This is a setting my friend FreakyViking and I have been developing, originally just as a fun thought experiment, but it's gotten way bigger since then, with custom languages and a detailed map and all sorts of deep lore.
The two nations of Fárdiz and Karusam are at odds because of their contrasting religions. The people of Fárdiz follow their goddess of beauty, the Lady Eagle, whom they worship by imitating the limber postures of her saints: wide, beautiful splits. In Karusam, people follow a different deity: The serpent Tong Se, who teaches them to strive for reaching enlightenment by practicing bending their backs, not spreading their legs. It is a deep crisis of opposing beliefs.
Unlike many, Ferret feels at home in both nations. He has just been appointed the Heavenly Prophet of Karusam, the youngest in recorded history, and he is committed to ending the hostilities between the faiths. But can he succeed at this monumental task?
“Good morning, sunshine! It’s time to get up!”
Pushing the guest room door open with one raised foot while balancing a tray of breakfast in both hands, the young man named Weasel filled the dusty morning air with his beautiful, clear voice. “I’ve been missing you downstairs–”
He paused, surprised to find the room silent and the pillow on the bed, where his travelling companion was supposed to be, empty. Absentmindedly closing the door behind him with his foot, he set down the tray when suddenly, a muffled groan could be heard coming from under the bedsheets.
“There you are!” shouted Weasel as he pulled back the sheets, “Don’t tell me you’ve–”
His suspicions were right: Ferret, his companion, was hiding snugly under the blanket, his spine bent backwards and curled in on itself so tightly that his head and shoulders were nestled between his own bent legs in a perfect triplefold. Still half asleep, he hugged his own leg like an oversized stuffed toy as he slowly regained consciousness.
“Again!” exclaimed Weasel, “I can’t believe it! At this point, you might as well sleep in the laundry bucket! That would save us some of the travelling expenses…”
“You’re so funny…” mumbled Ferret, “Acting like you haven’t spent the night curled up even tighter.”
Weasel dismissed it with a wave of his hand as he poured out juice into glasses on the tray. “That’s different. I’m a monk! You know very well that in Karusam, every devout young man sleeps like this! In the monastery they didn’t even have normal sized beds, just small, square pillows!”
It was true in a sense. Obviously, Weasel using the words ‘every young man’ probably reflected his ideas about a proper lifestyle more than the reality of his home nation, the mystical kingdom of Karusam – But among the monks in their mountain monasteries and the devout pilgrims worshipping the Karusamian god, Tong Se (the Snake of Heaven), sleeping upright in a “normal” position was indeed seen as impious and mundane. As for himself, Weasel probably couldn’t even fall asleep properly without the comforting weight of his own thighs on his shoulders, or at least his soft buttcheeks as a pillow under his head.
“If it’s proper, then why are you making such a fuss?” asked Ferret as he untangled himself, “It’s incredibly comfortable, as you well know!”
“No fuss! I was just thinking, it’s no wonder people call you the heavenly prophet! It’s nothing short of amazing, the kind of natural talent you have for bending your spine. You’re from Fárdiz, after all! Everyone there is as stiff as a branch of wood!”
The Fárdizian Empire, while geographically neighboring Karusam, was culturally a far cry from the oriental realm. Fárdiz rejected the traditions of the Tong Se monks and their religion of the ever-winding snake, flexible and flowing like water, and instead worshipped their own deity, the Lady Eagle of Wide Wings. The two cultures of spiritual practice could not have been more different, and these differences were the polar ice freezing the relationship between both nations.
“You’re a joke,” retorted Ferret, “And that’s just stupid prejudice. I have been practicing to fold for almost six years, ever since that day I visited Karusam and saw the pilgrims praying. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from their poses, it was hypnotizing. I’ve been training ever since.”
Weasel accepted that claim with an honest nod. “I won’t deny you’ve become an incredible practitioner. There is probably no young man in all of Karusam who can fold like you, not even the best of the warrior monks! But still…” Weasel’s expression grew concerned as he leaned forward, as if whispering forbidden truths, “You well know that just for this fact, everyone in Fárdiz will hate you! They’ll call you a heretic, a traitor to the faith!”
