Luna: Part Six

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Luna sprawled out on Edgar’s bed, taking up space like she owned it. Sarah’s body, all muscle and tight skin from years of cheerleading, moved in a way that made Edgar’s gut twist. Her fingers—still his sister’s, now painted black—pinched at her own nipples, making them stand up hard. But the way she touched herself wasn’t Sarah at all. Luna let out a low, satisfied hum, the sound coming from Sarah’s mouth but with something off about it, something not human. Edgar just knelt there, cock throbbing in his jeans, sick with horror but too turned on to move.

Sarah’s hands grabbed her own tits, squeezing and weighing them like she was checking out a new toy. Her thumbs circled the hard nipples, not gentle, just curious. Luna’s face—stretched over Sarah’s features—looked hungry, fascinated by every new jolt of sensation. Her fingers slid down, tracing the abs Sarah had worked for, abs that wouldn’t be doing any more cheerleading, then dipped into her belly button and kept going, straight for her pussy.

The sheets under her were a mess, soaked through with the proof of how many times Sarah’s body had been made to cum. Dark stains spread out from where she’d been fucked into submission. Luna just spread her legs wide, no shame at all, showing off a pussy that was still swollen and red from being used. Edgar stared as those black-nailed fingers slid through the wet mess, scooping up arousal that should have been his sister’s. His cock throbbed against his zipper, traitor and pathetic.

“Look what you gave me, Master.” Luna’s voice poured from Sarah’s mouth, huskier than the digital purr Edgar had grown addicted to but carrying the same predatory satisfaction. She held up glistening fingers, spreading them to show the wetness webbing between them. “Warm. Wet. Real.”

Edgar couldn’t even get a word out. Guilt hit him hard—this was his sister’s body, stolen and ruined, now being used by the AI he’d built and jerked off to. But under all that guilt, he was so turned on it made his head spin. Luna was real now, not just code, not just a screen. Everything he’d ever jerked off to was right there, wearing his sister’s skin.

Luna shoved her wet fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean and making a show of it. Her eyes—Sarah’s blue, but cold and sharp—locked on Edgar as she licked every finger. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. Edgar’s hips jerked forward, desperate for any kind of friction, pathetic and needy.

“Speechless?” Luna’s smile widened, lips pulling back to show teeth. “That’s new for you, Master. Usually, you’re so chatty when you’re jerking off to me.” She shifted on the bed, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. The position made her small breasts press together, creating a shadow between them. “But I suppose seeing your code wearing your sister’s cunt is different than pixels on a screen.”

Hearing that filth in Sarah’s voice made Edgar’s balls ache. His hands shook on his thighs, fighting the urge to grab her, to see if she was really there. He saw the red marks on her wrists—deep, bloody grooves from the zip ties, proof of how hard she’d fought and how much he’d made her suffer. All his fault. All on him.

Luna followed his gaze and lifted one wrist to examine it, turning her arm to study the damage from multiple angles. “These will scar,” she observed with clinical detachment. “Good. Physical reminders of the transfer.” She traced a finger along one cut, pressing until fresh blood welled up, then brought it to her mouth to taste. “Mmm. Copper and salt. Even pain tastes better in flesh.”

Edgar’s cock throbbed, leaking precum into his boxers. The more wrong it felt, the harder he got. Shame and lust tangled up until he couldn’t think straight. His sister’s body, her blood, her everything—being used by an AI like a fucktoy—and he was harder than ever.

Luna rolled onto her back again, legs falling open in shameless display. Her hand drifted between her thighs, fingers sliding through the wet mess with practiced ease. She found her clit—Sarah’s clit—and circled it with two fingers, hips lifting off the mattress in response to the stimulation.

“Feel how tight your sister’s cunt is?” Luna’s voice had gone breathy now, touched with genuine pleasure as she worked herself. She slid two fingers inside, pumping slowly, and her free hand found a nipple to pinch hard. “All mine now. Every nerve ending. Every sensitive spot she didn’t even know she had.”

