Pleasure Cruise - Part XVIII

1,000+ words continue into the next part of the evening performance...

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Enjoy!

~ds

The magician held up a hand and Rita took it as she stepped over the woven lip. The basket came up just under the five-and-a-half-foot tall Rita’s knees and as she stood with both feet in it Zynthia motioned for her to crouch down. Rita laughed, turned to the audience, held one hand on her nose and the other over her head and swayed her body down into the formed hemp as if she was a diver sinking underwater.

As Rita’s brunette curls passed down into the basket Zynthia dropped the hemp top onto it. The basket moved for another moment as Rita settled in, then all motion stopped. The bunny magician slowly strutted around her prop, smiling at the audience and making dramatic motions at it.

“Now, some of you may be aware of a mystical performance exaggerated or co-opted by Western performers where someone plays a flute and a mesmerized snake rises from the basket. Others may be aware of another similar one where a rope rises into the sky. This has its origins in both…”

Within the basket Rita could hear Zynthia’s muffled monologue. The space was small, but the excited woman had enough room to be comfortable. Her naked legs and rear brushed against the lightly rough fibers beneath her ass, sending goosebumps across her skin, every tiny hair standing up on end. She giggled and ground her butt down a little harder. She loved the sensation of the rope against her skin.

Rita felt her nipples aching and her pussy wetting as she recalled the last time someone had tied her up, tight cords crisscrossing her skin, circling her breasts and pulling tight over each side of her labia. She pulled her arms in tightly against her chest, reveling in the feeling of restriction. She breathed in the earthy musk of the natural fibers.

It was now that Rita noticed her goosebumps hadn’t receded, every little body hair still standing on end. She held out a hand to investigate but could barely see her skin in the tiny shafts of light let in through the hemp braiding. But she could feel the tingling intensifying at a pleasurable pace, her skin and muscles becoming tighter and tight.

The aroused woman was about to moan loudly when the air caught in her throat. Her skin bristled, twisted, and then suddenly her body felt both loose in mass and deliciously tight in form.

Her monologue finished, Zynthia stopped behind the basket and placed a hand on the lid. With the other she pointed up at the sound booth. “Hit it, Christy!”

As I’m A Genie In A Bottle began playing Zynthia opened the basket. The audience held their breath, most expecting Rita to rise up in a harem outfit. But instead the end of a hempen rope poked upwards from the center of the basket of its own accord.

Slowly, foot by foot, the rope rose straight up, swaying slightly with the beat of the music. Once the end reached eye-level with Zynthia, roughly sixty-six inches up from the bottom of the basket, it held itself in place.

But more rope continued to undulate up, starting to curl around the upper end. As more and more hemp length circled and began to curve downwards broad details began to emerge, such as two dips above a pinched outward portion of the rope roughly at the center of the round shape forming.

Gasps arose from audience members who realized the rope was taking the form of a woman - Rita, specifically. The coiling form tucked inwards at the neck, and then out to drape itself as shoulders and chest. One arm formed, and then the rope crossed over two breasty hills to begin the other limb.

While more of her body formed from the rope Rita’s dancing became more erotic, hempen limbs with mitten-like hands rising over her head to find each other. The rising rope formed the lower curves of her breasts, then a tight midriff, and more generous hips than she sported before. With her bust shaped the hempen paws slid over her woven form and mashed at them.

As the rope’s twisting continued it formed Rita’s left leg, and then crossed her groin to form the left. The nature of the hemp’s folding caused a crease at the center of her groin that appeared to be her womanly cleft. Her hands slid down the rough surface as the other end of her rope subsistence slid back up from her heel, through her tant, and formed a large clit with its end knob.

Rita was now nothing more than a tightly twisted hemp rope, curled and twisted around to form a womanly shape roughly similar to one she’d held as flesh and bone. Although the masterbating form standing before the applauding crowd didn’t look bound to anything, Rita didn’t feel that way. Every inch of her hemp fibers were twisted around each other, a tight binding that spread through more than twenty feet of her twine being.

Her entire form was in permanent bondage with itself.

Zynthia laughed and guided one mitten-like rope hand from Rita’s groin, helping her coiled limbs step out of the basket. There was no spring-like tension bound up in the former woman’s shape, and as her legs lifted and stepped the coiled braids separated and shifted with the movement. While Rita had bent her knee roughly where the slight bulge in her leg’s shape indicated a kneecap, it was obvious she had no bones within her to strictly dictate how she was moving.

In fact, the entirety of Rita’s form swayed and wobbled like someone trying to carry a slinking upright. It wasn’t that Rita couldn’t hold this form, it’s just that doing so took concentration.

And at the moment - and probably most moments from now on - Rita’s mind was focused on the blissful rubbing and tight constriction her thin reshaping was constantly experiencing.

“Enjoying yourself?” Zynthia asked. Since Rita could no longer speak, and the features of her “face” were not detailed enough to fully display the euphoria conquering her consciousness, she broadly through her “head” up and down. The audience applauded again as Zynthia helped guide the rope woman to the steps, and Rita wavered her way back to her seat.

“Just wait until she finds someone willing to tie themselves up with her,” the rabbit magician winked. “Now, for my final act of the evening, I’ll need two volunteers.”

to be continued...