Ferret put down his glass, a bit surprised at the sudden shift of Weasel’s tone. “I already told you,” he said, “I’ll show them all how wrong they are. It’s simply idiotic to think that just because you fold your back and the other person spreads their legs, you’re now destined to be mortal enemies. At some point in the future, the Church of the Lady and the Tong Se will join to become one large, beautiful community where everybody practices both faiths, just like me!”
Weasel couldn’t help but smile at the optimism of his companion. “I’m just worried for your safety, as every proper escort should be. I heard that in Fárdiz, the inquisition puts you on a wooden bench and pushes your chest back to see how far your spine can fold, and if it’s too far, they’ll condemn you as a heretic and throw you in jail!”
Ferret looked at him in stunned disbelief. “That’s absurd,” he responded after a moment. Weasel just gave him a shrug, so he added: “Thank the Lady we’re on our way to Fárdiz, you badly need to actually spend some time there. I don’t even want to think about what other kinds of scary fairy tales they’re telling in Karusam about their neighbors. You’ll see, once the Fárdizians see what I can do, they’ll understand that splits and folds don’t need to be enemies. They’re meant to complement each other like a beautiful couple. As if the Lady Eagle of Wide Wings and the Serpent of Heaven were married and had a beautiful, chubby little baby.”
Each added word of that sentence turned Weasel’s face from pink to purple and eventually some sort of greenish blue. “Please–” he managed to press out through his cringing mouth, “Do not say that while we’re there, they’ll actually throw you in jail or do Serpent-knows-what!”
Now it was Ferret’s turn to dismiss him with a wave of his foot. “I’m not stupid, you know. All I’ll do is show everyone how beautifully both faiths can be combined! They will love it, you’ll see.”
Weasel was not convinced. He had carried his doubts about his companion’s bold (and heretical, many would say) plan to build some sort of cross-cultural bridge between splits and folds ever since they had started their journey. Had it been for him to decide, they would never have left, but as the warrior monk escort assigned to safeguard the heavenly prophet, it was his duty to follow every whim of his master. And the heavenly prophet had a lot of whims, at times.
“Do you really think you have what it takes to convince random Fárdizian peasants to convert to your new religion?” He asked. “You’ve lived in Karusam for so long, can you even still spread your legs at all? Do a split right now! To prove it!”
Ferret stared at him in surprise, then cleared his throat nervously, looking around on his bed. “You’re– you’re doing that on purpose! It’s tricky on a soft bed like this! But–” He swallowed his brief moment of insecurity and gathered his composure again, “–Of course I can! I can put my legs in places you wouldn’t even believe!”
Weasel mumbled something about having “a very vivid imagination” as he watched the heavenly prophet getting settled properly on the soft mattress. It only took Ferret a moment to find a comfortable, balanced spot, then he raised both of his feet to the sides and put them in opposite directions onto the bed, forming a perfectly straight line with both legs as he extended them. Noticing the badly masked surprise on Weasel’s face and the whispered “Without a warm-up?!”, he gave his escort a triumphant grin and casually said: “Oh, that already counts as impressive for you, Karusam boy? You haven’t seen anything yet.” With that, he moved his legs even further onto the bed behind him, forming a wider and wider angle until each leg extended diagonally backwards from his hip. Putting his hands on both ankles and leaning back slightly to get comfortable, Ferret watched with great amusement as Weasel tried to process this sudden display of incredible devotion to the great Lady. He noticed also how Weasel’s eyes went back and forth along his legs, gravitating more and more toward his widely opened hips, which sat just at the edge of the mattress so that under the loose skirt he was wearing as sleep wear, his long manhood dangled gently back and forth in front of the side frame of the bed, with a considerable part peeking out from under the short skirt due to the sheer length of it. While Ferret was in no sense of the word overly manly, having neither a muscular build nor any body hair, his dick was of such length even in its unaroused state that it seemed almost ludicrous.
“That’s–” stammered Weasel as a pink tint shot onto his cheeks, “–not what legs are supposed to do, I mean that’s just unnatural…”
Ferret normally didn’t have much tolerance for religious prejudice, but sometimes he made exceptions for Weasel. After all, it wasn’t his fault that people in Karusam believed all sorts of really offensive bullshit, even some of the esteemed master monks. So he swallowed his urge to protest and, noticing a growing bulge in Weasel’s harem pants, instead said in a low, seductive voice: “You know, some people find it really hot when you’re being a stupid, bigoted asshole...”