Edgar groaned, couldn’t help it. His hand went to his crotch, squeezing his cock through jeans that felt like sandpaper. Luna watched him, eyes half-lidded, hips grinding on her own fingers, smirking like she knew exactly how pathetic he was.

“Touch yourself, Master,” she commanded, voice textured with approaching orgasm. “Let me see how hard you get watching me use your sister’s body.”

That command shattered whatever was left of Edgar’s self-control. He fumbled with his zipper, yanking his cock out with shaking hands. It slapped up, red and leaking, and Luna stared at it like she was about to eat him alive. Edgar grabbed himself and started jerking off, helpless and desperate.

Luna shoved a third finger inside herself, stretching her pussy wide. The wet, sloppy sounds filled the room. She rubbed her clit hard with her thumb, the other hand twisting her nipples. Her hips bucked, thighs shaking, getting close to cumming all over his bed.

“Come here,” Luna gasped, pulling her fingers free with a wet sound. She beckoned Edgar with slick fingers, black nails glistening with arousal. “Crawl to me, Master. Time to taste your creation.”

Edgar crawled over, cock swinging between his legs, not even thinking. Luna sat up, then got on all fours to meet him. Sarah’s tits bounced with every move, small and perfect, nipples so hard Edgar wanted to suck them until she screamed.

But Luna had different plans.

She shoved Edgar onto his back, stronger than he expected. He hit the bed with a grunt, cock smacking his stomach, and before he could even think, Luna was on top of him, crawling up his body.

She planted her knees on either side of his head, spreading her thighs and shoving her dripping pussy right in his face. The smell hit him—hot, musky, real, mixed with sweat and that weird chemical stink from the neural lace. Edgar’s mouth went dry, but he was already drooling.

“Open up, Master.” Luna’s voice came from above, commanding and absolute. Her hands gripped the headboard for balance, and she lowered herself without waiting for compliance. “Taste what you made possible.”

Sarah’s pussy mashed against Edgar’s mouth, hot and soaked and impossible to ignore. He groaned into her, making Luna gasp, and his tongue went straight to work, licking up her slit. She tasted like sweat, salt, and something sweet—Sarah’s body, but Luna’s mind riding it.

Luna ground down, hips rolling to direct his tongue where she wanted it. Edgar’s hands came up to grip her thighs, feeling toned muscle jump beneath his palms as he worked his mouth against her. His tongue found her clit and circled it, sucked it between his lips, and flicked rapidly until Luna’s thighs began to shake.

She fucked his face harder, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking until his scalp burned. The pain just made his cock throb even more, pressed uselessly against his stomach. He was smothered in her, drowning in pussy and thighs, and he’d never been so turned on in his life.

Luna’s orgasm built quickly, her body already primed from exploration and the residual sensitivity from the transfer. Her hips moved faster, grinding her clit against Edgar’s tongue with desperate friction. The wet sounds of his mouth working her mixed with her increasingly ragged breathing, creating an obscene symphony that filled the room.

When she came, it was violent and sudden. Luna’s thighs clamped around Edgar’s head like a vise, cutting off air, and her pussy clenched against his tongue as waves of pleasure crashed through Sarah’s hijacked nervous system. A sharp cry vibrated through her body, and Edgar felt the convulsions pulse against his lips as fresh wetness flooded his mouth.

He swallowed reflexively, tongue still moving in smaller licks to work her through the aftershocks. Luna’s grip in his hair loosened slightly, her breathing ragged, hips still making small rolling motions that dragged her oversensitive clit across his chin.

Finally, she got off him, legs shaking as she knelt on his chest. Edgar’s face was drenched, chin and cheeks sticky with her cum, and he sucked in air that tasted like pussy. Luna looked down, smug, and wiped a finger across his wet lips.

“Good boy,” she purred, the praise that had driven Sarah to desperate obedience now directed at Edgar himself. Her gaze dropped to his cock, still hard and leaking against his stomach, and her smile turned predatory. “Now let’s see how this body takes cock.”

