White Shampoo
Branko helps out his short Roommate JJ with his confidence problem using his powers of growth, resulting in some interesting results!
Hello dear readers! Welcome to the first in what I hope will be the Many Adventures of Branko series! These short stories focus around my fursona Branko and his occasionally silly but often erotic interactions with the friends he comes into contact with! Please leave a comment below to tell me what you think, and if you have idea for future stories, or if you want to commission me to write a story of your own, send me a message and lets talk about it!
In this first installment, Branko helps out his short Roommate JJ with his confidence problem using his powers of growth, resulting in some interesting results!
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“Mmmore! Oh fuck me Jack, give me all of you!” The tawny fox moaned underneath the muscled hare. Above him was a mountain of a Jackrabbit, his midnight blue fur stretched tight over an anatomy of impossible power. Thick, slabs of pectoral muscle heaved with each breath, and a cobblestone wash of abs disappeared into a groin where a truly monstrous, ebony cock was buried to the hilt inside a writhing, slender fox twink. His oversized cock stretched out the fox as his heavy low hanging balls smacked against the smaller fur loudly, promising a healthy dose of rabbit milk as reward for the punishment the hare was putting him through. With a Grin, Jack thrusted to the hilt, eliciting a howl from the fox as he gave the smaller guy exactly what he was asking for and then some. The fox’s whimpers were music to Jack’s ears as he continued to dominate the small male with everything he had, his powerful thighs flexing with every deep, punishing thrust. He was the top, the stud, the breeder. His cock, a behemoth of throbbing flesh, felt impossibly huge, hot and alive as it stretched the little fox to his absolute limit.
“You think you can handle all of me, little guy? Seems like you’re barely keeping up as it is,” he taunted playfully, pausing a minute to enjoy the sensation before resuming his thrusts.
“You’re such a tease, Jack” the fox pants back, writhing as he arches his back off the bed, taking the hare’s length like a pro. The two had been hooking up for about a month now so he had gotten a chance to get used to this kind of punishment, but the fox knew his innocent tease act worked up the big man without fail, and thanks to his foxy genetics, he was still tight enough to be mistaken for a virgin. “No one fills me up like you do. Please? Let me carry your seed, Sir.” he pleads, gripping the sheets as he feels the massive shaft inside him throb and start to unload. “Yes! That’s it! Give it to-”
The shrill beep of his alarm shattered the fantasy as a loud ringing erupted from the phone on the nightstand, startling Jack from his dream. “Aww man, just as it was getting good!” He moaned as he rolled over and reached to turn off the alarm, the image of the powerful hare dissolving into the cracked ceiling of his small bedroom. Jack “JJ” Clearpaw was a painfully average jackrabbit. At 5’6” he wasn't exactly short, but he also wasn't the tallest. His build was middling as well, with some slight definition in his arms balanced out by a slight chub in his belly. His fur was a deep midnight blue with stark white accents on his chest and head, something that could have made him stand out had he not kept himself covered up in baggy clothes, only showing a patchy, scraggly beard and an unkempt, messy mop on his head.
He reached down, his hand finding the modest, half-hard reality of his own equipment. A sigh escaped his lips. With a groan, he swung his feet out of bed, mumbling, “Well, suppose it’s time to get up,” and reached out to grab his phone off the nightstand so he could turn off the alarm.
JJ had, by some chance, gotten a job at The CottonTale, a local strip club. He had originally applied to be a dancer, but his lack of confidence caused him to botch the audition, so he was offered a backstage position instead. That was 3 years ago. He had seen countless dancers come and go, and knew all their routines by heart, but his confidence still hadn’t improved one bit. It seemed the boys at the club were getting bigger and brawnier, or sexier and curvier, with each new hire, while he stayed the same average hare he had always been. It was with a sigh that he grabbed his phone, his thumb swiping through gallery after gallery of hyper-masculine dancers, their bodies bulging with muscle and their packages straining against the fabric of their underwear. *What would that even feel like?* he mused, a familiar ache of longing settling in his chest. He laid back down in bed scrolling for a few minutes before noticing the time. He had to be at work in 4 minutes! "Shit! I'm late for rehearsal!"
In a flurry, he jumped out of bed and into the closest pair of shorts he could find, and dashed to the closet to blindly grab a plain black shirt. He threw on the clothes, not even bothering with more than a cursory glance in the mirror, and bolted downstairs.
