Author's Note: This is a very long story (per the word count it's a novella) and is going to be published in six chapters simply to make things easier on the site administrator who has to read the whole dang thing. Please understand there are a LOT of things that need to be set up, so don't expect sex until the end of this first part. However if you don't read the early portions you may end up pretty confused about what's going on later.
Fair warning: There will be some gender-bending going on here, but the main theme of this piece is dominance/submission and the protagonist is not the dominant partner.
Disclaimer: The following is a piece of fiction. Fiction (in case you don't know) means it's made up, not real, a bunch of lies. The characters in the story are all fictional too, meaning they don't exist. While non-existent, if they existed and had an age they would be over 18.
Furthermore, since the characters aren't real they can't possibly be harmed by the stuff they do or that happens to them in the story. This would not be true in reality, meaning you should not think you can do the same things safely, legally, or ethically in real life. Just because bullets bounce off Superman (he's fictional) that doesn't mean they're going to bounce off you, got it? If you believe that the things fictional characters do in a pornographic story are a valid guide to behavior in the real world, then you have much bigger psychological problems than a story could ever cause and you should stop reading this and seek medical help immediately.
PART I: INTO THE GOBLIN LAIR
"All right, I need five volunteers," Macob announced.
Instinctively Karul hunched and tried to shuffle further back into the ranks, but it didn't work.
"You, you, you, you, and you," the sergeant said, pointing to Karul with his fourth 'you'.
Juto (who'd long ago established himself as the least sharp spear in their company and was the last man Macob indicated) shook his head, making his kettle helmet wobble. "But I didn't volunteer, sergeant."
Macob grinned. "Of course you did, son. Just like you volunteered for our noble ruler's campaign to wipe out the goblin scourge menacing our lands and our womenfolk."
"Oh, that kind of volunteered," Juto mumbled, lowering his gaze to the tunnel floor. Juto was dull, but that didn't mean he was a complete fool.
Karul closed his eyes and wished fervently this would turn out to be a bad dream. He'd lost count of how many times he'd wished that since this started, but he supposed it was always worth another try.
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None of the men in Karul's company wanted to be soldiers. Earlier in the year a muster party from the Duke's army swept through the countryside, scooping up any young man who was healthy and didn't hide fast enough. Every recruit got told he was "volunteering to join their noble ruler's campaign to wipe out the goblin," etc. It was a set speech, Karul heard it each time a new man was added to their group. When a poor orphan lad who'd just been picked objected that he owned no land and didn't have any women to defend it earned him a good thrashing and a position at the front of the column so the recruiters could keep an eye on him.
Soon after that the recruiters executed a young fool whose only crime was that he was so homesick he tried sneaking away one night. When he was caught they tied a rope around his neck as a lead and his hands in back of him so that he couldn't protect himself if he was jerked off his feet. He had a bruised and bloodied face by the time they arrived at the next village, then the same rope was used to hang him from a tree in the village square. Both the recruits and the villagers were forced to watch while the king's men announced to all that death was the fate of deserters from the army. Karul didn't need anything more examples to convince him that his only choice was to obey meekly and keep his mouth shut.
Eventually the company was ten dozen strong, which was either the quota the recruiters needed to meet or the most men they felt they could keep under control without risking mutiny and wholescale flight by their catch. At this point the raw recruits were herded to the military encampment where the Duke's forces were gathering. Each man was issued a spear, a poorly-cured leather jack, and an ill-fitting steel cap of one sort or another. Next they got several weeks of instruction in proper marching, how to respond to simple battlefield orders like "Advance!" and "Charge!", and lessons in thrusting a spear while in formation without accidentally stabbing the man in front or slamming the butt-end into the man behind you.
In some ways life in camp wasn't that bad. Karul got fed regularly, and hard physical work was hardly foreign to a farmboy. It was true you could get flogged if you said or did the wrong thing, but Karul avoided such a fate by never saying anything except in response to a direct question and jumping to obey whatever command this superiors issued.
He was less confident when he thought about what would happen when it came to actual battle. The whole idea of facing an enemy turned Karul's legs to jelly. It was one thing for Karul to jab a spear into a motionless strawman target, but he didn't have a good feeling about what would happen if the target was trying to stab him back.
In late summer the whole army marched out of camp. They tramped through the western regions of the duchy to the edge of the great forest. There they paused for a day before resuming their march, now in order of battle.
There was no opposition at all and the morale of the recruits improved. At least, it did until they reached the foothills of the forest mountains and the entrances of the caverns in which the goblins lived. The army split into detachments to cover each of the known entrances, and assignments were made for which units would go inside (most of the army, including all of the new companies) and the smaller number (all the noblemen and their personal retinues) which were to remain on the surface to guard against any escape by the goblins. And, not incidentally, to catch any human soldiers trying to desert or flee battle.
Tales spread quickly among the troops about the labyrinthine lairs of the goblins that snaked through the mountains and the horrible things that lived in the depths. But the duke was adamant that the army would go in and root out the goblins, putting a permanent end to their raids on his lands, and of course the decrease in his revenues this caused.
"Now remember, we have to kill every last one of the bastards," Macob said as they were about to enter the entrance to the tunnels. "If even one goblin is left alive it won't be long until the duchy is up to the armpits in the damned little creatures again."
"That doesn't make any sense," the man next to Karul muttered. "You don't start a flock with just one sheep, you need at least a ram and one ewe."
One of the prerequisites of becoming a sergeant seemed to be very sharp hearing, as Macob instantly rounded on the commenter. "It's not up to you to be deciding what makes sense, my lad. Are you questioning a superior's orders?"
The man visibly paled, having seen what happened to common soldiers accused of disobeying orders. "Oh, no, sergeant, not a bit. Just letting my mouth run ahead of my thoughts, is all."
