The goblin, her breasts and hips prominent beneath simple work tunic, immediately stopped what she was doing and trotted over. "Yes, Mother?" voice bright and eager.
"Did you and your sisters finish the bathroom and the plumbing system?" Lyssandra asked, gesturing vaguely at the newly built stone houses that were replacing the old log cabins.
"Yes, we did!" the goblin chirped, her face beaming. She quickly fumbled with her small leather satchel and pulled out a grubby notebook.
"We all finished it! Each house now changes from log houses to stone houses, which you said was better for… uh…" She flipped through the pages, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"… thermal mass, resists against rot, insects, less maintenance! Oh, and the bathroom you ordered us to build is included! The fixtures were a bathtub, a sink, and a toilet are all done!"
She looked up from her notes, proud of her report. "The blueprint you gave us was very complicated, especially the plumbing part, but with the dungeon's nature, there was no need for plumbing! It can directly transfer waste to the waste pit!"
The lengthy, detailed report confirmed Lyssandra's suspicion. 'So it was just negligence of individuals, it seemed.'
"Good work, my daughter," Lyssandra praised, her expression unreadable. "Now, you wait for that hobgoblin to round up his friends, and you will put them into the prison. Teach them a lesson for disobeying my order."
"Got it, Mother!" the goblin said cheerfully, giving a firm salute. "Oh! Do you want to hear about the prison, too? It's divided into two sides! One could contain multiple prisoners, and the other is for solitary confinement! And the doors are made of that special ironwood you found, and..."
Lyssandra cut her off with a wave of her hand. "It's fine. Keep doing what you're doing." She turned away, already dismissing the matter from her mind.
The issue of careless subjects was a tedious one, but necessary.
The dungeon was becoming more civilized, but Lyssandra knew that raw discipline alone wouldn't build a loyal or efficient community. She needed to understand her people, to get under their skins and learn what made them tick. She wanted to know their desires, fears, and motivations.
With this in mind, she headed for a newly established smithy.
The clang of hammer on metal guided her there. At one of the smaller forging stations, she found another diligent goblin girl, her small arms expertly guiding a hammer, brow furrowed in concentration.
"My child," Lyssandra called out, her voice gentle yet carrying a clear tone of authority.
The goblin girl stopped hammering, setting down the half-formed sword. She wiped her brow with the back of her leather-gauntleted hand and turned, face breaking into wide, happy smile when she saw who it was. "Hello, Mother!"
"I have a question for you," Lyssandra continued, gesturing toward the distant cave entrance where she could just make out the forms of the ogres working. "Those pigs… you have managed to make them work so obediently. How? I want to understand how did you do that."
The goblin girl puffed out her chest a little, proud to be consulted. "It was actually not that hard to do," she explained.
"I once walked by their cave and heard many fighting sounds inside and got curious. So I observed them."
She paused, looking thoughtful. "Their behavior was easy to predict if you have enough time to understand them. They have anger issues and will fight each other if there is nothing to do. It's like violent was always in their blood."
The goblin girl continued her explanation, radiating with pride. "So, I simply gave them work to do. It provided an outlet for their frustration, instead of wasting it on useless fighting. Miner jobs seemed to suit their destructive energy."
Lyssandra listened, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "But they are quite the chaotic and unpredictable creatures," she countered. "The mine shaft is not exactly a stable place for them, you know."
The goblin girl laughed, a high-pitched, cheerful sound echoed in the smithy. She slapped her knee, eyes twinkling with mirth. "Oh, I know that, Mother! I've seen that too!"
She leaned in conspiratorially. "The other day, one of that stupid pigs had more energy than he knew what to do with. Fought."
"Yeah, you heard that right. Fought inside the mining shaft! What did he expect? A champion title for 'Who's the Dumbest Swine in the Dungeon?'"
She giggled again. "Of course, the fool just swung his pickaxe and hit a few of the support beams! That part of the shaft collapsed. Luckily, no one died, just a few heavily injured. The mine got blocked for a whole day though." She shrugged, still grinning. "They're in the infirmary now, so you don't have to worry about them, Mother!"
She straightened up, patting her chest. "I learned from it! Now I always make sure there's a foreman with a very big club nearby!"
Lyssandra had to suppress a smile. The girl's pragmatism was as sharp as her little teeth. "I see. Well, thank you for the insightful view, my child. Keep up the good work."
She gave the girl a deep kiss and walked away, her mind already racing.
The ogres were a powerful force, but a volatile one. They needed a strong hand and constant purpose. They could be a great asset or a catastrophic liability. The key was in management, just as her clever daughter had figured out.
"It's time to make a clear rule for the civilians inside the dungeon. We can't go on lawless like this," Lyssandra muttered, walking towards her opulent mansion. A wave of fatigue washed over her, and she let out a deep, weary yawn.
She stretched her arms high above her head, her voluptuous body elongated, breasts straining against the black bodysuit.
'Master, you have been working for the whole day. It's time to take a rest,' Luna's voice chimed softly in her mind, a gentle reminder.
"Indeed, I need to take care of myself. Overwork can send you to an early grave," Lyssandra mused. "The disciplinary matter can wait for tomorrow."
She pushed open the heavy doors to her master bedroom. The room was spacious and luxurious, dominated by a huge bed. Some maids were just finishing their cleaning duties, their bodies looking deliciously alluring when they bent over.
"I need to sleep now," Lyssandra announced, her voice a purr. "You all can go. Or… you can stay the night with me."
The maids froze, straightening up so quickly they nearly stumbled. They flushed bright red, mixture of fear and arousal on those pretty faces. After a moment of shared, wide-eyed glances, they all curtsied and hurriedly filed out of the room, closing the door behind.
All except two.
The two maids remained, their shy nods barely perceptible in the vast room. They stepped forward tentatively, eyes cast down, yet unable to resist stealing glances at their magnificent mistress.
They had seen her at her most dominant, her most cruel, and her most beautiful. The memory of her, covered in white, thrusting into Evelyn's severed head - the psychopath, sent shiver of arousal through both of them.
"Yes, Mistress," they whispered in unison, voices trembling.
They approached Lyssandra, hands reaching out to help her. With practiced, trembling fingers, they undid the clasps of her suit, peeling the tight, black material away from her skin and she stood naked before them in all her glory.
Their eyes widened. Her body was perfection incarnated: towering height, enormous, round breasts, pregnant stomach, wide, curvy hips, and soft, thick penis nestled between her thighs.
'So big,' one maid thought, mouth slightly agape. The sheer size of it, even soft, was breathtaking.
'Will it split me in half?' the other maid wondered, gush of moisture dampening her thigh at the idea. It was a terrifying and exhilarating thought.
Lyssandra stood still, letting them look their fill. Knowing smile graced her lips while she read arousal and fear in their minds.
"You know," she murmured, her voice a low, sensual hum, "after a long day of ruling… there's nothing quite like coming home to a warm, willing mouth."
She placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of one maid, then the other.
"On the bed."