The rest of the day acquired a kind of rhythm. We walked around the show floor for a few hours, with people routinely stopping me for pictures. I was worried Daddy would get annoyed by the constant interruption, but he not only remained pretty chill about it, he normally had a big smile on his face when it happened. He often offered to take photos if someone wanted to pose with me.
“No one is being creepy towards you,” he explained. “And they love your costume. So I’m perfectly happy with how things are going.”
He headed off to a panel an hour or so later and I went to an area where cosplayers were hanging out. I watched as he walked away. Yes, I was checking out his ass, but I realized how much more relaxed I was at this year’s con. There was no senseless drama, there was no worrying about if I was being too slutty or if he liked me.
He loved me. I loved him. I would see him again in a few hours and I’d feel my heart do a little bounce when it happened.
The one thing I’d underestimated was how exhausted I would be at the end of the day. When the con closed at 7 pm, all I wanted to do was grab some food, cuddle my Daddy for a little bit and pass out. Which is exactly what happened. Parties and events were happening all over the place. A few of the cosplayers invited me out to a bar later in the evening. I said I wasn’t 21 yet and they gave me a look like that was the stupidest argument ever. Still, they let me get away with it.
By the time Daddy woke up the next morning I was already up and was wrestling between costumes. I’m sure if I had let him, he would have had them all planned out in advance, but that’s not how I worked. It was how I felt when I got up in the morning.
The problem was, this morning I felt like Red Sonja. I was itching to wear the outfit, but wearing a chainmail bikini and armor at one of the largest comic cons in the world was a little daunting. It seemed like a great idea when I was packing it. Well, when Soo was packing it. But having spent a day at the con, I wasn’t sure.
I didn’t think anyone would try anything. “Cosplay isn’t Consent” signs were all over the place and most guys knew if they even thought about misbehaving towards a cosplayer they would be tossed…. fast. Still, it was a revealing costume. I was nervous.
Daddy eventually rolled out of bed and saw me looking at that costume, along with a Batgirl costume I had. I explained my concerns to him.
“Why not wear both?” he said. “Wear the Sonja costume, pack the Batgirl costume. If you get uncomfortable or feel weird, just go into the VIP Room and change.”
Which, of course, was the sensible thing to do. Still…
“Would you like me to stay with you while you’re going around in that cosplay?” Daddy asked.
I shook my head. “I can’t ask you to do that, Daddy.”
He came over and wrapped his arms around me from behind. I could feel myself nestle back into him. It’s not like I was seriously stressed about the costume choice; it was just I could feel my brain settling back down. If he held me long enough like this I’d probably settle into a little space. But right now, it was just to get me to be calmer.
“Ok, so here’s the plan for the day. Give the Sonja costume a try. I’m going to be with you until about 1 or so and you can figure out if you’re comfortable or not. If not, you’ll change. It’s no big deal to spend the morning with my little girl.”
“Ok,” I said, my voice feeling smaller.
“Then, we’re going to leave the con a little early this evening, and we’re going to get some supper and then maybe go do something not con-related.”
I turned around in his arms, and put my arms around his neck.
“Does the ‘not con related’ involve fucking me silly tonight?” I asked.
“It could,” he said, beginning to kiss my neck.
I had about five seconds left to put a stop to this or we were going to be very late because I was going to be demanding he fuck my brains out. Somewhere I found the reserves to gently push him away. He looked slightly surprised but didn’t push it.
“Great, now I’m going to be soaking wet while wearing a chain mail bikini,” I groused, starting to put their outfit together.
He laughed and went to shower.
“It’s a hard life for a barbarian queen,” he said.
***
Cosplayers are a tremendously supportive community. We’ve got each other’s back, whether it’s having emergency tape or thread in a bag, or coming to someone’s defence if it looks like they’re in trouble.
I learned that morning they can also form a gang of terrifying scantily clad women that no one wants to mess with.
Daddy walked with me to the con as I was in my leather boots, a chainmail bikini and armor, cloak, realistic-looking plastic sword, and assorted jewelry. To make myself look a little scarier at five feet tall, I was liberal with the blood make-up and messed up my hair.
“You look terrifying,” Daddy said, and he wasn’t teasing me.
“Good,” I said, sounding braver than I felt.
But I wasn’t in the con long before other cosplayers wearing…. limited amounts of clothing found me. Another couple of Sonjas. One brave woman was going as Vampirella. There was a Lady Death. A couple of Slave Leias, but with lightsabers, and we soon formed a scary crew.
“Strength in numbers,” one of the Leias said. Part of her costume involved dragging around the severed head of Jabba the Hutt, just in case someone was missing the point about not messing with her.
After an hour or so, I shooed Daddy away and told him to go and do his con things as I would be fine. The Leia with Jabba’s head, whose real name was Susan, came over and started chatting in one of the open areas for cosplayers.
“Finally got rid of your father, did you?” she asked.