Once upon a time, there was a young man by the name of Frans van Rijn. Frans, who was only eighteen years old at the time, was a talented painter from Leiden, a small city located in the Republic of the Netherlands. The year was 1625, during the era known as the Dutch Golden Age when Dutch art, culture, science, and trade were thriving. Frans had been accepted into the prestigious University of Leiden, which was a great honor for someone so young. However, despite his academic success, Frans felt unfulfilled. He knew deep down inside that he was meant to be an artist, not just a student. So, one fateful day, Frans decided to take a walk through the bustling streets of Leiden's marketplace.
As Frans meandered through the throngs of people, he noticed something odd happening up ahead. A crowd had formed around a large wooden stage, where a handsome young man was performing incredible feats of flexibility. Frans's eyes widened in astonishment as he watched the young man bend his body in ways that seemed anatomically impossible by any means. His limbs seemed to defy the limitations of the human muscles and tendons, and his muscles rippled beneath his skin as he demonstrated one wondrous posture after another.
The young man was dressed in nothing but tight-fitting leggings and a loose shirt, which made it easier for him to perform his acrobatic feats. Sweat glistened on his fair skin, and his blond hair fell in tangled strands across his face. Despite his exertions, the young man wore a confident smile, clearly enjoying the attention he was receiving from the gathered crowd.
Frans couldn't tear his gaze away from the spectacle unfolding before him. He had never seen anything like it. As a painter, he was well acquainted with the human form – its curves, lines, and contours – but this boy's body was unlike any he had ever encountered. It was as if he were witnessing a living work of art, and Frans felt a sudden urge to capture the moment forever.
After the performance ended, the young man took a bow and gracefully descended from the stage. The crowd applauded him, and several people threw coins onto the platform in appreciation of his skills. Frans pushed his way through the throng of onlookers until he reached the edge of the stage. When the young man turned around, Frans's heart skipped a beat. Those dark, expressive eyes seemed to see right into his soul, and Frans knew he had found the perfect subject for his next painting.
"Excuse me," Frans called out to the young man, who looked at him quizzically. "I am an artist, and I would be honored if you would allow me to paint you."
The young man raised one eyebrow in skepticism, clearly not believing that Frans was a genuine artist at such a youthful age. "Why would I want you to paint me?" the blond asked gruffly.
"Because your beauty is fleeting, but art is eternal," Frans replied earnestly, trying to remember the most suitable quotes. "Your likeness will live on for centuries, long after your physical body has perished."
The young man considered Frans's words for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well," he agreed. "But I must warn you – my body is not like others'. My flexibility may make some people uncomfortable, or even jealous."
Frans smiled warmly. "I am not concerned with appearances, only with capturing the essence of what makes you unique."
And so, the young man agreed to pose for Frans, much to the envy of the other artists in Leiden. They whispered behind their hands, wondering how Frans could have secured such a rare and charming specimen as his model. But Frans paid them no mind, focusing instead on preparing his canvas and paints for the upcoming session.
When the day finally arrived, Frans led the young man into his small studio, where sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over everything. The young man removed his shirt, revealing a slender torso covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He then unlaced his leggings, allowing them to fall to the floor, leaving him completely nude.
Frans felt a thrill of anticipation surge through him as he took in the sight of the boy's angelic physique. His skin seemed almost luminous under the soft light filtering through the curtains, making him appear ethereal and otherworldly.
The young man turned to look around, searching for the ideal spot to showcase his talent. The acrobat seemed well-versed in choosing the best place for his performance, alas Frans could not assist him much at the time – his eyes were helplessly locked onto the curve of the boy's hips, so artfully illuminated by the sun's rays at their most golden. Undoubtedly, the perfect time of day for appreciating the beauty of the human form had arrived.
Finally, the boy spotted what looked like the best location – a small sofa nestled within a cozy little niche near one corner of the room.
"There," the teenager murmured quietly, pointing towards the inviting piece of furniture. "I believe this will make for the ideal backdrop."
Frans nodded in agreement as he prepared his materials for painting. Meanwhile, the young man settled into a comfortable position on the sofa, crossing his legs and leaning back against it. His stomach seemed to naturally sink, accentuating the form of his ribcage and creating a sculptural fold just above his navel, giving him the appearance of an ancient deity.
"So, which particular pose would you like me to assume?" His calm voice sounded as though there was no task beyond his reach.
"I'm afraid to limit you too much if I requested a specific pose," Frans said gently, "I wish to witness your raw potential, your very essence..."
"Essence? Essence... Aha! I have an idea!" The young man opened his eyes and stared intently at Frans for a moment before turning around to face the wall behind him. Grasping onto the edge of the sofa beneath him, and began shifting his knees apart before landing his butt smoothly on the soft surface.
Frans watched in awe as the young man extended his legs to the sides, forming a perfect straddle split. His lithe back, impeccable buttocks, and delicate legs that stretched in a magical way... The spectacle was breathtakingly beautiful, beyond anything Frans could have imagined, surpassing even the masterpieces of the great artists – a stunning embodiment of youthful innocence, bathed in radiant gold.
Suddenly the young man looked back to him. "Do you think you could assist me a little?" His voice was soft but heavy with exhaustion. "Could you lift my legs for me and place my feet inside that niche?"
Frans couldn't contain his excitement when he had the chance to touch the teenager's slender legs, delicately running his fingers over their smooth, toned surface while positioning the teen's feet against the opposite walls. The sensation was reminiscent of molding clay into a desired shape, but infinitely more satisfying.
Once both feet were placed securely within the niche, the young man's legs formed an astonishing 270 degree split, locked between the walls of the niche, while his butt seated comfortably on the sofa below. From this unique vantage point, the boy's body appeared like a celestial sphere suspended in mid-air, radiating pure beauty and grace.
"There," the acrobat whispered, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "How does it look?"