Florian's Magic Tree

Flo­ri­an was one of these tiny adorable kids hired by count d'Or­chaun to ac­com­pa­ny the no­ble din­ners at the man­sion with the charm­ing sound of their lutes and flutes.

The mu­sic was sim­ple but beau­ti­ful and the count, who re­al­ly was in love with his vil­lage, would al­ways rather spon­sor the vil­lage kids than hire the ful­ly ed­u­cat­ed peo­ple from the cap­i­tal. Even the count's son, Ju­lian, adopt­ed the same ten­den­cy and was close friends with a num­ber of vil­lagers his age.

But the mu­sic was not the on­ly pret­ty thing that Flo­ri­an wit­nessed in the man­sion dur­ing these per­for­mances, of­ten this per­son named Matthew, who was ru­mored to be the lover of the count's son, would come to show some­thing in­cred­i­ble on top of a large wood­en keg.

A late teenag­er, much old­er than Flo­ri­an who was on­ly a kid at the time, but odd­ly break­ing the age bar­ri­er and putting Flo­ri­an's head com­plete­ly in the clouds, dream­ing of... strange­ly, not about Matthew per­son­al­ly, as much as about these im­pos­si­ble bends that be­gan to fill Flo­ri­an's head day and night...

"Bend it here a lit­tle more," Flo­ri­an's teacher of mu­sic would try to di­rect the child's frag­ile but dex­ter­ous fin­gers lay­ing on the strings of the lute. Flo­ri­an's heart would jump and mouth give out a sigh, as al­ways when peo­ple used that part of the vo­cab­u­lary: bend, fold, flex­i­ble, soft, pli­ant... all these words sound­ed al­most as if they were charged with elec­tric­i­ty.

Flo­ri­an would look at the clock... still an hour or two to prac­tice mu­sic but then... then fi­nal­ly rush to her most se­cret hide­out to prac­tice some­thing com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent!

But not mat­ter the push­ing, pant­i­ng, groan­ing and even cry­ing, Flo­ri­an's back felt just like a piece of wood! It would rather break from all that pres­sure than bend even half way to Flo­ri­an's goal. Af­ter each such "ses­sion" she cried in­to a pil­low, un­able to un­der­stand how that damned Matthew does it so eas­i­ly...

Lit­tle by lit­tle, day by day, Flo­ri­an end­ed up de­spis­ing Matthew more and more, sus­pect­ing that the amaz­ing skill was just a re­sult of some po­tion, balm, or worse... some mag­ic that re­placed Matthew's body parts with those of a snake...

When­ev­er Matthew came to per­form, Flo­ri­an would now usu­al­ly stare some­where else, while con­tin­u­ing to pull the strings. It was a shame to ac­com­pa­ny that cheat­ing with the lute-play­ing skills that were re­al and pol­ished the hard way... while peo­ple's eyes were glued to the cheater, while the beau­ti­ful melodies pro­duced by the clas­si­cal­ly trained fin­gers were mere­ly some unim­por­tant back­ground.

"Mas­ter Mills, did you call for me?" a beau­ti­ful teenag­er grace­ful­ly walked in­to the rear, "staff on­ly" room of the tav­ern owned by Matthew's dad, Eu­gene Mills, the fa­mous innkeep­er and beer brew­er.

In the room there was on­ly Matthew alone, prac­tic­ing some leg stretch­es. "Oh, come in, friend. How are your stud­ies go­ing?"

"Just learned a new pas­sage, would be so per­fect for that part where, af­ter the head­sit, you stretch and slide low­er and low­er... Would you like to lis­ten?"

"Flo­ri­an, I..." Matthew stood up al­most clum­si­ly for the el­e­gant stretch he was just do­ing. "I no­ticed some­thing the oth­er day, af­ter the show, when you stood up, put your lute away and stretched a lit­tle... ex­cept it wasn't a lit­tle, I don't think even a per­son your age can nor­mal­ly stretch like that..."

"Mas­ter Mills, I... I..."

"Flo­ri­an, why are you so wor­ried? If you're a lit­tle bit flex­i­ble, there's noth­ing wrong with that, but you shouldn't keep it just for your­self. So I called you to ask if you could show me that stretch again, maybe?"

"C- cer­tain­ly, mas­ter Mills..." Flo­ri­an raised her arms as if for a morn­ing stretch but then... her head tilt­ed back­wards, the tor­so curved and the top of the head touched the teenag­er's own butt.