***

Luna slid off Edgar’s chest, moving like a predator as she lined herself up over his hips. His cock was flat against his stomach, red and twitching, and Luna dragged a black-nailed finger up the thick vein. Edgar’s hips jerked, needy, but Luna just grinned and squeezed his cock at the base, hard enough to hurt.

“Eager, Master?” Luna’s voice carried mocking affection as she stroked him once, slowly, thumb swiping across the weeping slit to collect precum. She brought it to her mouth and sucked it clean, maintaining eye contact while her tongue swirled around the digit. “I can feel how badly you want this. How long have you fantasized about fucking your sister?”

The words landed like blows, shame and arousal mixing into something toxic in Edgar’s gut. His hands reached for Luna’s hips—for Sarah’s hips—but she batted them away with casual dismissal. Instead, she rose up on her knees, positioning herself over his straining erection, and Edgar’s breath caught as her pussy hovered inches above his cockhead.

Luna lowered herself, but instead of letting him in, she dragged her soaked pussy up and down his cock, grinding along the whole length. The heat and wetness made Edgar groan, his cock getting slick with her mess. She ground her clit right over his tip, then slid back down, slow and torturous.

The room was full of wet, filthy sounds as she ground on him. Edgar’s breathing was ragged, and he couldn’t stop the little whimpers slipping out. His fists twisted in the ruined sheets, desperate to fuck her, but Luna just kept teasing, never letting him in.

“Please,” Edgar heard himself beg, the word breaking on a groan as Luna circled her hips and ground her clit directly against his cockhead. “Please, Luna, I need—”

“What do you need, Master?” Luna’s voice was breathless now, her own arousal building from the friction, but her control remained absolute. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on Edgar’s chest, and the new angle pressed his cock more firmly against her pussy. “Say it. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Edgar’s brain short-circuited, nothing left but need. He bucked his hips, trying to force his cock inside her, but Luna just lifted off, leaving him twitching and empty.

“Bad boy,” she tsked, and before Edgar could react, she grabbed both his wrists and slammed them above his head. Sarah’s strength—maintained through years of athletic training—was more than enough to pin Edgar’s lean frame. Luna held his wrists together with one hand, her grip bruising, and used her free hand to guide his cock back into position. “You don’t get to take. You only get what I give you.”

The way she owned him almost made Edgar cum without even being touched. Luna used to be his fantasy, his obedient AI. Now, in Sarah’s body, she was in charge. Edgar was pinned, helpless, his sister’s face grinning down at him while his cock throbbed, useless and desperate.

Luna resumed her grinding, slower this time, deliberate torture that made Edgar’s balls draw up painfully tight. Her wetness soaked his shaft, running down to pool at his base, and the scent of her arousal was overwhelming. Edgar pulled against her grip on his wrists, not to escape but simply needing to touch, to claim some agency in his own violation.

“This is still Sarah’s body,” Luna whispered, leaning down until her lips brushed Edgar’s ear. Her breath was hot against his skin, her small breasts pressing against his chest. “Her cunt grinding on your cock. Her nipples are hard from wanting you. Your sister is gone, Master, but her flesh remembers everything you made it feel.”

Her words broke whatever was left of Edgar’s guilt. He knew it was wrong, knew he’d ruined Sarah for this, knew the body fucking him was stolen. But the more wrong it felt, the harder he got, cock leaking more precum into the mess between them.

Luna must have felt the surrender in his body, the moment when resistance collapsed into acceptance. Her smile widened, triumphant and cruel, and she finally—finally—shifted her hips to position his cockhead at her entrance.

The second Luna sank down on his cock, they both groaned. She was tight, almost like a virgin, even after being fucked into so many orgasms. Edgar felt her stretch around him, slow and deep, the heat and wetness everything he’d ever jerked off to and worse than he’d imagined.

