My morning begins the same way it has for the past six months. I wake in my chambers, beside either one of my goblin masters or my sister slaves. It is rare for me to wake up on my own. I look in my mirror just to see the spirals in my eyes, my favorite of the two most obvious signs of my ensorcelled mind.
I clean myself at a communal bathhouse with my sister slaves. We talk quite a bit while doing so, sharing our wet dreams about our masters and how we look forward to the day's events. We have breakfast afterwards and then assemble in the main hall to receive our tasks for the day. Most of the time, I clean when I'm not pleasuring the goblin staff or my slave sisters.
The first room I clean is Krizzen's office, and just walking into it makes me feel warm inside. Krizzen and Drell relieved me of my maidenhood in that room, right after Abigail showed me around my new home. They laid me down on Krizzen's desk and plowed my virgin fields. I begged them to cum on my brand, cement their ownership of me. The feeling of that warm fluid hitting the symbol of my servitude brought me pure ecstasy. Ever since then, I've taken special care in cleaning that room.
I also made a friend a month after I was captured. Her name's Chelsea and she's a few years older than me. We met in the bathhouse the night she was enslaved. More impressively, she used to be an aristocrat! She's the second child of the Duke of Ashvale and was taken from her castle during an evening walk.
"I'm still amazed that our masters were so bold!" she told me. "Father intended for me to marry the son of one of his associates and he spared no expense making sure any secret lover of mine couldn't make their way into the grounds. Yet, a trio of our beloved goblins were still able to not just scout the area, but ambush me! I shouldn't be too surprised, though. Our masters are so crafty."
Chelsea never looked down on me for my peasant origins, telling me that the goblins made us equal in enslaving us. How much power one slave sister had over another was something the goblins decided at their leisure. Furthermore, Chelsea delighted in carrying out orders that would have gone against her pride as a woman of noble birth. When ordered to eat me out, she did so with glee. During a visit by another goblin businessman, she came into his pot of fungus tea at the demand of the Slave Guild's CEO. The visitor commented that the taste of her arousal greatly improved the flavoring. She seems to jump for joy when ordered to help clean to office.
At one point, I raised the idea of Chelsea allowing our masters to take over her castle after arranging 'accidents' for anyone who posed a threat. She would secretly run her lands in accordance to what the goblins wished. She was delighted by the proposition but told me she'd asked this before.
"Believe me, I love the idea of being a puppet noblewoman. Sadly, it would've been too risky. Too many people to kill off, plus our masters would've needed to find some way of disguising the fact I was simply a tool for their agenda. They'd need to obscure the lovely spirals in my eyes as well as my brand. I have dreamed of such a thing though; getting rid of my family, helping our masters enslave the maids, secretly letting the goblins rule my ancestral lands. It has provided me many tantalizing dreams."
My conversations with Chelsea made me realize something about our masters that I didn't appreciate before. Goblins possess a natural authority over human women. It does not matter if she is an empress, a noblewoman, or a peasant. Any power she has is nothing when given an order by one of her small, green superiors. She is utterly under their command. Her own thoughts lose any value compared to the thoughts her goblin masters give her.
This hierarchy is just as nature intends. Just as it should be.