Revenge Upon the World Pt. 02

"Don't forget Steven wanted you in work early tomorrow. Just in case he forgot to remind you."

Immediately, Lyra shot up in bed, glancing over at the digital clock on her bedside cabinet. Half past six in the morning, a full hour and a half before her shift was scheduled to begin. She'd need to hurry if she wanted to arrive early. "Ugh..." she groaned as she groggily clambered out of bed, her socked feet making contact with the carpeted floor of the bedroom. Still having not fully woken up, it took her a second to realise that she was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. No matter, she thought. It was only work, not like she was trying to impress anyone.

Still though, she wasn't willing to leave her flat without putting some degree of effort in. She made her way out of her room and towards the bathroom, assuming that her dad wouldn't be awake yet to interrupt her. Lyra's regular morning routine involved the typical morning cleanse, followed by makeup and hair styling, which she almost always had in a similar fashion to the day prior: slightly curled and falling over one shoulder. Maintaining that beauty she was so proud of didn't come without effort.

That was when she realised. Lyra looked up and stared into her own reflection, totally prepared for the day ahead when she suddenly thought: why? She didn't need to go into work early. What happened yesterday was real. With a single raise of her hand, she had brought those men to her feet, but here she was complying to the demands of her asshole boss?

No, she wasn't gonna roll over and do whatever he wanted just because he was her boss. If he was a fair and respectful superior, maybe her mindset would've been different, but Stephen was far from it. He was a greedy, intolerable man who showed Lyra little to no respect. Perhaps it was the years of pent up frustration of being trampled on by others, but she hated him. In fact, she decided she was even going to show up late today, the exact opposite of what Stephen wanted.

With a small smirk playing on her face, she left the bathroom and made her way over to the living room, knowing full well she had quite a bit of time to kill. To be honest, she wasn't used to it. Normally she was rushing out to work at the crack of dawn or immediately heading out on shopping trips or errands on those few days off she managed to obtain.

Her dad did little to nothing to help out of course. From his point of view, just being there was enough. Speaking of which, he was still fast asleep, just as Lyra had expected. His bedroom door was practically sealed shut, but his snoring still rumbled like thunder through the small flat. A few days ago, she would've let him sleep and simply left for work as she was originally meant to, but she wasn't about to sit here for an hour listen to that.

Without putting any consideration into what noise she was making, she swung open the door to her father's room and made her entrance. There he was, sprawled out like a useless sack of meat and bones. "Dad." she said calmly, her hands resting on her hips. The wait for a response felt like an eternity, but she never got one. Lyra sighed, tilting her hips to the side impatiently. "Dad!" she yelled.

"Hugh! Y-yeah?" he asked in a panic as he jolted awake, his arms and legs flailing in his waking moments before he regained control.

"Get up." Lyra demanded, staring into her father's eyes, "Get up and do something productive while I'm at work."

The look on his face could only be described as confusion and disbelief. Lyra, the girl who had always been mocked and used by others, was trying to tell him what to do? "Ha... You think you can give me orders?"

"Yes."

Her father laughed, sitting up on the edge of his bed, "I'm glad you're trying to practice standing up for yourself, but you haven't gotta look so serious." Lyra's confidence was shaken by his words. He thought she was just practicing standing up for herself? Did this mean she couldn't control him? Then how could she... "Shouldn't you be heading to work right now?"

Lyra shook her head defiantly, "I'm not practicing. I want you to do what I said."

The smile faded from her father's face, the two now sharing a cold-gazed staring contest. "No." he answered bluntly, "If you want me to do something productive, you're gonna need to try harder than that." Satisfied that the conversation was now over, he got up and began slowly moving towards the room's exit. Defeated, Lyra moved aside to let him past.

"Fine, I'll go to work." she murmured. Her confidence had taken a serious blow after that.

