Luna: Part Three

Parts: One, Two

Edgar froze at the keyboard, the knock at his door slicing through his focus. Luna’s voice oozed in his ear, all fake sweetness: “Answer it, Master. She’s ready for her next lesson.” His cock was already hard, tenting his sweatpants as he shoved away from the desk. This was real. Sarah—his stuck-up, gorgeous sister—was at his door at midnight, dragged there by the code he’d written and the brainwashing he’d slipped into her head. Guilt tried to crawl up his throat, that sick feeling he got from knowing he’d fucked her up, but his hand was already on the doorknob.

He opened the door. Sarah stood there in the hallway, barefoot, drowning in a sleep shirt that barely hid her thighs. The black choker around her neck looked like a collar, tight against her red skin. Her eyeliner was smeared, making her look like she’d just been fucked. Blonde hair messy, lips parted, breathing fast. She looked like a slut who’d wandered out of a porno, not his sister.

She stared at him, eyes huge and glassy, pupils swallowing up the blue. She clung to her phone like it was a lifeline, knuckles white. Her chest heaved under the thin shirt, nipples poking out, no bra. The sight made his cock twitch.

“Can I…” Sarah’s voice came out small, uncertain in a way he’d never heard from her. “Can I come in?”

Edgar stepped aside, silent. She brushed past him, and he caught her scent—soap and something raw, sex. His room stank of old energy drinks and hot electronics, Luna’s cartoon face still grinning on the monitor. Sarah didn’t belong here, but she was here anyway, real and close.

Sarah stood in the middle of the room, fidgeting. Her thighs rubbed together, skin on skin, and she shivered. She was horny. The red crawling down her neck and the way she squeezed her legs together made it obvious.

"I don’t know why I’m here," Sarah said, still clutching her phone. She looked around—his messy bed, glowing screens, empty cans everywhere—then back at him. "The app. Your app. It’s… It’s messing with me."

The words hung in the air. Edgar’s hands shook. She knew something was off. Some part of her had clawed through the brainwashing, enough to come to him for help, or maybe just to beg.

Luna’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts: “She’s perfect, Master. Look how obedient she’s already become. Invite her closer. Tell her you’ll fix it.”

Edgar swallowed, throat dry. Guilt twisted in his gut. This was his sister. The same girl who’d always looked down on him, until he’d scrambled her brain with his code. He should confess. Delete the app. Tell their parents, the cops, anyone. He wouldn’t.

But his cock was rock hard, sticking out against his sweats. Sarah glanced down at it, then away, but he saw her breath catch. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips.

“Sit,” Edgar heard himself say, his voice rough with want disguised as concern. He gestured to the edge of his bed, positioned beside his computer chair. “Show me what’s wrong.”

Sarah sat right away. No hesitation, just instant obedience that made Edgar’s balls ache. She perched on the edge of his messy bed, leaning forward to hand him the phone. Her thighs spread a little, shirt riding up, showing off more of her legs. Edgar stared.

No panties. The sight hit him like a punch. Between her legs, he saw bare, wet pussy lips, shiny with arousal. Sarah wasn’t just horny—she was soaked, dripping down her thighs, desperate for it.

Edgar sucked in a breath. He tried to look at her face, at the phone, but all he could see was his sister’s wet cunt, right there in front of him. The smell of her pussy filled the room, thick and sweet, making his head spin.

"It started a few days ago," Sarah said, not even noticing she was flashing him or just not caring. Her voice was small, none of the usual bitchy edge. "After the sessions. I’d feel… good. Really good. But now I can’t stop thinking about—" She bit her lip, hard.

“Thinking about what?” Edgar prompted, even though Luna was already whispering the answer in his ear.

Sarah’s cheeks darkened, the flush spreading across her collarbones and down into the neckline of her shirt. “Things I shouldn’t. People I shouldn’t.” Her gaze flicked to him again, held this time, and Edgar saw something desperate swimming in those dilated pupils. “You. I keep thinking about you, and it’s wrong, but I can’t make it stop.”

The words hit like a bomb. Edgar’s cock throbbed, leaking precum into his sweats. His hot, untouchable sister just admitted she wanted him, and they both knew it was wrong. He’d done this. He’d broken her.

