One by one, the husks of flesh had dropped lifelessly to the dirty floor of the warehouse.
Toutatis has cycled through them, gleaning the useful information in a moment before destroying the mind. He relished in the retribution, taking his name from the mind of the Irish professor he inhabited.
Toutatis had been a god, a protector of women...
Now the Irishman only functioned as a vessel, leaving only the brain stem intact as he spoke to the writhing mass buried in the basement of the brothel.
This place was senseless. The female minds are nearly shattered.
He had named the collection of consciousness Lugh, a Celtic god of salvation.
“They are capable of such cruelty. But we can heal them,” Toutatis spoke out loud, the creature hearing his thoughts rather than the words.
We could end them. We could end all the suffering caused by this self-destructive race.
He grimaced.
Toutatis had initially shared that idea when first discovering the brothel. The women had been tricked, drugged, beaten, even chained to mattresses in small rooms divided by cloths and plywood. With his heightened telepathic awareness, Toutatis had known every monstrously vile act forced on these women before entering.
He had killed all the men without thinking, cursing himself at having to dispose of the bodies in such an inefficient way. Had Toutatis really considered the problem, he could have commanded them to jump off a cliff… or at least caused them to collapse into a neat little pile that would have been easier to burn.
But he had been enraged.
Even Dagoth, with his brainwashed cult, had never been as sadistic as these humans.
“We have larger concerns,” Toutatis answered. “These humans are like little bees, barely able to sting us, but if they acted as a hive...”
They cannot.
“Even so, together they could cause us considerable damage,” Toutatis corrected. “Opening us up to an attack by Dagoth.”
Thousands of different voices screamed out of Lugh at the mention of the dreaded defiler.
You have earned our trust. What do you suggest?
“I do not doubt the eventual triumph of our race,” Toutatis said. “But let us use the human as our model. Man did not need to kill to rule. The bear, the tiger, the elephant, he left these alone and made allies. The dog, the pig, the cow, designing them slowly to particular tasks.
We do not possess bioengineers capable of this.
Toutatis almost laughed.
“We do not need to equal the others in everything,” He said. “We can use our resources to make allies of man and of our brothers. We will cleanse places like this, heal those who have been harmed, and barter with our brothers for the services we cannot create.”
Yes, very good. Thank you Toutatis.
*****
Lugh was not his only ally.
In the next few weeks, Toutatis used his abilities to systematically destroy those responsible for these brothels, setting up other smaller consciousnesses in their places.
Slowly, the healing had begun.
But she had been there the longest, chained and abused, her mind retreating into itself so that Lugh dared not do more than satisfy her basic needs at first. It kept her nourished, using its modest telepathic powers to soothe. Now and then, It would tickle her clit with the small strands of stamen that bloomed out from its flower-like tentacles.
It was the one time that Lugh saw any life from the girl. Her eyes had widened with expectation, her mind fluttering with joy as it brought her to a subdued orgasm, never even penetrating the girl. Its little stamens had caressed around her clit, patiently reclaiming the pleasure behind sex with these small, incremental steps forward.
So many of the other women had begun living again, freed from any restraints. Still in shock at first, they were grateful for the comfort and needing the support. Like every member of its species, Lugh found synthesizing nutrients and the chemicals routinely formulaic.
In their own time, the women were happy to satisfy every sexual need with the petal-like tentacles that seemed to grow out of the floor of every forgotten room. Each used it at first almost like a masturbatory device almost deliriously. Lugh could communicate enough to implant ideas, but it couldn’t control any of their actions.
And though a few left, most of the women willingly stayed with their guardian, who was always ready to please the former prostitutes who now contributed in making their prison into a home. The place had become unrecognizable, real beds, silk sheets, entertainment and furniture, whatever any of them wanted.
Except for this one.
After weeks, Lugh remained lost. The creature did not dare to even release her from the shackles, afraid that she might harm herself.
Nothing seemed to help.
It had been so much effort just to learn her name.
Lara...
She was young, but the girl had been here longer than the rest. Her brunette hair had been chopped down inexpertly short. Lara wore a fresh pair of panties and a green jacket that barely covered her large breasts, allowing the bottom curves to spill out. It needed to be washed, and yet Lara fought every time it or one of the other women tried to pry off this one last article of comfort.