While Randy was gone, Raccoon Man peeled off Ryan to see what would happen. He could always put him back on.
"Cool," he said dangling the helpless twisted empty jockstrap from his index claw. He dropped the jockstrap, and waited. Nothing happened. He hopped down, picked up Ryan, and carried him over to Ryan's desk, where he stood on the seat of the chair, and grabbed a laundry marker.
What are you doing? Ryan asked as the raccoon's paws flattened him out on his desk.
"Marking my property, jock boy. I think my name in English best translates as Scrounger. But I think I'll use the name Skipper. Like the captain of a boat. And your bro Randy will make the perfect Gilligan. Heh, heh," said the raccoon man writing: "PWNed By SKIPPER".
He pulled the jockstrap back on, despite Ryan's protests to get that marker off him. Hopped back on the bed just before Randy appeared with a tin of sardines.
"Here you go- er, what's your name?"
"You can call me Skipper," the raccoon man said with a nonchalant hand gesture.
"Okay, skipper, here's your sardines," Randy said turning the key to peel back the tin to open the can.
The smell of sardines wafted across the room. Randy crinkled his nose. Skipper licked his lips.
"Gimme!" said Skipper jumping up with a ferocious grin. He grabbed the tin from Randy, and began wolfing down the sardines. Sardine oil splattered on Ryan and his bed.
"So you say that that jockstrap is my kid bro Ryan?"
"Yeah, jock boy-(Smacking his lips)- is a real jock now. Whatcha wanna be when you grow up?"
"Ha, ha! I'm majoring in Ecological Sciences," Randy replied, "So, if that really is Ryan, do you think I could wear him?"
"Sure! Why not? But keep in mind that Ryan is "Powned by Skipper" and whoever wears it is "Powned by Skipper" too," he said setting the half empty tin on the bed and peeling the jockstrap off. His human sized furry cock and balls flopped out.
"Whoa! I didn't know raccoons were so uh-um- well endowed?"
"Like what you see? Here put this on!" he handed Randy the jockstrap.
"Ew! It's wet and sticky," said Randy.
"Yeah, I woke with my usual morning wood, and fed Ryan the breakfast of Champions," cracked Skipper. Seeing the expression on Randy's face, he lied, "Nah, that's just oil from the tin of sardines." Randy's expression relaxed.
"But it looks awfully small? I might rip it."
"Oh, Ryan's stretchier than you might think. He's guaranteed to fit," Skipper said with a wink.
"Okay," said Randy, with a snicker. He'd play along with Ryan for now. He shucked his shorts, and stepped into the raccoon's jockstrap.
Skipper batted Randy's flopping cock with a paw, and cracked, "You're no slouch in the endowment department either.
Randy was startled, he was amazed at his brother's technical ability. He had no idea that he could build a robot, let alone one so realistic. He grinned, and pulled up. He expected to have the strap get stuck on his meaty thighs, but it kept sliding up his legs, and snapped into place over his manhood, and around his waist.
Ryan's voice boomed in his startled brother's mind, "Thank goodness, Randy. I was afraid that raccoon would wear me forever. You won't believe what-"
Skipper leaned back and ate another sardine, as he watched Randy closely to see what happened.