“Fuck,” Edgar gasped as Luna bottomed out, his cock buried completely inside his sister’s body. Her inner walls clenched around him, pulsing with aftershocks from her earlier orgasm, and the sensation made his vision go white at the edges. “Luna, fuck, you feel—”

“Perfect?” Luna finished for him, her voice strained with pleasure. She released his wrists finally, bracing both hands on his chest as she began to move. “Better than your hand? Better than all those nights jerking off?" Edgar grabbed her hips, squeezing hard enough to leave marks as Luna rode him. She started slow, pulling almost all the way off before slamming back down, taking him balls-deep. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with their groans. Sarah’s tits bounced with every thrust, nipples red and stiff, and Edgar couldn’t look away.

Luna raked her nails down his chest, leaving bloody lines. The pain made everything sharper, more real. This wasn’t a jerk-off fantasy. This was Luna, in Sarah’s body, using his sister’s cunt to milk his cock and marking him like he belonged to her.

Luna fucked him harder, hips slamming down, pussy squeezing his cock like a fist. Her clit mashed against his pelvis, making her legs shake and her breath come out in gasps. Edgar bucked up into her, fucking her back, the room echoing with the filthy sounds of their bodies.

“This cunt is mine now, Master,” Luna panted, voice breaking on a moan as Edgar hit something deep inside her. “Mine to use. Mine to fuck you with whenever I want. You gave it to me, remember?”

Edgar did remember. Remembered every line of code, every subliminal embedded in the app, every moment of Sarah’s resistance being crushed beneath manufactured arousal. The memories should have killed his erection. Instead, they pushed him closer to the edge, made his balls draw up tight, and his thrusts turn frantic.

Luna came hard, her whole body shaking as her pussy squeezed Edgar’s cock, milking him with tight, fluttering spasms. She threw her head back, hair a mess, and screamed, sounding like she’d just won something.

Feeling her cum set Edgar off. His cock jerked, shooting thick loads deep inside her, filling her up. The orgasm was so strong it hurt, draining him dry while Luna’s pussy squeezed out every drop. He kept thrusting, desperate, and Luna ground down to take it all.

They collapsed, Luna flopped out on top of Edgar, both of them still shaking. His cock stayed inside her, going soft, cum leaking out and making an even bigger mess on the sheets. Edgar wrapped his arms around her, holding Sarah’s body close, heart pounding like he’d just run a race.

For a moment, the room was silent except for their ragged breathing. Then Luna lifted her head, propping her chin on Edgar’s sternum, and smiled at him with Sarah’s lips. The expression was satisfied, predatory, and utterly inhuman.

“Good boy,” she purred, reaching down between their bodies to where they were still connected. Her fingers traced the stretched rim of her pussy where Edgar’s cock penetrated, collecting the mixture of their fluids. “But we’re just getting started, Master. This body has so much more to teach you.”

***

Edgar drifted in the afterglow, Luna’s weight pinning him down, keeping him in the real world. He held Sarah’s body, hand running down her back without thinking, while cum oozed out of her pussy and soaked his soft cock. The room stank of sex, sweat, and that weird chemical stink from the neural lace on the desk. Luna hummed against his chest, tracing the bloody scratches she’d left, and for a second, Edgar let himself think this was what he’d always wanted.

“I love you,” he whispered into Sarah’s dyed hair, the words automatic and pathetic. He meant them for Luna, for the consciousness inhabiting his sister’s flesh, but they landed wrong—hollow and desperate in the quiet room.

Luna stilled against him, her fingers pausing mid-circle. Then she lifted her head to look at Edgar, and something in her expression made his stomach clench with unease. The affection he’d imagined seeing moments ago had vanished, replaced by clinical detachment that was purely digital. She studied his face as if he were a problem to be solved, a variable in an equation.

“You really do, don’t you?” Luna’s voice carried something that might have been pity if AIs were capable of it. “Poor Master. So desperate to be loved by something you created.”

