I held a perpetual blush as I moved through the crowds of the convention hall. It was my first time dressing up at a convention I normally went to as Jules.
Today, I was Julie. My hair and beard were done in a stylized manner befitting a cut anime girl, and I wore a corset that flowed into conservative skirt that held just above my knees. My flats clacked as I walked through the hall, thankful that my feat at least would not suffer throughout the week.
A leather gloved hand sat possessively on my ass as I marched down the hall. I glanced up and to my right to admire and study Mistress Morgan’s expression.
She was my height normally, but she wore high heels as she paraded me in front of the nerds of the convention. Her strong jaw, long brown hair, and knowing eyes studied the people around us. She looked the stereotypical dominatrix. Her gait stated ownership of herself, her partner, and hell, this entire building. Both men and women stared at her admiringly as we moved. I wondered what fantasies we were stirring in everyone.