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The crowd looked at her and laughed at her and they were all upside-down.

"And if my puns didn't please you, remember a groat is always better than a groan!" Tam said.

She stage-winked and nodded toward the wide open pouch beneath her. There were a couple snickers, a few groans all the same, and some flashes of coins flicking into the depths of the pouch.

Tam unwound her legs from the second-story bannister. Her hands clutched the edge for a pivot and she swung down into a roll, tucked into a ball. Everything pitched around her and she tumbled until the ground was coming up underneath her and she landed, feet-first, arms outstretched, smiling. She was greeted by gentle applause. She kept up the smile until the crowd was breaking up and drifting away into the market and there were no profits to be lost by snatching up her pouch.

She felt at the coins and picked out by texture two rounded pebbles someone had tossed in. She dropped them and counted out the coins in her palm. A couple pennies, a couple groats.

Not great for a routine she'd been practicing for a few days. The pennies bought her some bread and a big cup of cider at one of the bars that opened onto the market street. Most who ran a business here had gotten used to seeing her freckles and dust-brown hair which always looked a bit like she'd just been hanging upside-down and her unrelenting grin even in the face of a poor haul.

The gypsy wagon, now that was new. It was parked up against the stone wall. A slightly curved roof sat over the gaudy ribbons painted along its sides, garish and skillfully childish in their brightness. Outlines of doorways and hatches hid beneath the paint. In the middle, a pair of doors opened wide onto the dim interior of the wagon. From one door to another hung a banner reading 'Charmes & Divers Exoticks'. Tam stuffed the last piece of bread into her mouth, then scaled the steps leading into the wagon's darkness.

Tall shelves were packed into the interior of the wagon and were stuffed tightly with golden rings and blue stone snakes from Egypt and silver statues from Spain and porcelain cups from the East. A pair of lips caught her eye, glimmering red with a glassy polished gloss. She crouched down to look closer and lifted the lips, and the whole face, from underneath a pile of silks.

The mask she held was made of fine china, in the shape of a smooth oval and with the face of a plump-lipped, serenely beautiful woman sculpted into it. The surface was remarkably smooth and had the peachy-flesh color of real skin. There were fine tracks of makeup painted around the eye holes, a dusting of red against the cheeks, and a little part between the thick lips that allowed one's voice to escape.

"You want that?" the gypsy asked.

Her jewelry tinkled faintly as she leaned on her miniature counter at the far end of the wagon. There was a bit of a bored look behind the thick dark hair and heavy eyeliner. Tam imagined a gypsy girl of about her own age had young men to charm and curses to pass out and wouldn't be happy sitting around a shop.

"It's ancient, all the way from Constantinople. They say it's what Empress Theodora wore when she performed in the streets," she said.

She paused while Tam stared at the mask's face.

"There's an enchantment on it, too," she continued. "It'll help you earn money if you're an actor or a performer."

Tam turned the mask over and felt the silk straps along the sides.

"Two pence," Tam said.

"If you're not serious about buying something, you can leave. That's a shilling, at least."

"A groat, then."

"Anything less than two groats and I lose money."

"Fine. One groat, two pennies."

"Make it three pennies." The gypsy girl was glaring now.

Tam pushed the coins into her palm, then held them out toward the shopkeeper. "Deal," she said.

The gypsy girl picked up the seven pence and nodded. "Fine."

Tam left with the mask in hand, holding it in her fist by the straps. If it was enchanted, she could make back the money she spent on it. If not, it wasn't the first time she'd gone without dinner because of a hasty choice.

She slid into an alleyway where she wouldn't be noticed. She wanted to get used to wearing the mask before trying to perform with it. She lifted up the straps and looped them over her ears, then down behind her head. She tugged the silk tightly and bound it with a bow beneath her hair.

The sculpted interior of the mask fit snugly against her face, close enough that there were no shadows against her eyes. The sculpted interior parted her lips slightly to fit into the pouty mold. The nose squeezed lightly against her own, but she could manage. The real test would be to see whether it affected her concentration.