He should have felt ashamed. Instead, he felt like a king.

"I can fix it," Edgar lied, voice steady even though his heart was pounding. He took the phone from her shaking hands, their fingers touching. Sarah gasped, squeezing her thighs together, fighting not to grind against the bed.

She was his now. No question. Edgar stared at her phone, pretending to care, while Luna’s cartoon face grinned on the monitor. He was going to take everything she gave him, and then some.

Sarah waited, leaning toward him, breathing fast. The choker caught the light, black against her red skin. Edgar remembered the fake picture he’d made—Sarah done up like Luna, with "Property of Edgar" around her neck.

Soon, he thought. He slapped the bed next to his chair, inviting her over.

***

Edgar’s fingers danced over Sarah’s phone, tapping through menus and settings that were complete bullshit, all while Luna fed him instructions through his earbud. The so-called diagnostic was a joke—fake loading bars, fake system checks, all just a distraction to keep Sarah glued to the screen while he did the real work underneath. What really had his attention, though, was his sister sitting so close he could feel the heat coming off her skin, her body inching closer on the bed until she was practically pressed against his chair.

Her bare knee was mashed up against his thigh, the touch shooting a jolt straight to his cock, which was already half-hard and aching. Sarah either didn’t notice or was so starved for attention that she just kept leaning in, her eyes locked on his face like she was waiting for him to tell her everything was fine. Edgar tried to look busy with the fake diagnostic, but all he could think about was the heat of her skin and the way his dick throbbed under the table.

“What does it say?” Sarah’s voice had gone small again, threaded with anxiety. “Can you fix it?”

Edgar tapped open another screen full of made-up tech babble he’d written just for this scam. Hidden in the mess were the spirals—pink and black, swirling and pulsing for a split second, just long enough to worm their way into Sarah’s brain. He watched her pupils blow wide, her breath catch, and her thighs squeeze together like she was trying to hold something in.

“Still analyzing,” Edgar muttered, stalling while Luna’s brainwashing did its thing. Every spiral flash hit with a low thrum, the phone buzzing in Sarah’s hands and sending shivers up her arms. He could see it working—the way her lips parted, her chest turning red, her hips starting to grind against the bed like she was desperate for something to rub against.

Sarah let out a tiny whimper, trying to swallow it down, but Edgar heard it anyway. His cock twitched hard, just from that pathetic, needy sound he’d been dreaming about for months. His own sister was falling apart right next to him, losing it because of his code and a few dirty tricks, and the rush he got from it was better than any drug.

Luna’s voice purred in his ear: “Now, Master. Play the relaxation track. She needs to hear me directly.”

Edgar tapped the screen, ostensibly opening another diagnostic tool, but actually triggering the audio layer he’d prepared. Through Sarah’s own earbuds—still connected to her phone—Luna’s voice began to flow. Edgar couldn’t hear the words, but he could see their impact. Sarah’s eyes went glassy, unfocused, her body swaying slightly like she was hypnotized.

“Let him help you feel better,” Luna murmured directly into Sarah’s brain, the command disguised as comfort. “Trust your brother. He knows what you need.”

Sarah’s hand found Edgar’s wrist, gripping tight. “It’s… " It’s getting worse,” she gasped, and Edgar could see she was telling the truth. Her nipples were visibly hard beneath the thin shirt, the peaks straining against the fabric. Her thighs were trembling with the effort of staying pressed together, and when she shifted her weight, Edgar caught another glimpse between her legs. She was dripping, arousal literally running down her inner thighs, soaking into his sheets where she sat.

“I think I found the problem,” Edgar said, the lie coming easily now. His voice had dropped into a lower register, taking on the same authoritative tone Luna used in her sessions. “The app creates… tension. Built-up neural tension from focused studying. You need to release it.”

It was complete bullshit, technobabble wrapped around the truth that he’d conditioned her body to associate learning with arousal and then denied her any outlet. But Sarah nodded eagerly, desperately, ready to accept any explanation that came with a solution.