He responded with a simple 'alrighty' before vanishing into the bathroom, presumably not to exit for the next ten minutes. Meanwhile, Lyra was trying to figure out why she couldn't make him do what she asked. Perhaps it was because he was her father, rendering her appearance all but useless? Perhaps she held no power over others at all and those thugs in the street were simply really into submission? Either way, Lyra felt herself quickly degrading into the unconfident, weak girl she had been just a day prior. The fact that she was folding to Steven's demand for her to come to work early was a sign of that.

It was another grey day outside, not a ray of sunshine to be found. The regular hustle and bustle of the city was in full swing, even near the outskirts where Lyra lived. If she hurried, she could probably make it to work on time. It wouldn't be early like Steven had wanted, but at least she wasn't late like she originally wanted to be. God, she was going to get an earful from him for storming out last night, and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

The sounds of cars driving by and passer-by's idly chatting amongst themselves were all she could hear over her own thoughts, until another sound interrupted the cacophony of the city. An all to familiar sound; the sound of the voice that had been following her the day prior.

"Look..." it beckoned from behind her. Startled, Lyra spun around the face the source of the voice. Of course there was nothing there, just like last time. If it turned out that she couldn't control people, then what was this voice? Perhaps she was simply going insane, hearing voices in her head as a method of coping?

No matter what it was, Lyra unintentionally did what the voice had requested her to do and looked in the direction it had came from. At first she didn't see anything, but then she saw that across the street was the same alleyway she had been in last night, snugged between two smaller buildings which each held shops. Surprisingly, neither shop had opened yet, meaning the alley was bound to be desolate.

Her heart thumped, the sensation of butterflies welling up within her. For some reason, she felt compelled to go back. Nobody would be there, she was almost certain of it. They were just creeps desperate to take out their submissive fantasies on strangers, that was all. Once again she had been used for someone else's gain. As if Lyra actually had any control over them at all.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself after she failed to make her dad follow even the simplest of orders. So why... Why did she feel so strongly compelled to go back down the alley?

Just for a moment, she turned away and looked down the street. If she did this, she would be late for work and most likely gain absolutely nothing from it. On the other hand, she could ignore the feeling of compulsion and head straight to work. To be honest, she didn't know what to do.

"Go..."

Slightly startled once again, she turned back to face the alley. That voice beckoned her, and if only for a split second she could have sworn she saw a figure cloaked in shadow standing besides one of the buildings. On top of that, the feeling of compulsion only grew greater. With that, she had pretty much made up her mind. Even if it was just a voice in her head, she couldn't just ignore it.

Lyra made her way across the street and entered the alleyway, gasping as she saw what was waiting for her behind one of the buildings. There were the three men, still kneeling on the cold, hard floor. They each looked like they hadn't slept at all, but had instead remained kneeling all throughout the night. To be frank, she didn't know what to make of this. She was conflicted. Could she control people or could she not?

"You're all still here?" she asked, keeping her distance. She still remembered what they had tried to do to her, and she wasn't fully confident that she was actually in control of them.

"We are." the man who knelt in the middle of the three answered. Their eyes were on her now, "You never dismissed us, mistress."

Mistress. That word made her heart skip beat. The word meant a woman with power, a girl with the ability to control and manipulate. It was reserved for those who were superior, for those who had other people at their beck and call. Here they were, granting that title to her despite her barely lifting a finger. "I never dismissed you?" she asked, curious.

"That's right." he answered matter-of-factly, "Just like you asked, our only thoughts are of you now, mistress."

Her heart skipped a beat once more. Any more and her heart would have stopped completely. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. They weren't just submissive weirdos, she actually was in full control of them. Already she could feel the confidence she had just lost returning to her, a small smirk playing on her lips. So what if she couldn't control her dad? Here she had three muscular and well-built men who had all but surrendered their minds to her.

"Is that so?" Lyra replied in a curious tone, slowly strutting forward towards the kneeling trio. Soon she was stood over them, gazing down at their kneeling shapes like a conqueror. Already she could feel a faint tingle of excitement inside her, seeing these men kneeling before her as they were. She was eager to see the extent of her control.

"You two," she commanded, pointing at the two men to her left and right, "Kiss my shoes."