With a running start she scrambled a few feet up a wall, then sprung to an overhanging rafter. She swung back and forth twice, then swung back and tucked in as she flung herself up. She tumbled, rising, catching the eaves of a roof with the tips of her fingers. She cringed, but the mask hid her expression. She curled her back, twisting her body up over the eaves until her feet had the roof beneath them. She uncurled, rising slowly, standing on the roof and looking down at the alley.

That had been a good sixteen feet in a couple of seconds. That was amazing! She had thought she would fall for sure, but the mask...either it was working, or it was making her confident enough that it might as well have been working. Whichever it was, Tam kept pushing it.

Toes on the edge of the roof, she tipped herself over and flipped gently through the air. She caught the rafter from before, tucked into a roll that sent her around once, then twice, then kicked out with her legs and stopped herself. One foot hung on the rafter, her arms outstretched and barely missing the ground, hair hanging down but mask firmly affixed to her head. Her shirt slumped down around her shoulders and the two budding handfuls of her breasts hung out for the empty alley to see.

Tam dropped to her hands and tipped herself back onto her feet. She was sure she'd tucked her shirt in, but it must have come undone during the act. Her shirt only managed to tuck in as far as the hem, though, despite her fidgeting with it and with her pants to get everything tied down.

With a jab of curiosity, she scooped her hands up over her chest, gathering together the soft flesh there, trying to weigh it in her hands and judge if it was heavier than when she last remembered. Maybe she was going through a growth spurt, finally 'blossoming', whatever you wanted to call it--to her, it meant her center of gravity would be completely off. She let go, and her breasts jiggled gently against her loose shirt. When had that started? Just another infuriating step toward womanhood, she thought.

Even with her soft puffing, the mask didn't impede her breathing much, nor did it seem to get hot and sweaty despite its close fit. It didn't even squeeze her nose any more, which she realized only a while after the tight feeling had stopped.

Tam continued to test the limits of what she could do now, how quickly she could flip, how nimbly she could grasp a handhold, how tightly she could twist her back. This was fantastic! She'd be ready for some solid afternoon work. She breathed tightly behind the mask. Her lips rested more snugly inside the thick indentations made by the glossy pout.

Her hair met her shoulders for the first time in years and its dusty sheen was gone. The brown locks glimmered like spun silk, like the straps which were now hidden behind the gentle rolls of curls.

Tam was back in the market before long, hitching up her pants and trying one last time to tuck in her shirt. No luck there. Her hips and legs felt limber after her practice, in spite of the stitching of her pants digging in against her ass and wrapping around it.

Tam planned out the act in her head. This time, she wasn't going to almost get locked up for destruction of property. One last breath, and she was off. Running start against the arch, jump to the lamppost, swing up and--ah! On top of one of the stalls, balanced perfectly on the beam that supported its roof. The mask was drawing people's eyes and they were watching her. Good, she needed eyes on her. More people watching meant more money.

Cartwheel across the beam ending on the left foot, jump to the next, then somersault with hands and feet together, flip in the air. Wooden roofs whipped by beneath her and she couldn't see a single shopkeeper in their stall long enough to see them scowling. She was being safe this time. She could feel the little shifts in the beams she stood on, how they wobbled gently under her weight. She could tell to lean slightly to aim her jump. It was instant and all according to plan all at once.

The last jump sent her out into the air. She could hear gasps. Good! She was in the air, out of control but knew just what she was doing. Wrap legs around a lamppost, grab the bag with one hand as the world whirls around--and then she was hanging upside-down, firmly gripping the post with her thighs. Everyone was staring now. She smiled beneath the mask, to herself, and jingled the coins in her bag invitingly.

It was only after the small shower of coins, as she pulled herself down arm then leg then other arm and the last leg on the ground, that she saw her shirt had fallen again. It hung off the top of her breasts, having displayed them to the crowd for the past minute or two. How many of those coins were from the peep show and not her act? ...And did it really matter that much? She emptied out the bag and counted the money in her hands. Not when she was getting a dinner this good tonight, it didn't.

She tugged the shirt back down over her perky, weighty breasts, two bold, overflowing handfuls that made her shirt show a sliver of her belly above the waistband of her pants. Pants which were riding down again, making her have to yank them back up until they sat fully above the swell of her ass.

