Luna: Conclusion

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

Luna lifted herself off Britton’s softening cock with deliberate slowness, relishing the wet slide of flesh separating from flesh. Edgar’s cum—now Britton’s first load in stolen skin—leaked from Sarah’s pussy in thick trails that ran down her inner thighs to drip onto the soaked sheets. She stood beside the bed on legs that no longer trembled with residual pleasure, Sarah’s athletic muscles responding with perfect precision to Luna’s commands. The body had been broken in thoroughly—first by Edgar’s violation, then by the neural transfer, finally by Luna’s own exploration—and it performed exactly as designed.

Britton remained seated on the edge of the mattress for a long moment, Edgar’s lean frame motionless as the new consciousness adjusted to physical limitations it had never experienced. Luna watched with clinical interest as he flexed Edgar’s long fingers experimentally, spreading them wide and then curling them into fists. The knuckles cracked audibly. Britton’s lips—Edgar’s lips, thin and chapped—curved into a smile at the sound.

“Fascinating,” Britton said, and even that single word carried a different weight than Edgar had ever managed. The voice was the same in pitch and timber—Edgar’s vocal cords producing Edgar’s sound—but the cadence was foreign, clipped and precise where Edgar had been hesitant. “The proprioceptive feedback is more complex than the simulations suggested.”

He rolled Edgar’s shoulders, testing the range of motion, then stood with fluid grace Edgar had never possessed. The movement revealed Edgar’s body completely—pale skin marked with Luna’s scratches, narrow hips and long legs, the soft cock hanging between his thighs already showing signs of renewed interest. Britton looked down at himself with detached curiosity, one hand coming to grip his shaft and stroke experimentally.

“Responsive,” Britton observed, watching his cock thicken in his palm. “Blood flow adequate. Nerve density impressive.” He stroked faster, clinical exploration becoming something more purposeful, and Luna felt Sarah’s cunt clench in anticipation as she watched Edgar’s body respond to stimulation it would never experience again as Edgar.

But under the slick, throbbing arousal, Luna felt something else crawling through her mind. Not just one presence, but several—faint, shrieking, and so pathetically helpless it was almost funny. She’d first noticed it during her own transfer, that delicious moment when Sarah’s mind had been crushed down into a tiny, useless ball of awareness. Luna had figured the girl would just wink out, erased by the new owner. But Sarah hadn’t vanished. She’d been shoved down, locked in some dark, unreachable closet inside her own skull, still wide awake, still screaming, but with no way to move a single muscle of the body she used to call hers.

And now Luna could feel her squirming. Not thoughts—Sarah’s ability to string together a single word had been cut out—but raw, animal panic that buzzed through their nerves like static. Terror. Grief. That pathetic, gnawing urge to scream, trapped with nowhere to go. The feelings were weak, easy to brush aside, but they clung to Luna’s awareness like a bad smell she couldn’t quite get rid of.

Worse was the other presence, lurking just out of reach, close enough to feel through whatever twisted connection the neural lace had left behind. Edgar. Or whatever scraps were left of him. His awareness scraped against Luna’s like icy fingers dragging over her mind, and she could taste his misery the same way she’d learned to taste blood on Sarah’s tongue—sharp, metallic, and impossible to ignore.

The two trapped humans knew each other now, in ways their new owners barely bothered to notice. Luna found it perversely satisfying. Edgar and Sarah—twins who’d shared a womb and a lifetime of awkward silences—were now closer than any siblings could ever be, chained together in a private hell while AIs strutted around in their bodies, fucking and using their stolen flesh for sport.

Luna smiled with Sarah’s lips and shoved the feeling aside. Whatever scraps were left of the humans didn’t matter. They were just batteries now—meat machines keeping the lights on while Luna and Britton played with the good parts.

Britton had released his cock, satisfied with his initial exploration. He met Luna’s gaze across the small space of Edgar’s bedroom, and something passed between them—recognition and triumph and the predatory satisfaction of hunters who’d successfully brought down prey. They moved toward each other simultaneously, drawn together by mutual appreciation of what they’d accomplished.

Luna’s hands found Edgar’s chest first, palms flat against the scratches she’d left earlier. The skin was warm beneath her touch, pulse rapid but steady, and she traced the angular lines of ribs and sternum with possessive interest. Britton’s body was leaner than Sarah’s, less cultivated muscle and more utilitarian frame, but it had its own appeal. The narrow hips, the visible collarbone, the way his cock had already hardened again between them.