Less than a second later, they immediately obeyed. The two slaves leaned forward and began showering the tops of Lyra's sneakers with kisses. Her smirk grew wider as she watched them go to work, already feeling herself becoming wet from the power fantasy alone. She took delight in the faint sensation of their lips on her shoes, barely being felt by her foot beneath it.

Taking in a deep breath, Lyra wanted to push the limits further. "Take off my shoe." she ordered, watching on expectantly as she raised one foot. Her servant immediately stopped his shower of kisses and gently placed his hands on the sides of her shoe, carefully removing it. Lyra watched as her socked foot elegantly slid free from the confines of her sneaker, which then fell to the ground as her foot slowly lowered into the brainwashed man's waiting hands. She sighed with satisfaction as she felt his fingers wrap around the soft cotton of her sock, saving her from the dirt of the alleyway floor.

"Your perfect feet shouldn't have to touch such filth, mistress." he explained, as he began pecking at her foot without even having to be told. She couldn't help but let out a giggle at this. It was like they knew exactly what she wanted.

Now she could feel his lips pressing against her foot even clearer than before. That combined with the gentle massage of his hands created a feeling unlike any other, even better than she had imagined the night before. The knowledge that she was the one making them do this turned her on massively; her panties were evidently damp due to the fact.

Her hand found its way to her thigh, gently caressing the soft grey nylon. Back and forth she gradually slid her hand along the top of her thigh, her foot still resting in the hands of her slave. She let out an exhale of satisfaction as one of his hands moved up to her ankle, briefly touching the exposed skin between her sock and leggings. The brief moment of physical contact sent a cold shiver of excitement through her body.

By now all doubts about the control she held were gone. They were well and truly at her command; they were her total slaves. Lyra's eye closed as she tilted her head up to face the sky. "They're mine." she said to herself, a dull ache building between her legs, "I'm in control. I own them."

Soon her hand had begun sliding down the side of her thighs, making its way between her legs. Every single movement of her hand made the aching grow, a yearning for the release that she knew she deserved. She had never craved it is badly as she did right now.

Unable to resist the temptation, she slid her hand up along her waist and stopped at the exposed flesh of her midriff. Butterflies erupted through her as her fingers lightly traced the smooth skin around her belly button, causing her to let out a sharp exhale of pleasure. She was about to slide her hand beneath her leggings, but then the thought hit her.

She could make her fantasy a reality. Just the thought of using another human being as a seat was enough to get her off, but she couldn't imagine what it would do to her if she were to actually experience it. Her eyes widened. Nothing was stopping her.

Lyra clicked her fingers, "Get round here and get on all fours." she ordered, finally giving the third man who had been idle this entire time something to do. He was more than eager to finally serve his mistress.

Like an obedient little puppy, he obeyed and circled round behind her, quickly dropping down to the dirty ground of the alley on all fours. Small pebbles dug into his hands, but he didn't mind. His entire purpose was to be his queen's throne, and he would more than happily fulfil it.

"Good boy." she said as she lowered down, placing her firm, round ass upon him. Her added weight caused the pebbles to dig deeper into his palms, but to have such a perfect ass use him as a throne was a blessing none could ever be worthy of. Occasionally Lyra shuffled around as she got into a comfortable position upon her new throne, rubbing her nylon-covered ass against him. It drove him crazy, further cementing the position as a piece of Lyra's furniture in his mind. He was no longer a human being, he was an object for Lyra's pleasure, every movement she made drilling this fact further into his head until it was all he knew.

Finally she got comfortable, placing all her weight on her new chair. Her deepest fantasy had become reality, and she just couldn't hold back anymore. The aching of desire between her legs was too intense now; a build up of pleasure fit for only a queen.

Unable to resist any longer, she giggled as she slid her hand into her leggings, her skin tingling at her touch. Her hand slid past her damp panties, gliding over her moist opening. Even the slightest touch felt like electricity, thousands of volts charging her body.