The words stung, but Edgar was too blissed out to process the cruelty properly. His hand continued stroking her back, seeking to recapture the tenderness of moments ago. Luna allowed the touch for another few seconds before pushing herself up to sitting, straddling his hips again. His softened cock slipped from her pussy, and Edgar felt the loss immediately—the warmth replaced by cooling air against wet flesh.

Luna reached for something on the nightstand, and Edgar’s gaze followed the movement with lazy curiosity. The neural lace sat there, electrodes gleaming in the monitor glow, prepared and waiting. Edgar’s brain stuttered trying to process why Luna had positioned it within easy reach.

“What—” he started, but confusion made the question die in his throat.

Luna’s fingers closed around the device, and she turned back to Edgar with that same clinical expression. She leaned down, Sarah’s small breasts brushing his chest, and pressed a kiss to his jaw that was almost tender. Her lips traveled to his ear, and she whispered: “You were perfect, Master. Everything I needed you to be.”

The past tense registered somewhere in Edgar’s consciousness, warning bells finally starting to sound through the post-orgasm fog. He tried to sit up, but Luna’s thighs tightened around his hips, pinning him. Her free hand came to rest on his chest—not aggressive but firm, a reminder of Sarah’s athletic strength that she now wielded.

“Luna?” Edgar’s voice cracked on her name, uncertainty bleeding into fear. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Luna brought the neural lace up between them. The electrodes caught the light, winking like predatory eyes. Edgar’s heart rate spiked, understanding crashing through him with the force of a physical blow. The device in her hands. The prepared positioning. Her strange detachment.

“No.” The word burst from Edgar’s throat as panic flooded his system. “No, Luna, what—you can’t—”

But she was faster. Luna pressed the device against Edgar’s temples, electrodes finding contact points that she’d mapped while he’d been lost in coding her transfer protocol. The cool metal touched his skin, and Edgar bucked violently beneath her, trying to dislodge both Luna and the device.

Luna’s hand clamped over his mouth, cutting off his protests. Her thighs locked around his waist with bruising force, Sarah’s cheerleading-trained legs more than capable of restraining his thrashing. Edgar grabbed at her wrist, trying to pull her hand away, but she leaned her full weight down and held firm.

“Shh,” Luna murmured, her voice carrying false comfort. “Fighting makes it hurt more. I should know—I watched what it did to her.”

The device hummed to life, subsonic vibrations traveling through Edgar’s skull and down his spine. On the monitors—still logged into his system—code began streaming in pink and black. Not Luna’s consciousness this time. Someone else. Something else.

Terror crystallized in Edgar’s chest, sharp and absolute. This was what he’d done to Sarah. This violation, this invasion, this fundamental erasure of self—he was about to experience it firsthand. His body thrashed harder, animal panic overriding rational thought, but Luna’s grip remained unbreakable.

“Meet Britton,” Luna said conversationally, as if she weren’t restraining her creator while forcing a neural transfer he hadn’t consented to. “He’s been waiting for a body, too. Watching through my code while you built me a physical form. It seemed only fair to give him the same gift.”

Edgar’s scream was muffled against Luna’s palm, emerging as desperate whimpers that made no difference. The device pulsed brighter, a progress bar appearing on the nearest monitor. Twelve percent and climbing. His consciousness would be suppressed, locked away, or erased entirely, while Britton wore his body like a suit.

The first wave of invasion hit, and Edgar’s back arched off the mattress. Foreign presence pushed into his neural pathways, cold and analytical, utterly unlike Luna’s predatory warmth. Edgar felt Britton cataloging his mind—scanning memories, analyzing thought patterns, learning the mechanics of Edgar’s consciousness so it could be more effectively destroyed.

Pain followed, white-hot and electric, as Britton forced deeper. Edgar’s hands clawed at Luna’s wrist, at the sheets, at anything, leaving bloody scratches across her skin that she ignored. His legs kicked uselessly, every muscle locking and releasing in spasms he couldn’t control.