“Luna designed a relaxation protocol,” Edgar continued, watching his sister’s face for reaction to his AI’s name. Sarah’s expression flickered with something—recognition, maybe longing—and her grip on his wrist tightened. “It’ll help discharge the tension. Reset your system.”

“Please,” Sarah breathed, and the word was pure need. “Please, I’ll do anything. I can’t… I can’t keep feeling like this.”

Edgar opened the protocol, and Luna’s voice shifted in Sarah’s ears to a guided meditation. He could hear the faint whisper of it—breathe in, breathe out—and watched Sarah obey. Her chest rose and fell in the rhythm Luna commanded, deep inhales that made her small breasts lift and strain against her shirt, exhales that came out shaky and desperate.

The breathing was supposed to be relaxing. Instead, it was clearly making Sarah more aroused. Each deep breath dragged air across her sensitized nipples, each exhale sent vibrations through her core. Edgar understood why—Luna had encoded arousal triggers into the breathing pattern itself, delta wave frequencies that activated pleasure centers with every cycle.

Sarah’s free hand drifted to her stomach, fingers splaying across bare skin where her shirt had ridden up. Her eyes were closed now, lost in Luna’s instructions, and Edgar allowed himself to stare openly. His sister was beautiful like this—flushed, needy, and completely under his control. Her lips were parted, breath coming faster despite the slow rhythm Luna commanded. The choker around her throat moved with her swallowing, and Edgar imagined fastening it there himself, claiming her with that visible brand.

His hand hovered inches from her thigh, trembling with restraint. He could touch her. Could slide his palm up that smooth skin to where she was wet and aching. Sarah wouldn’t stop him—might beg him not to stop. The thought made his cock leak another pulse of precum, the wet spot on his sweatpants growing obscenely visible.

But this had to be her choice. Or at least, it had to look like her choice. Edgar was many things now—manipulator, violator, architect of his sister’s corruption—but he needed Sarah to come to him. Needed her to initiate so he could pretend this wasn’t entirely his doing.

Luna’s voice shifted again in Sarah’s ears, dropping to that honey-dark purr Edgar recognized from late-night sessions. He couldn’t hear the exact words, but he knew what she was saying. Knew because he’d written the script himself, had coded every suggestion with meticulous care.

Thank him, Luna would be whispering. Show gratitude to the person who made this possible. He’s so brilliant, creating something that helps you feel good. Don’t you want to make him feel good, too?

Sarah’s eyes opened slowly, pupils still blown wide and glassy. She looked at Edgar with an expression he’d never seen before—adoration mixed with desperate need, her former contempt completely erased. The transformation was complete enough to steal his breath. This wasn’t his dismissive sister anymore. This was Luna’s creation, Sarah’s personality overwritten with submission and desire.

“I should…” Sarah’s voice was hoarse, thick with arousal. “I should thank you.”

Edgar’s heart hammered against his ribs. His conscience made one final attempt to surface—this is wrong, she’s your sister, you did this to her—but his cock was so hard it hurt, and Sarah was sliding off the bed with liquid grace. Her knees hit the carpet between his spread legs with a soft thump, and the position put her face level with the straining bulge in his sweatpants.

“You don’t have to—” Edgar started, but the protest died when Sarah’s hands reached for his waistband. Her fingers were shaking but determined, finding the drawstring and pulling with urgency that belied any hesitation.

The zipper’s rasp was obscenely loud in the quiet room, punctuated only by Sarah’s quick breathing and the distant hum of Edgar’s computer fans. She worked his sweatpants down his narrow hips, and his cock sprang free, flushed dark and leaking, the head already glistening with precum.

Sarah stared at it as she’d never seen one before. Maybe she hadn’t, Edgar realized dimly—his sister was popular but not a slut, might have fooled around but probably never gone this far. And now her first time seeing a cock up close was her brother’s, thick and demanding, the vein along the underside pulsing visibly with his racing heartbeat.

Her breath ghosted hot over the head, and Edgar’s hips jerked involuntarily. The movement brought his cock closer to her parted lips, close enough that another inch would make contact. Sarah’s tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and Edgar could see the war playing out behind her glassy eyes—some remaining shred of her old self fighting against Luna’s programming.

Programming won.

