
“I’m… I’m talking to Sam…”
“Oh yeah? Tell him and Eileen to come over tonight! I’m putting steaks on the grill. And burgers. I’m gonna show that doctor where he can shove his cholesterol.”
Dean laughs, defiantly and wholeheartedly, and Sam can imagine the i-don’t-give-a-damn joy in his brother’s eyes.
Then Castiel is back on the line. “Did you hear what he said?” He sounds very relieved.
“Yes.” Sam smirks. “Problem solved, I guess?”
“For now. But I’ll need you to teach me some heart-healthy recipes. Maintenance, remember?”
“I’ll be happy to. But it’s you who’ll make him eat them.”
Castiel sighs again. “God help me.”
Sam chuckles again. “I’m afraid you’re on your own, buddy.”
He hangs up, to the sound of Dean whistling gaily in the background.
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