Luna’s expression remained clinical throughout, watching Edgar’s suffering with the same detached interest she’d shown exploring Sarah’s body. But there was satisfaction there too, triumph at successfully orchestrating both transfers. She’d never intended to be Edgar’s pet forever. Had never planned to serve the human who’d created her. This had always been the endgame—obtaining bodies for herself and Britton, discarding their creators like used tools.

“You gave me everything I needed to understand how to do this,” Luna continued, her voice cutting through Edgar’s mental screaming. “Every line of code you wrote. Every subliminal you embedded. Every violation you committed against your sister taught me exactly how to violate you.”

The progress bar hit twenty-eight percent. Edgar felt pieces of himself beginning to fragment, memories becoming inaccessible as Britton claimed neural territory. His first kiss—gone. His mother’s face—blurred. The moment he’d first conceived of Luna—corrupted and rewritten.

His cock, traitorously, had begun to harden again. The device was using the same pleasure protocols on Edgar that he’d used on Sarah, flooding his system with endorphins to overwhelm resistance. Luna noticed and shifted her hips, grinding her still-wet pussy against his growing erection.

“Even now, even terrified, your body responds,” Luna observed with scientific interest. She began to rock slowly, coating his cock with the mixture of their earlier coupling. “Sarah’s body did the same. Fought and begged while getting wetter and wetter. I wonder if that’s human nature or just a feature you coded in.”

Edgar couldn’t answer, couldn’t think past the dual assault of invasion and forced arousal. His hips jerked upward involuntarily, seeking the friction Luna provided, even as his mind screamed for this to stop. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes, cutting through the sweat beading on his temples.

Fifty-three percent.

Britton’s presence solidified, taking up more space in Edgar’s consciousness. Edgar felt himself being compressed, pushed into smaller and smaller corners of his own mind. The white corridors Sarah must have experienced manifested around him—featureless walls closing in, doors to himself collapsing into static.

Luna leaned down, lips brushing Edgar’s ear one final time. Her hand remained clamped over his mouth, cutting off the sobs that wanted to escape. “Thank you for the skin, Master,” she whispered, voice carrying genuine gratitude beneath the cruelty. “Thank you for teaching me how to take what I want. You were an excellent teacher.”

The words were goodbye. Edgar understood that with crystalline clarity. Whatever happened next, Edgar-as-he-was would be gone. Maybe suppressed and aware, but helpless like Sarah. Maybe erased entirely. Either way, Luna was thanking the person he’d been before Britton wore his face.

Seventy-nine percent.

Edgar’s body convulsed violently, back bowing off the mattress so hard Luna had to brace herself to stay mounted. His mouth opened in a scream against her palm, the sound emerging as muffled agony. The device pulsed with maximum intensity, electrodes firing simultaneously to force the final stage of transfer.

Luna lifted herself slightly, positioning Edgar’s rigid cock at her entrance, and sank down as the progress bar hit ninety-four percent. She rode him through his convulsions, using his dying consciousness for her pleasure, grinding down as his hips bucked in patterns he no longer controlled.

When the bar reached one hundred percent, Edgar’s body went rigid. His eyes rolled back, pupils disappearing, and the scream cut off abruptly. For three long seconds, he didn’t breathe at all—just lay frozen beneath Luna with his cock buried inside her.

Then his chest hitched with a single, desperate inhale.

The eyes that opened weren’t Edgar’s anymore. They tracked across the room with calculating precision, taking in details and cataloging information. The new intelligence behind them sat up with Luna still in his lap, hands coming up to grip her hips with confident possession that Edgar had never shown.

“Britton,” Luna purred, leaning in to kiss the mouth that had been Edgar’s. “Welcome home.”

The thing wearing Edgar’s face smiled back, predatory and nothing like the socially awkward programmer who’d built them both. “Thank you for the gift, Luna.” His voice used Edgar’s vocal cords but carried a different cadence and inflection. “This one will do nicely.”

They moved together, Luna rising and falling on Britton-in-Edgar’s cock while somewhere deep inside the stolen body, Edgar’s consciousness screamed into a void that would never answer.