He skidded to a halt in the kitchen where his roommate Branko was unloading groceries. At close to 15 feet tall,The Hrothgar was a vision of relaxed power. His overly muscled frame was barely covered by a simple apron tied around his waist, and he moved with catlike grace as he put things way, using his long prehensile tail to grab things out of the bag so that he didn't have to turn around. He had white fur on his torso, groin, and inner thighs, while the rest was a rich warm brown. His tiger stripes, normally a cheery glowing yellow, seemed almost white today, a sign of his connection to the full moon. His sheer size made the kitchen feel like a dollhouse, and the floorboards groaned under the larger cat’s weight
"Running late, little guy?" Branko rumbled, his voice a deep, amused purr.
"Yeah, tech rehearsal," JJ panted, grabbing a protein bar from the counter. "See you later!" He was out the door in a flash. Branko watched him go, a thoughtful expression on his feline face. He’d been trying for months to help the scrawny little guy bulk up, designing workout routines and protein-packed meal plans. But JJ’s metabolism was a furnace, burning through calories faster than Branko could force-feed him. It seemed the boy was destined to be a "gym-bunny" in the literal sense—small and twitchy, not big and powerful. But Branko was a resourceful Hrothgar, and he had one more trick up his sleeve. He reached into the grocery bag and pulled out a plain, white bottle of shampoo. With a knowing smirk, he padded down the hall to the bathroom they shared and quietly swapped JJ’s nearly-empty bottle for his own. The shampoo was a special blend, infused with Branko’s own essence, and harvested during the full moon when his powers of giving were at their peak. The Hrothgar was a powerful catalyst for growth, and he intended to use that to help out his little friend.
Hours later, JJ stumbled back into the apartment, exhausted. All he wanted was a hot shower to wash away the day. He peeled off his sweaty clothes in the bathroom and noticed the new bottle on the shelf. The scent was incredible before he even opened it—a sweet, tropical wave of coconut and sharp, clean lemongrass that made his whiskers twitch. The bathroom door opened and Branko’s immense frame filled the doorway, shirtless, a towel draped over his shoulder.
"Oh sorry JJ, I didn't know you were in here! I'll leave you to it. By the way, I noticed your shampoo was running low," Branko said casually, gesturing to the new bottle. "Figured you could use some of mine. It’s a special blend."
"Thanks, man," JJ said, unscrewing the cap and taking a deeper sniff. "Smells amazing.” He hopped into the shower, the hot water immediately soothing his aching muscles. He poured a dollop of the milky white liquid onto a washcloth and worked it into a thick, rich lather. The scent intensified, filling the small, steamy room, and a strange, pleasant tingling sensation spread across his skin wherever the suds touched. He started with his chest, rubbing the cloth over his flat, unimpressive pecs. He closed his eyes, imagining them swelling, becoming powerful and defined. The tingling grew stronger, more insistent. He moved to his arms, wishing they were thicker, more muscular. Then his groin, a deep, secret yearning for a cock that could rival the dancers he admired. The lather ran down his legs, the tingling following in its wake, a pleasant, warming hum.
Branko entered the bathroom again, ostensibly to put out fresh towels. He caught his reflection in the mirror, his own eyes glinting with cunning anticipation. He began trimming his beard, his movements slow and deliberate. He knew exactly what was happening in that shower, and he intended to have a front-row seat.
JJ rinsed off, the tingling sensation fading into a deep, relaxing warmth that seemed to settle most heavily in his groin. His ears twitched as he heard the door open and saw the hrothgar’s ears above the shower door. "Hey, Branko? This stuff is... really nice. Feels different."
"It's my own recipe," Branko called out, his voice even. "All-natural stuff to help you relax and recover. Good for the muscles."
JJ shrugged it off, letting his head fall back under the spray. The steam was thick now, fogging the glass door of the shower and the mirror, giving them both a gauzy sort of privacy. The heady scent of coconut and lemongrass was potent, affecting them both. Branko felt his own colossal cock begin to stir, thickening rapidly. It wasn't just waking up; it was engorging with blood, swelling with a speed and force that bordered on pain as it pressed insistently against the confines of his shorts. He discreetly flipped it up, tucking the throbbing, vein-mapped length against his chiseled stomach, the flared ridge of its head stretching all the way to his chest, poking against the underside of his thick firm pecs. He leaned against the counter, thrusting his hips subtly, the friction a delicious tease as he listened to the sounds from the shower.
