41st of Summer, 513 AV. Eyeballing the crystal clear springs, Matthew tugged his shirt over his head, revealing the slim and firmly-muscled skin below. He had been coming to this spring on a daily basis now, and had met quite a few colorful characters. Sometimes it was a good meeting, sometimes bad, but the springs had continued to do their job perfectly. They had continued to heal his weary body. Glancing down over himself now, he could tell the last few nights had put more visible marks on his body. His toned chest and stomach muscles were traced with angry red scratches, some even crusted from a bit of blood that had leaked through. Wincing, he touched some fingers to them, testing the sore skin. It was all a part of the job, really. Sighing, he loosened his britches and stepped out of them, the tanned harlot slowly made his way into the springs. The warm water touching to his torn skin caused him to clench his jaw in a mixture of pain and delight, a hiss escaping from his full lips. He continued on, until he was about waist deep in the healing liquids, settling down and taking a moment before moving on. He wanted to stretch. He wanted to get more flexible, improve his movement. He moved with a certain grace, and he practiced hip control, but he wanted to go further. He wanted to be able to move his body in very particular ways that most normal men couldn't. Biting his lower lip, he slowly moved himself into position, aiming to try out a few things he had talked to some of the busking Syliras acrobats about. First he sat, legs extended out in front of him. His shoulders straightened and his back flexed, muscles rolling and twitching a bit as he slowly got them ready to really move. Sitting in the waist-deep warm water only helped him feel that much more better, his body instinctively relaxing. Loosening. Helping him limber up for the long task ahead. With a deep breath, he slowly bent, moving only at the waist, sluggishly trying to reach out and touch his pointed toes. The man was barely able to get his hands down past his knees before he felt the tightening in his limbs, ad the sensation of something stretching. Softly groaning, he let himself fall back, somewhat irritated with himself. Taking a deep breath, tight skin twitching again, he slowly reached out once more. His body shivered a bit as he stretched out, feeling the tightness again. The minute he felt the stretching somewhere inside of him, he held the position, letting his body work out what was going on. He stretched and he stretched, until the tightness started to turn to pain. Then he fell back, tanned and almost-bare body relaxing into the steaming waters. He would need to do this more often. It would take quite a while to get where he wanted to be when it came to flexibility and acrobatics. One day though. One day. Biting his lip in thought, he tried one last time. With his back to a small rock, he slowly arched backwards, letting himself bend over it and stretch. His arms flexed out, and the harlot forced himself to hold the position, water dripping down the tightly-tugged skin over muscle. Groaning a bit, he started to feel the blossoming of pain, but still held on. The pain he had gone through to get the marks on his front had been worse than this. |