Part 2

The surviving women shuffle through the goblin camp like vacant eyed livestock, their once vibrant eyes now dull and milky as their stolen gelatinous selves pulse in nearby vats. One formerly fierce butch warrior now stands motionless, her massive muscles twitching aimatically as she waits for orders, her mind reduced to base instincts.

A goblin brute approaches her, his dripping cock slapping against his thigh with every step. He grabs her chin, forcing her vacant gaze upward. "You remember how to be a good bitch, right?" he grunts, sliding a finger into her still gaping asshole. Her body responds with mindless, mechanical pleasure, but no neural spark remains just the hollow shell of a person.

Nearby, another former lesbian stares at her rainbow jelly blob through a glass jar, her fingers twitching as if reaching for a memory that no longer exists. The jelly pulses with her stolen laughter, a cruel echo of her former self.

"I think I'll keep this one's ass for my special jelly," the goblin says, dragging the blank faced woman toward his nest. Her heavy breasts swing limply as she walks, completely hollowed out of everything that made her human.

The goblins don't even bother with clothing anymore; they just parade their trophies around the camp, their massive members perpetually wet with the remnants of their victims' stolen souls. The air is thick with the smell of copper, musk, and the cloyingly sweet scent of the personality jellies fermenting in the heat.