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. 

And so Toutatis returned. 

He joined the entity, leaving the Irishman a vegetable to command the tentacles contained under Lara’s room. He might have leaped into her head, and yet he sensed she needed more. The vibrant green, yellow, and pink protrusions moved up from the cracks in the foundation, slithering towards the brunette still chained to her bed. 

Lara saw him, her eyes open wide in expectation. 

And Toutatis saw what Lugh could not, feeling the rush of unspoken anticipation seeping from between her legs, causing her cotton panties to cling to her sex. 

He controlled a dozen different tentacles, feeling them pulse and twitch as though he were back in the Irishman, sporting a dozen different hardons. He moved closer, softly caressing and stroking her legs, sliding up and around her shoulders. 

He let the flower bloom on one of the phallus, letting six small stings of stamen tease her belly button. Toutatis could sense her responding, moving up one of the rotund headed tentacles to touch gently on her clit, moving gently to stimulate her dripping sex. 

She let out a gasp. 

And he dove into her mind. He pushed out a million different thoughts and images, all combining into the one message of comfort. 

It will be okay.

“Are you… are you going to fuck me?” Lara said hoarsely. 

Only if you want…

Toutatis projected his intention, pure and unadulterated by ineffectual words. 

Lara understood, her mind slowly starting to relax as Toutatis remained on the edge, not commanding or controlling her, but making adjustments to different neural pathways, undoing the damage with an understanding unique to his kind. 

“Will it hurt… like before?”

Never again.

She moved back against him, not content to let him rest against her cunt. 

“Just, just make it feel good,” Lara said. “I want to enjoy it again.”

Toutatis continued his mental embrace, adding delicate touches onto her body. The flower-shaped tentacle drifted down towards her panties, reaching inside to push the fabric aside. It’s multiple stamens brushed against her clitoris in six different and distinct vibrating touches. He mimicked a vibrator, producing a sensation that mixed together his knowledge of every mind he had encountered on Earth.

“Oh…”

He alternated, the tiny tendrils of the flower whisking around her, reacting to her whims before they even occurred to her. Toutatis knew that she was ready, massaging her battered mind as he inched one of his phalluses to the opening of her lips. 

Lara was so wet…

But he made certain she was ready. 

He pushed in slowly, gently introducing the penetration little by little as he parted her sex, every effort put into controlling his desire to immediately thrust every bit of his new cock inside of her delicate flower. 

The girl was so inviting, and though Toutatis had taken a thousand girls in as many different forms, their connection proved unique. In her mind and body at once, he was close enough to almost become her.

She bucked, her hands rattling against the forgotten chains, trying to take more of him inside of her. The other appendages of his newly claimed body worked their way around her, touching her thighs, her breasts, the nape of her neck, the little tender space below her ear…

That special spot that her boyfriend used to kiss, not that long ago…

Only every touch was so unlike a man, so foreign and alien to anything she had ever experienced that like the other women, she was able to momentarily forget all that had happened to her, absorbed in the touch of the tentacles encapsulating her body. 

He undid the manacles, and her hands flopped down to her side, one even reaching down to tenderly touch the flower, hand clasped around it, holding him against her body. 

He pushed in and out of her, slow, deliberate, letting the kisses from each strand of the flower compel the climax from her cautious pussy. Toutatis then moved inside of her, filling her canal with his alien cock, letting her squeeze out the pleasure as he kept himself perfectly still. 

She shook, her lips closing and opening around him as the orgasm overtook her. Lara arched her back up and then fell back down, her ecstasy slightly muted by the return of a mental block. 

Toutatis returned his attention fully to her head, losing control of himself in the process. And with her cunt clamping down on his tentacle cock, his semen came rushing out, pouring into the girl, searing and burning as he filled.  He had lost control, but only briefly.

He pumped into her a little harder for a few more strokes, sensing the building need. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming!”

She screamed it, this time her body thrashing and quaking with the full force of her climax, uncontrolled and uncouched. Her eyelashes fluttered, her mouth open in a full-throated cry as the waves of pleasure poured over every neglected sense. 

And when it was over, Toutatis held her in his arms, listening as Lara truly talked for the first times in months. 

*****

The john sat outside in his car, befuddled as he watched the Irishman walk out of the warehouse holding a girl’s hand. 

What the fuck, it's not that type of place-

It was his last thought before another command cleaved through his mind.