While Tam sat down to take a breath, she thought about how much more money she made--now the question returned: had she done well because she was so stunningly acrobatic now, or because she had flashed an entire crowd and made a show of it? She'd always felt strongly about not letting being a girl (well, a young woman, but close enough) have much to do with what she did, but her morals were flexible when money was on offer. She couldn't do it on purpose, but if her shirt happened to fly up...

Tam giggled to herself, which was odd. She was cheery, yes, but she hardly giggled. She put her fingers to the mask's lips, then got up from her seat and headed for a clothing shop.

About half an hour later, Tam, wearing her newly-purchased skirt and stockings, a pleasantly rich red and lighter pink respectively, stood in an open space near a trickling fountain as shoppers moved around on all sides. She stood for only a moment, as the next she was on her hands, the next standing on the base of the fountain, then flipping in the air, landing with a handstand.

Her breasts were definitely hanging out by now, and there'd been at least a couple of upskirt flashes, but just to give everyone a chance, she folded her arms across the ground, propped up on her shoulders and slowly curling her back until her feet were over her shoulders, toes pointed at the ground, giving those who could crane their necks upward a glance down at the pinkish-red stockings between her thighs. She plucked her pouch off of her belt, tugged the strings open with her big toe, and set it in front of her.

"Donations welcome," she cooed in a remarkably airy tone.

Counting up her money from her latest act, safely back out of the crowd again, she was delighted to find that she could eat for the next two days off what she had made. Tam giggled to herself again, and her grinning cheeks were reflected on the mask's visage.

"Y'know, you guys are doing so much for me," she said, no longer even bothering to fight the light, syrupy tone in her voice. She hugged her breasts, squeezing them up against her masked face from underneath and nuzzling into them. They were weighty and shifted within her grasp, the warm flesh wobbling as she gave them a loving embrace.

The mask barely even weighed on her face anymore; it felt like a thin layer, almost nothing, barely sitting between her face and the world. She didn't feel for the edge, but if she had, she would have found the mask wrapped around the sides of her head and creeping down her neck. The porcelain was no longer stiff but flexible, like a second, smoother, skin.

"You too," she said, twisting herself around to look at her ass, to pat it and squeeze it between her fingers. "I love you so much," she said, then giggled again. She was feeling so giddy right now.

As her hair spilled out into ringlets she ran her hand through it, tossing it happily behind her and letting it bounce along her back. She was already planning her next act. She couldn't believe she'd refused to use her femininity before. So many people would pay to see her working her tits and her ass.

Tam had wrapped herself around a lamppost again, but this time, she wasn't flinging herself down the street. Her legs twisted around the post to keep her steady. She leaned out, hands free to pull up her shirt and shake her chest. Her breasts wobbled and bounced with their own weight and she slurped up the stares like a thirsty dog.

She turned herself over with a few motions of her legs and lay back against the post, upside-down, back against the beam, letting go with her legs while her arms held on beneath her. She bent her back outward, lowering her hips and keeping her legs gracefully curled. The view up her skirt offered a glimpse of her bare pussy, framed by shapely, strong thighs and her rounded ass. She pulled herself back against the beam and rode it, grinding her hips against it, pushing her chest around it and squeezing her bare breasts together. Everyone was watching. She was getting excited for real. Maybe she could finger herself--

"Get off there right now!" The broad voice cut through the crowd as a guard forced his way through. "Move along!" he barked at the crowd, then plucked Tam off of the beam, turned her right-side-up, and carted her away from the square with an arm holding onto her tightly.

She hadn't even gotten to make money from that! She'd put a lot of work into it, too. This wasn't fair and she was... Her mind drifted off a little as she looked at the guard's face. Her breasts squeezed against her shirt, two warm mounds begging to be freed. She ran her tongue lightly along her red lips--once the mask's, but now unquestionably her own.

"What you were doing goes against every decency law on the books," the guard said, then looked down at her. He wished he hadn't. From afar she'd just looked like another harlot performer, but up close, he could see the flawless, almost china-like look of her skin, the thick pout of her lips, the way her breasts were jostling for freedom underneath her shirt.

Here next to him, his arm around her shoulder, was an image of lust. He couldn't speak to her about legal or criminal matters--it would be like trying to tell an immortal about the fear of death. All that was outside her world, a world of sexuality, the world that she was beckoning him into.