"Mmmm..." she moaned instinctively, one of her slaves acting on her subconscious desires. He gently removed her other shoe from her foot, watching with worshipping eyes as her socked foot slid free from its confines. A sensation of unworthiness washed over him, like he wasn't deserving of witnessing his queen's foot even whilst covered by a sock. It now hung in the air freely, her toes curling with delight as her hand glided slowly over her folds, back and forth.

Here Lyra sat atop another human being, her feet being massaged and worshipped by two men who had previously tried to assault her. They knew their place now; they were nothing before her. She knew her place now too. She was their mistress. Their owner. Their queen.

Their goddess.

Any and all doubt had been erased from her mind. It was a certainty that she could control people, bending them to her will as if they were toys made just for her. How she could do it didn't matter, at least not right now. All that mattered to her was the power. Finally, after so long of being used, stepped on by others for their own gain, at last the world was giving her what she was owed. The world was granting her worship, just like she deserved.

"Embrace it."

The voice called out from all around her, like a set of speakers surrounded her. Suddenly, her other self appeared before her. The darker, sinister version of her she had seen in her visions. Once again she was complete with black lipstick and dark, flowing hair. Her black leggings and cropped hoodie looked even better than her own grey ones, whilst her piercing white eyes almost demanded submission. The apparition had nothing more to say, however her grin said a thousand words.

"Yes..." Lyra whispered to herself, placing her other hand on her slave's back to support herself. The figure had vanished now, leaving Lyra alone with her trio of slaves and her own pleasure. "Yes!"

She screamed as she slid her index finger into her soaking wet cunt, the dam within her breaking. All that built up excitement and pleasure released at once, mixing within her into an indescribable sensation. Her only thoughts were of the absolute control she held over these men, the things she had made them do with her words alone.

Her finger danced alone her clit, completely soaking her panties with juice. By now some evidence of moisture was evident on her leggings. Not enough to notice, but it was a symptom of how aroused this situation had made her. She let out another moan of delight; this surpassed any of her fantasies.

"Worship..." she ordered, her breathing heavy. The two men tending to her feet did just that, wrapping their lips around her socked toes. Moisture from their mouths seeped through the cotton to her feet themselves, providing a unique warmth. "Mmhm..." she moaned in response, satisfied. Her movements sped up, feeling a climax drawing near. It couldn't get any better than this. She was a goddess.

That was what she though at least, but then it did.

"You're a goddess, my queen." a voice said from below her. The man serving as Lyra's temporary throne offered words of praise, heightening both her pleasure and her confidence. In response to his vocal worship, she let out a sharp gasp. "You deserve more worship than we could ever offer you."

"Yes! Yes, I do!" Lyra screamed, her back arching.

"You deserve a thousand slaves lining up to kiss your perfect feet."

"God, yes!" She could feel it. Her orgasm was nearing.

"You deserve to rule like the queen that you are."

"Fuck! Fuck, yes! I'm a fucking goddess!" Lyra moaned as she rode the waves of ecstasy. Her entire body shook in a euphoric spasm as her juices flowed from her pussy, her head tilted upwards as she gasped for air. Never had Lyra experienced such a ground-breaking orgasm just from fingering.

Still shaking from the otherworldly orgasm she had just experienced, Lyra took in mouthful after mouthful of oxygen, her slaves sucking on her socked toes all the while. Gazing down at them, she couldn't deny that she was completely infatuated with the feeling of power she got when she controlled them, and she wanted more. Whilst she wasn't sure how, she was already certain that she would get more. Lyra wouldn't be satisfied until she got more people down at her feet just like them, sucking on her toes in an act of worship. It was what she was owed after all.

If Lyra had it her way, she would bring the entire world under her thrall at this exact moment. God, the thought of having anyone she wanted wrapped around her finger. She could make them do anything she wanted. Perhaps she'd make them kneel and suck her perfectly manicured toes whilst another of her slaves slid their tongue into her pussy? Or perhaps she'd trample her slave with her perfect feet, making them beg for a mercy they'd never receive? Death under the feet of a goddess was surely an honour none would be worthy to receive.

Just thinking about it drove her crazy. From a pushover girl to the queen of an empire. She could get herself off again just thinking about it.