With­out say­ing any­thing, Matthew grabbed the bendy teen, pushed over the desk and lift­ed Flo­ri­an's legs up. In­stead of get­ting up­set, Flo­ri­an al­most me­chan­i­cal­ly bent her legs in the knees and the bare feet land­ed on top of her own head. With­out wait­ing much, Matthew pushed on the knees and her feet stepped down on the shoul­ders and then on the desk's sur­face to the sides of her face.

Matthew gulped as he met lit­er­al­ly no re­sis­tance at all from the teen's body, it felt as easy as bend­ing a plushie toy, so he con­tin­ued by pulling the feet in­ward to be able to push the knees fur­ther down on the desk. The rub­bery body did on­ly some­what re­sist when the knees were pushed all the way to the desk's sur­face.

See­ing that Matthew stopped push­ing, Flo­ri­an crawled her shoul­ders fur­ther out be­tween her thighs and leaned on the el­bows, lift­ing her head quite far above the desk, un­til the back of it pushed against the crotch.

"Whoa..." Matthew on­ly gasped. "But... how?"

"I... Mas­ter Mills," Flo­ri­an's voice was a bit shak­ing but still mirac­u­lous­ly sta­ble for this po­si­tion. "I'm afraid I had dis­cov­ered your se­cret tree..." The teenag­er sighed, smil­ing shame­ful­ly.

"Oh, so it's my sec... Wait, my what??"

"Hehe, I mean that one, be­hind the moun­tain if you walk around 20 min­utes, that re­al­ly curvy and twisty one... Mmm, well, at first I was re­al­ly jel­ly of your bend­ing skills and... -hnn-... I- I tried to stretch on my bed at home but I was stiff like a board... But sud­den­ly... -ghnn- I dis­cov­ered your Mag­ic Tree and it taught me the head­sit in no time! And then a full back­fold too, and then over­splits!"

"Wow, I've nev­er known there was such a use­ful tree around... Can you show it to me?"

Flo­ri­an was so sur­prised that al­most pulled her neck, try­ing to stare at Matthew. "What?! You don't even know about that mag­ic tree?? Then how the hell... I'm sor­ry, h- how did you get so flex­i­ble, Mas­ter Mills??"

"I've nev­er even seen the tree you're talk­ing about... Damn, you got me cu­ri­ous now! But as for me, I guess I got so flex­i­ble most­ly thanks to my dad who stretched me, like, re­al­ly a lot since a young age. And I know that 'stiff like a board' feel­ing, you just have to be su­per pa­tient and give it sev­er­al months of hard train­ing... Then, I al­so got friends who love to help with stretch­ing. It's sur­pris­ing how much peo­ple love to as­sist with stretch­ing ac­tu­al­ly, but... se­ri­ous­ly, am I the very first per­son to stretch you at all? Be­sides that... tree of yours?"

"Mmm, yes, I... I'd say so, Mas­ter Mills. You're al­so the first per­son to see what I'm... ca­pa­ble of." Flo­ri­an sud­den­ly had very mixed feel­ings about her­self. So, Matthew wasn't cheat­ing af­ter all? In that case... the on­ly cheater now is... her­self?

"Hey," Matthew in­ter­rupt­ed Flo­ri­an's un­pleas­ant thoughts. "May I ask, how com­fort­able are you feel­ing in this po­si­tion ac­tu­al­ly?"

"Oh, I'm fine, why? You want to try bend­ing some more? I think I can, if you don't mind wait­ing for about ten min­utes of some warm-ups I have to do first..."

"No, not yet... I mean I'd love to see, but... it's not what I want­ed to ask. How long can you hold this one pose, five min­utes, ten min­utes?"

"Pfff, think a cou­ple of hours eas­i­ly, Mas­ter Mills. I al­ways prac­tice my lute in this pose, 'cept I pre­fer to have my legs crossed un­der my chest, so I can hold the lute prop­er­ly..."

"Se- se­ri­ous­ly?? Would you... play some­thing for me?" Matthew helped Flo­ri­an to al­ter the po­si­tion to how she liked it and hand­ed her the lute.

"Okay. I'll play that new pas­sage I learned then," Flo­ri­an smiled. "Sor­ry if I make a cou­ple of mis­takes, I'm a bit ner­vous..."

"Me too, ac­tu­al­ly, so I doubt I'd hear the mis­takes. I just re­al­ly want to see how you will do it."

"Al­right," Flo­ri­an took the lute, and be­gan play­ing

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