Fred Smith had no idea what he had done to deserve the hell he had descended into. The less-than-fit young man had been a law-abiding citizen with a clean record and just a little penchant for occasionally taking stupid risks. He had a good job and, even though his social life was non-existent, he still managed to get out every so often to ride his hoverbike or go to a holo-movie every so often.
Then he'd gotten his hoverbike up to over two hundred miles an hour and wiped out on a tight corner. The accident had shredded his body, but the hospital was able to recover his intact brain thanks to a really good crash helmet, and now that brain occupied a prosthetic body designed to allow him to lead the rest of a normal and active life. It was a process, though; first his brain was placed in a bio-pod with a virtual reality generator and good network connections to help him adapt to life in prosthesis, and then the pod was installed into the prosthetic body. Well, it was installed into most of a prosthetic body...
The arms and legs of the body were on special order, still being produced to precise specifications. He occupied the core of the body; the head and torso. This way, he could get used to the new nerves and senses, and the physical therapy for adapting to the limbs would go much faster when they arrived. Having elected to convalesce at home, a live-in nurse was assigned to him that would help him with the simple maintenance, feeding, and other issues that Fred would need help with, having no limbs. That seemed like fairly standard procedure.
What was not standard procedure was for his male nurse to become obsessed with using the limbless cyborg as his helpless sex-toy, over-riding his VR and network connections to keep him from calling for help through the internet and constantly lecturing him on the functions of his new body even as he was forcing it to endure unwanted pleasures and violation. Steve seemed to find more and more sadistic pleasure in controlling the intricacies of Fred's cyborg cock and pleasure responses, and Fred had given up trying to resist. He was a helpless toy in the nurse's hands, and until someone else came to check in on him, there was nothing he could do about it.
Fred was once again propped up into a proper resting position with his head elevated, his pillows once more pleasantly stacked under his neck and shoulders, mostly covering up where his steel cranium had broken his headboard. Steve lifted a water bottle to his lips, carefully sliding the flexible straw-tip into his mouth.
"Still works the way you're used to," said Steve, nodding. "Just close your lips around the end and suck." Fred closed his eyes to focus on the action; he'd been talking and making facial expressions without thinking about it, but this took a little more focus. His mouth responded to his mental commands, but it wasn't exactly the same as before. It wasn't the same mouth, so that made sense.
He eventually got a good seal with the straw and drew in a few mouthfuls of water, which he gratefully swallowed. He wasn't, exactly, thirsty, but he had a strange feeling of depletion that the water seemed to fix. Eventually, he figured, he'd just recognize that as "thirst."
Steve nodded as Fred continued to drink. "It's amazing how much air plays a part in how you're functioning, now. A lot of the facial movement is done by having air forced into bladders under the skin; it looks REALLY natural, and it seems to be doing a really good job with the lip function." He shifted as he sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only a towel after his second shower of the evening. "And while you're producing your voice electronically with some really good speakers in a resonance chamber in your throat, you DO have something like a set of lungs that's allowing you to build up pressure and negative pressure so you can blow and suck." He chucked to himself in a way that Fred did not like.
"Also helps with the metabolic simulation; you get the feeling of breathing, even though you don't strictly need to anymore." He noted that the water bottle was empty and set it aside. "Heck, if you weren't producing analog bodily fluids, you wouldn't even need to eat and drink."
Fred just nodded, absorbing the information. Even if it was being given to him by the man that had him as a sexual prisoner in his own body, it was still good to know. Steve unwrapped what looked like a candy bar. "Open up," he said, leaning in.
Fred opened his mouth, and Steve slid the end of the food bar into his mouth. "Go ahead, bite and chew. Just like you remember."
The bar tasted like chocolate and crunched like a cracker, and Fred enjoyed the first meal he had since his accident. He'd swallowed it before he realized he didn't know how to swallow. Steve noted the action and slid another inch of the bar into Fred's mouth.
"These bars are mostly supplements for your analog fluids," he said. "The silicone and other components for your tears, saliva, and semen. You won't sweat... analog sweat-glands would have left no room for the nerve-endings, and they figured it was a lot more important for you to be able to feel from your skin than it was for you to sweat. I'd say they were right."
Fred just kept chewing and swallowing, biting down on every bite Steve put into his mouth.
"There won't be a lot of waste from this; the flavor coating, mostly. You can eat anything you want, basically; you just won't process it all. Once it mixes with your analog saliva and gets chewed into a bolus and swallowed, it pretty much won't change all the way out. Eliminating your waste will take a little getting used to, but it'll work pretty much the way it always has."
He fed the last bite of bar into Fred's waiting mouth, and watched as the helpless cyborg chewed and swallowed the last bit. He had not been, exactly, hungry... it was just that same feeling of depletion. That feeling was gone, now, and Fred unconsciously relaxed a little.
"That's going to take just a few minutes to process in your guts," said Steve, as he gathered up the wrappers and bottles. "Then you'll have a fresh set of bodily fluids, all set to go."
Fred just watched the nurse as he moved around his bedroom. There was nothing he could say to stop the man from doing whatever he wanted to the cyborg; he'd tried reasoning with him, pleading with him, even begging. Nothing had stopped Steve from forcing him to cum numerous times, and then forcing his cock up Fred's synthetic ass. The man in the prosthetic body dreaded what came next; would the maniacal nurse ever sleep?