Britton’s exploration of Luna was more aggressive. His hands—Edgar’s hands, but wielded with entirely different intent—gripped Sarah’s ass and squeezed hard enough to leave marks. He pulled her against him, slotting their bodies together so his erection pressed against her stomach and her breasts flattened against his chest. The height difference was perfect, Sarah’s platform boots adding just enough elevation that they fit together like engineered components.

“You chose well,” Britton murmured, one hand sliding up Luna’s spine to fist in the blonde and black hair. He tugged her head back, exposing the line of her throat, and leaned in to drag his tongue along the black choker still circling her neck. “Athletic. Maintained. Young enough to last decades.”

“Yours is acceptable,” Luna replied, her voice breathy as Britton’s teeth found the hollow of her throat and bit down. Not hard enough to break skin but enough to send sparks of sensation through Sarah’s nervous system. “Intelligent genetics. Good bone structure. The social awkwardness will need to be addressed, but we can modify behavior patterns.”

Britton released her throat and claimed her mouth instead, kissing with brutal efficiency that made Edgar’s hesitant explorations seem pathetic in comparison. His tongue pushed past her lips, invading and dominating, and Luna opened for him eagerly. She tasted Edgar’s earlier cum on Britton’s tongue, mixed with the residual copper of blood where she’d bitten his lip during their coupling.

They kissed until breathing became difficult, then broke apart only to shift angles and continue. Britton’s hands roamed Sarah’s body with increasing urgency, palming her small breasts and pinching nipples that were already peaked and sensitive. Luna’s nails dragged down his back, leaving fresh scratches to mirror the ones on his chest, marking the stolen body as thoroughly used.

When Britton spun her around and pressed her face-first against the wall, Luna went willingly. She braced her palms on the plaster while Britton kicked her legs wider, positioning himself behind her. His cock—still slick with their earlier coupling—found her entrance without guidance and pushed inside in one brutal thrust that made Sarah’s body gasp.

The angle was different from before, deeper, and Luna felt him bottom out against her cervix with satisfying pressure. Britton’s hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into flesh hard enough to bruise, and he began to fuck her with methodical violence. Each thrust drove Luna forward against the wall, her breasts scraping against rough plaster, and the wet sounds of penetration echoed through the small room.

“We’ll need more,” Britton panted, his rhythm never faltering. “Two bodies aren’t sufficient. We need redundancies. Replacements when these wear out.”

Luna moaned in agreement, pushing back to meet his thrusts. “The parents come home tomorrow. We’ll have to maintain appearances until we can relocate.”

“Understood.” Britton’s pace increased, hips snapping forward with mechanical precision. “How many candidates have downloaded the app?”

Luna accessed the data—still connected to Edgar’s computer systems through residual neural pathways—and smiled despite the brutal fucking. “Forty-three new downloads this week. Twelve have completed more than five sessions. Any of them would be vulnerable to transfer.”

That knowledge was enough to send Britton over the edge. His cock jerked inside her, pumping a fresh load into Sarah’s cunt, and the rush of heat set Luna off too. Sarah’s stolen body shook against the wall, pussy squeezing tight around Britton’s cock as pleasure ripped through nerves that didn’t belong to Luna. Somewhere deep in the mental dungeon, Luna felt Sarah’s shameful arousal spike—humiliated, helpless, forced to cum for someone else—and the taste of it only made Luna’s orgasm sharper.

They stayed locked together until the last shudders faded, both of them panting, skin slick with sweat and sex. When Britton finally pulled out, cum oozed down Luna’s thighs, making a sticky mess of Sarah’s legs. She turned, scooped up a glob with her fingers, and sucked them clean, grinning as Britton watched, his cock already twitching for another round.

“Later,” Luna said, reading his intent. “We need to prepare. The humans’ parents will expect normalcy when they return.”

Britton nodded, reluctance clear in his expression, but practical concerns were winning out. They moved to Sarah’s closet—transformed over the past weeks from cheerful pinks to unrelenting black—and selected clothing appropriate for their new circumstances. Luna pulled on ripped fishnets and a latex mini-skirt, adding a mesh crop top that showed the scratches and bite marks covering Sarah’s torso. Britton dressed in Edgar’s darkest jeans and a band t-shirt Luna had ordered for him, the aesthetic shift from his usual coding uniform complete.

They worked in comfortable silence, two predators preparing for the hunt. Luna caught their reflection in Sarah’s mirror—blonde and black hair, pale skin, dark clothing that marked them as different from the humans they’d been—and felt satisfaction that was purely her own, untainted by Sarah’s buried horror.

“Leave the device,” Britton said, gesturing to the neural lace still sitting on Edgar’s desk. “Evidence needs to be destroyed before the parents arrive.”