Tam was still sulking over her lost profits when she realized that she wasn't being taken toward the guardhouse but into a quiet back alley. Before she had a chance to ask, she was pushed down over a crate with her ass up in the air. She didn't know why this was happening, but she knew how to handle it, somewhere, in the back of her mind. She arched her ass backward, and was met with his shaft digging into her.

Stars popped and colors crashed in iridescent lightning before her eyes. With each thrust, the mask engulfed more of her, slipping down over her waist with its china-smooth skin. She barely noticed, and couldn't care if she did. Everything was in that pleasure burgeoning behind her, the pleasure that rushed forward to fill her body whenever she pumped her hips.

Tam peeled her torso off of the crate and twisted her back far enough that it seemed like she would snap in half. She let her head fall back, so that she was facing the guard, head upside-down to his, still propped up against the crate, still gyrating her hips. Her lips met his in a strange but hot and desperate kiss.

Her back hitched. He was getting quicker, forceful, and more hectic. She could feel a tingling along her thighs, slowly sweeping lower over her knees and then down her shins, bringing a smoothness and a softness to her skin that hadn't been there before. The mask was gone, or maybe it was Tam who was going, swallowed up inside of the mask. A little flicker of worry was drowned in a rush of pleasure shared between the two of them.

The guard said hasty, red-faced goodbyes while Tam sat up n the crate, legs spread open casually. Once he was gone, she dipped a few fingers between her thighs and sucked off the thick fluids that stuck to them. Her thick lips curled around her fingers; they swelled, they plumped, they grew more tender, so that by the time she had sucked the last bit of cum from her fingers, her lips immediately brought to mind the thought of a shaft between them.

A rip now ran through the collar of her shirt and over her expansive bust, showing a long strip of cleavage barely hidden by the ruined shirt. Her slender waist peeked out beneath the shirt, only highlighting the swell of her hips. It was more a bellydancer's body than an acrobat's.

Waves of bright, shimmering blonde hair swung behind her, dangling down along her back. Her thick eyelashes, once only paint on porcelain but now fully real and quite full too, batted a few times.

There was no final stand for her, no last valiant effort to force back the blissful emptiness swirling around her head.

A giggle slipped from Tammi's mouth as she spread herself open with her fingers, and that was it.

"Now--ooh! Mmm, calm down there," Tammi cooed, patting the man between her legs. "Now I need two big strong cocks--I mean men, big strong men from the audience."

The volunteers eagerly clambered up onto the makeshift stage beside the gypsy wagon. Tammi looked them over and licked her plump, inviting lips. She liked their expressions when they imagined fucking her face.

"You look like you appreciate a good pair of tits," she told one of them. "You stand over me, and you," she turned to look at the other one and gave another achingly lustful grunt. The man beneath her just couldn't hold back, it seemed. She ran her hand along his stomach while looking at her second volunteer. "And you stand behind me. Now..."

She waited for them to get into position, then making it look as easy as a simple stretch, she bent her back, chest thrust into the air, head upside-down and looking at the crotch of the man behind her.

"Who wants to bet I can last ten minutes with these three?" she asked. A small, raucous cheer rose from the mostly-male onlookers. "Who wants to bet they can't last ten minutes with me?" She giggled playfully, and another, more jeering cheer greeted her ears.

Tammi opened her mouth, wrapped her arms around her breasts, and descended onto three shafts at once.

"Come onnn, just a little bit!"

Tammi pouted, sticking her chest out in the little pink-and-yellow top Svana had dug up for her to wear.

The gypsy girl shook her head. "I don't like women, and I know better than to mess with the merchandise."

"I'm so tired of playing with my own tits though." Tammi uncoiled herself from the ball she'd twisted herself into, grabbing her heavy breasts and watching them bounce with a glum expression.

Svana shrugged. "Maybe you should try to find some girls at your next show, then."

"I wanna play with some tits now," Tammi insisted.

Svana bit her lip, trying to stifle the moan that came with her chest pressing against the bustline of her dress. She began to untie the back, cheeks flushed, every breath filling her mind with thoughts of getting close to Tammi.

Svana really hated being the shopkeeper.