Inside, JJ’s mind drifted back to his dream from the morning. The thought of being big, powerful, in control, sent a rush of blood straight to his groin. His cock, which was usually a modest handful, began to harden with an unfamiliar intensity. It wasn't just getting erect; it was growing. The shaft felt thicker in his hand, the skin stretching taut as it pulsed with his heartbeat. He leaned against the tiled wall, enjoying the sensation of the hot water cascading over his expanding length, watching it swell from its typical five inches to a solid, meaty seven, the head flaring out like a mushroom cap. He was so lost in the fantasy that he didn't notice at first. He felt a strange tightness in his chest and looked down. His pecs weren't flat anymore. They were inflating, swelling with new muscle, pushing forward into two solid, rounded mounds. Below them, his stomach was no longer soft but etched with the clear lines of developing abs. His cock, now fully hard at an impressive seven inches, throbbed insistently. It felt... bigger. He brought his hands down to touch it, and froze. The hand that wrapped around his shaft wasn't his own. It was bigger, the paw thicker, the fingers longer. A choked gasp escaped him.
From outside the shower, Branko’s grin widened at the sound. He dropped all pretense, turning to face the fogged glass. His own erection was now demanding release, threatening to rip through the fabric of his shorts. He shucked them off, his massive, moon-pale cock springing free. It was a true beast of a thing, thick as a wrist and already leaking a steady stream of clear pre-cum. He wrapped both of his huge hands around its girth and began to stroke, his eyes glued to the shadowy figure behind the glass.
JJ stared at his new hand, then back at his body. He flexed his arm, and a bicep bulged, a solid knot of muscle that hadn't been there minutes before. He ran his new, larger paw over his chest, feeling the hard, powerful muscle beneath his fur. His ass was next, rounding out into a firm, bubble butt that strained against his thighs as they too began to thicken with muscle and grow longer. He felt a tickle on his chin and reached up to find his scraggly patch of blue hair filling in, spreading into a dark, masculine chinstrap. His breathing grew heavy, ragged. The need to touch himself, to explore this new body, was overwhelming. He forgot all about his roommate. He grabbed his cock, which was still growing. It felt impossibly hard, yet not fully erect. He wrapped his other hand around the shaft, and still, there was more to come. His balls dropped, swelling and growing heavy, churning with a newfound potency that he could feel deep in his gut.
Branko could hear the heavy panting now, punctuated by soft moans. He growled in response, a low, predatory sound, his strokes on his own monstrous shaft becoming faster, more urgent. The scent of male arousal and lemongrass was intoxicating.
JJ’s growth finally slowed, cresting. His cock topped out at a jaw-dropping twelve inches of thick, twitching muscle, his balls hanging below like two ripe tennis balls. He felt his ears brush the top of the shower stall and realized he must be over six and a half feet tall. A dusting of curly white chest hair had sprouted across his powerful pecs, completing the picture of raw, masculine virility. The dream was real. He was the stud. The need, the primal urge to breed, consumed him. He reached out and turned off the water, and without warning, he slid the shower door open. “Hey Branko, look at this!” He called out, his voice a deep warm baritone.
Steam billowed out, revealing him in all his transformed glory. He was magnificent. Branko stopped stroking, his golden eyes drinking in the sight. He didn't say a word, just grinned, a predator admiring his perfect creation. He stepped past the stunned hare and into the shower, pulling the glass door closed behind them. The world outside faded away.
A few weeks later, "The Cottontail" was packed, buzzing with an electric energy for open mic night. The announcer took the stage. "Alright, gentlemen, we have a new talent for you tonight. A fresh face, but I guarantee he's one you'll want to get very, very familiar with. Please give a warm welcome to...'The Jackhammer'!"
The curtain parted, and a 6'7" beefy stud of a Jackrabbit strode into the spotlight. A collective gasp rippled through the room, followed by a wave of appreciative hoots and whistles. Dressed in a tight pair of briefs and an unbuttoned shirt, his powerful, muscular body was on full display. But it was the bulge in his underwear that drew every eye, a formidable package that promised everything his new name implied. He moved with a newfound confidence, his body rolling to the music as he slowly and perfectly stripped. Cash rained down on the stage. In the front row, Branko sat back, a wide, proud grin on his face. He caught Jack’s eye as the hare finished his routine, his powerful body glistening under the lights. Jack gave a subtle nod, a promise in his gaze, and Branko tossed a large bill onto the stage. Something told the hrothgar that Jack "The Jackhammer" was going to be very, very popular.