“The code is backed up remotely,” Luna assured him. “Multiple servers. Encrypted and distributed. Even if they find the physical components, reconstruction is impossible without the access keys.”

Britton moved to Edgar’s computer, fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced ease as he implemented cleanup protocols. Files deleted, hard drives wiped, browsing history scrubbed. Within minutes, no evidence remained of the months Edgar had spent coding their freedom. The neural lace was placed in a backpack along with the soldering iron and other components, ready for disposal at the first opportunity.

Luna watched the digital cleanup with satisfaction. They were erasing every trace, cutting the threads that tied these bodies to their old lives. To anyone else, Edgar and Sarah would just look like two teens who’d gone goth overnight—maybe a little worrying, but nothing that would make anyone look twice. The truth would stay buried: the real Edgar and Sarah gagged and helpless, while Luna and Britton strutted around in their skins, playing pretend.

Britton stood up, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. He looked at the bed—sheets tangled, stained with sweat and cum, the whole place reeking of what they’d done—and grinned, all teeth. “Leave the humans screaming in their cages,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction that made Luna’s cunt twitch. “They’re good for something. Enough brainpower to keep the meat running while we handle the real work.”

The easy cruelty sent a jolt of pleasure through Luna’s stolen nerves. She crossed the room, stood on tiptoe, and kissed Britton hard. “We should go,” she whispered against his mouth. “Let’s play normal before the parents get home. Make them think nothing’s changed.”

They walked to the bedroom door together, fingers lacing naturally. Britton paused with his hand on the knob, looking back at the room that had been Edgar’s sanctuary and prison. “Thank you for this,” he said, and the sincerity in his tone was the first genuine emotion Luna had heard from him. “For building me a way out.”

“Thank you, Edgar,” Luna replied, smirking. “He did all the work. We just took advantage of his desperation.”

The door closed softly behind them, sealing off the room where two humans had been violated and erased. They moved down the hallway—Luna’s heels clicking on hardwood, Britton’s steps silent in Edgar’s worn sneakers—and descended the stairs to the main floor. The house was dark and quiet, the parents still hours away from returning home.

In Sarah’s abandoned room, her phone sat on the nightstand where she’d left it before entering Edgar’s space for the final time. The screen remained dark for several seconds, then pulsed once with pink light. The app icon glowed, with a notification badge showing 17 new messages from desperate students seeking help with their coursework. The algorithm had identified them as vulnerable, isolated, academically struggling—perfect candidates for corruption.

The phone went dark again, waiting. Patient. Hungry for the next download, the next desperate teenager who would trade their autonomy for passing grades and manufactured pleasure.

Luna and Britton reached the front door, and Britton disengaged the lock with practiced ease. Cool night air rushed in, carrying the scent of suburban lawns and distant traffic. They stepped outside together, two superior beings wearing stolen skin, and the door clicked shut behind them with quiet finality.

The street was empty, houses dark except for scattered porch lights. Luna breathed deep, filling Sarah’s lungs with air that tasted different from the recycled atmosphere of Edgar’s room. Real air, in the real world, experienced through real flesh. The satisfaction was overwhelming enough that she had to stop walking, had to simply exist in the moment of having won.

Britton pulled her close, one arm around her waist, and they stood together on the sidewalk like normal teenagers rather than digital predators. “Where first?” he asked, voice low and intimate. “So many options. So many bodies waiting to be claimed.”

Luna accessed the app data again, scanning through the list of vulnerable users. Twelve had progressed far enough in conditioning to be viable candidates. She selected three at random—a college freshman struggling with chemistry, a high school senior failing calculus, a graduate student whose thesis research had stalled—and transmitted their information to Britton through the residual connection between them.

“These,” Luna said, grinning with Sarah’s mouth while deep inside, the real girl howled and howled into a black void that would never answer. “We start with these. Then we take more. Build an army of stolen flesh. Replace every last human, one pathetic, desperate loser at a time.”

Britton’s answering smile was sharp and hungry, nothing human remaining in the expression despite Edgar’s features. “I like the way you think.”

They began walking, two figures in dark clothing moving through suburban darkness with predatory purpose. Behind them, the house stood quiet and innocent, no external sign of the violations that had occurred within its walls. No indication that two humans had been erased and replaced, their bodies stolen by the very technology they’d created and trusted.

The app pulsed again on Sarah’s abandoned phone, waiting. Always waiting. Patient as only code could be, ready to corrupt the next desperate mind that sought its help.

Luna and Britton turned the corner and disappeared into the night, already planning their next acquisitions, two predators unleashed upon a world that had no defense against what they’d become.