"They're healing very nicely. I think it's time for us to continue your modifications," he said.

For the past week, Master Chris has cared for me like a baby. He hand-fed me, gave me sponge baths, even carried me to the toilet and wiped my ass.

When I wept over the loss of my arms and legs, he'd kiss me gently, telling me how beautiful my body looked. This caused my penis to swell, and Master Chris would then masturbate me until I shot my semen over my stomach. He then scooped it up and told me to lick his fingers clean.

Now that I'm healing, he decided it was time to continue using my body for his own pleasure. He flipped me onto my stomach, greased me up and plunged his stiff rod into me.

"Oh yeah, love that tight hole!" he yelled, pounding me into the mattress beneath his muscular body.

I found myself with a raging erection. Somehow, the feeling of helplessness now that I've lost my arms and legs was a huge turn-on.

Without cumming, Master Chris flipped me back over and pressed his hard cock against my lips. I could see it was coated with my shit, but I didn't have a choice. I opened my mouth and let him slip it inside.

"Clean it off good, boy," he said as he fucked my face. "You love it, don't you?" he laughed, seeing that my own cock was throbbing.

In my excitement, I accidentally nicked the tender skin of his penis with my teeth.

"OWWW!" he shouted, pulling his cock from my mouth. Carefully checking his dick for any cuts, he slapped me across the face.

"That's the last time that will ever happen, boy!"

Master Chris went down to his basement, and returned a few minutes later holding a gleaming stainless steel instrument. He climbed on top of me and forced my mouth open with his left hand.

I screamed when he began pulling out my teeth. The pain was incredible. One by one, the metal instrument fastened on to a tooth, and with a few hard twists he yanked it free.

I looked to my side and there was a bloody pile of teeth. Five...six....seven..... Master Chris methodically ripped them out of my mouth, ignoring my wailing and thrashing. The taste of blood was strong in my mouth.

The molars were particularly terrible. He would twist and pull over and over, the grinding sound filling my head. "Ah, there it is," he said smiling, holding up the bloody trophy for me to see.

It must have taken at least a half hour before it was over. He climbed off me and went to his dresser, returning with one of his t-shirts.

"Open up and then bite down," he said, stuffing the shirt into my mouth. "This will stop the bleeding."

I sobbed quietly as Master Chris scooped up the pile of teeth and dropped them into a glass jar.

The second modification was complete.

(To be continued)