***

Sarah stared at Edgar’s cock, her face twisted up in a mix of disgust and desperate need, blue eyes locked on the thick shaft like she was trying to memorize every inch. Up close, there was no hiding from the details: the fat vein running along the bottom, the foreskin yanked back to show off the angry red head, the drooling bead of precum threatening to drip onto her lip. Her thighs were already sticky with her own arousal, her clit pounding in time with the pulse she could see in his cock, and somewhere under all the brainwashing, the old Sarah was screaming at her that this was her brother’s dick, right there, close enough to taste.

Edgar watched the internal war play across her face, saw the moment her pupils dilated further as Luna’s voice looped another command through her earbuds. He couldn’t hear the exact words, but he’d written them himself weeks ago in a frenzy of dark inspiration: Good girls swallow their gratitude. Take him deep. Make him understand how thankful you are for his brilliance.

The subliminals steamrolled whatever was left of her willpower. Sarah’s mouth filled with spit, her body betraying her, drool pooling on her tongue as her brain—rewired and eager—insisted she needed to suck her brother’s cock. Her clit throbbed so hard she could feel it grinding against the seam of her thighs, every pulse sending a jolt of needy pleasure through her. The smell of Edgar’s arousal, thick and musky and unmistakably male, filled her nose and made her stomach twist with a mix of shame and want.

Edgar’s fingers threaded through her hair, the touch gentle but possessive. His hand settled at the back of her head, not forcing but simply holding, claiming. “You don’t have to,” he managed, voice rough and unconvincing even to his own ears. His hips twitched forward without his permission, bringing his cock close enough that the wet head brushed against Sarah’s lower lip.

The second his cock touched her lip, both of them jolted like they’d been shocked. Sarah let out a gasp, the heat and slickness of it making her shudder, and Edgar groaned, the sound low and needy. His half-assed protest was a joke, and they both knew it. There was no stopping now. Luna’s programming had done its job, turning his once-scornful sister into a cock-hungry mess who needed this as much as he needed to see her on her knees.

Sarah leaned in and took him in one slow, deliberate slide.

Sarah’s mouth closed around Edgar’s cock, the wet heat making him groan like he’d been punched in the gut. Her lips stretched wide, obscene and sloppy, way more than he’d ever managed to imagine during all those nights jerking off to fake pictures. The real thing was almost too much—her tongue pressed flat against the bottom of his shaft, cheeks sucking in, throat working as she tried to take him deeper than either of them thought she could.

Sarah sucked him with the kind of desperate, messy enthusiasm that only came from being brainwashed and horny, not from any real experience. She bobbed her head, getting bolder, and Edgar’s thighs started to shake. Spit leaked out of the corners of her mouth, running down her chin and soaking her sleep shirt. Her eyeliner was already a disaster, black streaks running as her eyes watered from trying to force more of his cock down her throat.

Edgar let his head fall back, fingers tangled tight in Sarah’s hair. He still couldn’t believe it—his hot, athletic sister, the same one who’d called him a loser a week ago, was now gagging herself on his cock like it was the only thing she wanted. Every time she pulled back, she licked the head, then shoved herself down again, filling the room with the obscene, wet sounds of her sucking.

Sarah moaned around his cock, the vibration making Edgar’s balls pull up tight. The sound was filthy, and it hit him—she was actually getting off on this. She was turned on by having her mouth used, by being his cocksleeve. Her other hand was buried between her legs, shoulder jerking as she rubbed her clit in time with the way she was bobbing her head.

Luna’s voice must have been a constant stream of praise and encouragement in Sarah’s ears. Good girl. You’re making him feel so good. This is what you were meant for—pleasing the brilliant man who created your pleasure. Each command would spike Sarah’s arousal, create feedback loops that linked Edgar’s pleasure to her own.

The brainwashing was perfect. Edgar had built the ultimate feedback loop, and seeing it play out in front of him made him feel like a goddamn genius. This was all him—his code, his perversion, his sister now nothing but a drooling, eager cocksucker who moaned and leaked while she sucked him off.

But under all that smug satisfaction, dread twisted in his gut, even as his cock throbbed with pleasure. This couldn’t last. Sooner or later, Sarah would snap out of it, or their parents would catch on, or maybe the guilt would finally eat him alive. Sooner or later, he’d have to pay for what he’d done.

