Adult Content Warning
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Summary
You could not stop the way your face flushed, remembering all the ways the machine cared for you. Without limbs, it was difficult to eat. The machine hunted food for you, cooked it, and then feed it to you patiently. At first, you wanted to spit it back into its face (or lack thereof). Nowadays, you happily chowed down on whatever they brought you, lips meeting their metallic, blood-soaked fingers, eager for the contact. After you were done, it even helped you urinate and defecate, undoing your bindings and bringing you to an appropriate spot.
You knew, you knew it was just so it could live. Like in the tale of Hansel and Gretel, the witch would feed the boy to fatten him up, making him riper for consumption. The machine, too, fed you only to make you the perfect meal. Only in this tale, you were already being eaten. Every time your heart beat, your blood drained into its tubing. Consumption didn't require your death but it would slowly lead to it.
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Or alternatively:
You are a human trapped in a Gutterman coffin. They take care of your human needs by feeding you, and you can't help but grow fond despite knowing they're only doing it for their own survival.