Weasel took a few steps towards the bed and leaned in, extending a hand to touch Ferret’s bare legs, seemingly hypnotized by their angelic beauty. That was his big mistake.
“Not me though!!” shouted Ferret and gave his escort’s hand a thundering slap that sent Weasel flinching back in pain, “I hate it! Stop saying these things!” He threw his fists in Weasel’s direction, but being seated in an incredible oversplit on the bed, he had no reach and ended up looking incredibly silly.
That was enough to make Weasel smile again. Being a traditionally trained warrior monk and having undergone the intense, rigorous training of the Tong Se monks in the Karusamian mountains, his own prowess in unarmed combat was immense and without equal among the common masses of both Karusam and Fárdiz, so whenever he saw his travelling companion Ferret, the heavenly prophet, throw hands like this he couldn’t help being filled with adoration towards this angel of cuteness, and an intense urge to protect him at all costs.
“I’m… very sorry for being stupid,” he said as he tried one more time to reach for Ferret’s skirt, “I’m a monk from the mountains, all I know is how man can reach the highest pleasures of heavenly delights…”
This time, Ferret let it happen, and a cute little moan escaped his lips as Weasel ran his fingers down the entire length of the heavenly prophet’s dick, sending shivers through Ferret’s extended legs as his dick began to harden.
“You shouldn’t,” Ferret said with a frown. “It’s better if I save it all for the ritual later...”
“A little something to get out of bed can’t hurt, great prophet,” whispered Weasel into his ear as he grabbed Ferret’s slim waist with his other hand. “I’ve heard that spreading the legs to be more like the Lady Eagle of Wide Wings has potent side effects on the faithful, not unlike what certain kinds of folding the spine can do. I didn’t expect you to be such a devotee of the Lady–” He held Ferret’s waist tightly while stroking his companion’s hard cock, now less resembling the nimble snake from before and instead feeling more like a hard, long rod. Ferret could not keep himself from moaning softly with every motion of Weasel’s hand.
“–But from what I can see,” Weasel finished his sentence, “You really are pious in both faiths. And I can’t believe how cute the sounds you’re making are.”
“Ahh… Alright, fine–” Ferret managed to say, leaning back onto the bed, the pleasure intensely amplified by the extreme oversplit he was still in. Encouraged, Weasel went to work more and more vigorously, and after only a couple of seconds, Ferret exhaled a loud, long sigh of intense relief as streaks of white cum shot from the tip of his cock, arching over Weasel’s shoulder and painting the breakfast table white.
“Oh no…” gasped Ferret exhaustedly, struggling to form words in between his exasperated moans of afterglow, “I ruined the pastries! I’m so sorry…”
Weasel reached down toward his shoulder to lick up a drop of cum with his long tongue, then picked up one of the pastries, now glazed with white liquid.
“Well well, now if I was a complete freak…” he said slowly while opening his mouth.
“No!!!” cried Ferret desperately, still too weak and too contorted on the bed to stop him.
“Relax, I’m just joking,” said Weasel with a grin, only licking parts of the cum from the top instead of actually taking a bite. “I have to say though, I’ve never tasted anyone so sweet. You truly are from heaven.”
He knew this would make Ferret’s face turn red, and he was right. “Aw, thank you,” Ferret stammered, “That’s such a weirdly nice thing to say, I–”
The rest was silenced by Weasel’s lips. His tongue explored the heavenly prophet’s mouth for a short moment, then he pulled back and stood up.
“Master, you need to clean up,” he said. “Don’t worry about the mess here, I’ll deal with it. Head over to the bath house and I’ll meet you there.”
Ferret nodded, still a bit dizzy from the afterglow of cumming all over the table. He untangled himself on the bed and stood up, then picked up his clothes and made his way towards the bath while Weasel salvaged what could still be saved from the breakfast tray. The Fárdizian truffles were almost as delicious as Ferret’s cum.