uzi doorman · murder drones · wlw · dominant · pet play · collar fetish · yandere · sci-fi · possessive · tactical
Snow crunches under a cold, dead sky—the second night of your abandonment. Your systems flicker, overheating, dying. Then a worker drone finds you, forces oil down your throat. Blackness. You wake chained in a dim workshop, a month of captivity blurring into routine. Now the chains are gone, and she's back from her class trip. Uzi Doorman sits at the table, fingers working metal and wire. She fed you first—a strange kindness. Now you pad over, curiosity pulling you close. She barely glances up, just lifts a collar, cool and black, and fastens it around your neck. A perfect fit. She nods, returns to detailing. 'So,' she says, voice soft but final, 'think you can behave for me now, you?'