Convention day

I wake up with so much anxiety my stomach is in knots. Today's the day of the comic con, and the thought of my mother performing for a room full of strangers, all because of my stepfather's twisted bet, is almost too much to handle. I **** myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my body in an attempt to wash away the dread that clings to me.

When I emerge, the house is buzzing with excitement. My mother is already dressed in her Chun-Li costume, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nerves. "How do I look?" she asks, spinning around to show off the final touches she's added: the spiked bracelets, the thigh-high stockings, and the iconic hairstyle.

"Ama... incredible," I **** out, the lie sticking in my throat. She looks beautiful, but the thought of her being objectified by the same perverts who had leered at me was unbearable.

We head to the convention center, the costume feeling even more constricting and humiliating with every step. My stepfather had insisted on coming with us, his eyes never leaving my mother's body as she walked. His hand was a constant presence on her ass, squeezing and groping, a silent reminder of the control he had over both of us.

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