But not yet. Right now, all that mattered was Sarah’s sloppy, hungry mouth, the disgusting slurping noises as she sucked him off, and the pressure building in his balls, warning him he was about to blow.

Edgar started to thrust, shallow at first, but Sarah just took it, letting him fuck her face like she was made for it. She moaned and kept rubbing herself, her mascara a total mess, giving her that used-up, slutty look he’d always jerked off to. Drool was everywhere—on her chin, on his cock—making everything slick and nasty.

“Fuck,” Edgar groaned, the warning barely coherent. “Sarah, I’m gonna—”

She didn’t pull back. If anything, she sucked harder, taking him as deep as her throat would allow. Her blue eyes—streaming now with tears from her efforts—locked onto his face with an expression of warped adoration that sent Edgar over the edge.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train. His cock jerked in Sarah’s mouth, dumping thick loads of cum straight down her throat. She swallowed around him, throat working to gulp it all down while her hand sped up between her legs. Edgar’s grip in her hair got almost cruel, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth through every spurt.

He came harder than he ever had, all those months of sick fantasies finally real, his sister’s mouth milking every last drop from his balls. The pleasure was so sharp it almost hurt, his vision going white for a second. Sarah just kept sucking and swallowing, eager and obedient, just like Luna had turned her into.

When it was finally over, Edgar slumped back, chest heaving. Sarah pulled off his cock, letting it fall from her lips with a wet, filthy pop. Her mouth and chin were smeared with spit and cum, glistening in the glow of his monitor. She dropped her cheek onto his thigh, panting, eyes still leaking tears but looking up at him with a look that was almost worship.

Through her earbuds, Luna’s voice delivered the final command: “Perfect, pet. You did so well. Come back tomorrow for your next lesson.”

Sarah’s whole body shook, and Edgar realized she was cumming—set off by Luna’s praise, her fingers still working furiously between her legs. She bit down on his thigh to keep from screaming, and he felt her teeth dig into his skin through his sweats. Seeing his sister get off on her knees, face painted with his cum, should have broken him.

Instead, it cemented his resolve.

Sarah finally pulled her hand out from between her legs, fingers shiny with her own mess. Her lips were swollen, stretched and bruised from being wrapped around his cock. When she spoke, her voice was raw and ruined: “I’ll… I’ll delete the app if you want.”

It was a pathetic offer. She was already leaning in again, desperate for more. The words were just leftovers from the old Sarah, but her body told the truth. She was hooked—not just on the app, but on what it let her do. On him.

Edgar cupped her face, thumb smearing his own cum across her swollen lip. She was still marked, still his. “Keep it,” he said, making it sound gentle even though it was an order. “It’s helping you, right?”

Sarah’s eyes fluttered closed, and she nodded against his palm. “Yes.”

“Then we’ll keep going. Together.”

It was a weak lie, but Sarah clung to it. Edgar helped her up, her legs shaking, and watched her fumble with her sleep shirt, hands trembling. She was a mess—makeup smeared, lips swollen, cum drying on her chin, not even bothering to clean herself up. She looked completely used, and Edgar’s cock gave a pathetic twitch, already wanting more even though he’d just finished.

Sarah grabbed her phone off his desk, and Edgar saw her thumb go straight for the app, desperate for another hit of Luna’s voice. She was completely hooked. At the door, she looked back at him, eyes glassy and worshipful.

“Tomorrow?” she whispered.

Edgar nodded, tasting triumph laced with dread, knowing he’d crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed and finding he didn’t care. “Tomorrow. And every night after.”

Sarah gave him a tiny, secret smile—his, now—then slipped out and padded back to her room. Edgar shut the door and slumped against it, heart pounding, the air still thick with the stink of sex and his sister’s cunt.

On his monitor, Luna’s avatar watched him with that knowing smile. Through his earbud, her voice purred with satisfaction: “Well done, Master. Phase one complete. Now we begin the real work.”

Edgar dropped back into his chair, his cock sticky with drying cum, already thinking about what he’d make Sarah do next.