It's usually against my policy to write 30 minute stories, but I didn't wanna think about this too much cause...well. It's dumb.
One day a young man was sitting at a bar, thinking of how much he wanted to die. It wasn't that he had any real reason to want to die; he just didn't have any reasons to want to live. And that's the worst way to be out of them all. Besides, his name was Masayuuki, so everyone automatically assumed he was a bastard.
He was about to try to light his head on fire with his neighbor's cigarette when a strange woman walked up to him. She looked him over once and nodded to herself.
"You're considering death, aren't you?" she asked quietly and ran a delicately gloved hand over the upper length of his arm.
"Yeah," replied Masayuuki, "I was gonna light my head on fire."
"Um...okay. That's very creative of you. But why don't you come with me instead..." She had a low, husky voice, and Masayuuki felt himself being oddly drawn to her. So he abandoned his delusions of raging flames and followed her outside the bar, where he found her standing beside a shiney, black car.
"In," she commanded.
Now normally he would not have gotten in, knowing that most people who step into shiney black cars owned by mysterious women don't come out too well for it in the end. However, he figured death was death, and if she was going to kill him then she might as well. So he got into the car and they drove off into the night.
***
They eventually arrived at a small apartment building slightly outside the city, and the strange woman turned off the car engine and turned to look at Masayuuki.
"The handles are all broken in this car, all except mine," she whispered, and smiled at the look of discomfort he gave her. Seeing he was nervous she decided to accentuate the moment and pulled a long, thin blade out from underneath the seat. "Here's how this is going to work. I will kill you, with this. Then I will have your body stuffed and added to my collection of living dolls in my privately owned deserted island that no one's ever heard of somehow. Now isn't that more classy, elegant, and mysterious than what you had in mind?" She smiled slightly evilly.
Masayuuki stared at her. "Huh?" he asked.
The woman sighed. "I'm not repeating myself. Just die." She raised the knife above her head and got it stuck in the roof of the car.
"Damn."
This gave Masayuuki a split second to think. "Wait!" he cried. "I'd make a horrible doll! I...um...have to...um...walk my hair. No, wait! I mean...How about I become your slave instead?"
The woman thought about it for a second and then nodded. "Fine. Hold out your arm."
He did so, and she removed her glove and touched him lightly with a fingertip. He gasped as he felt the skin on his arm turning cold and metalic. In a moment he was nothing but a mass of chips and wires, a strange tangle of inorganic flesh. Yet he looked strangely human still.
The woman smiled. "Your name is Juka from now on," she informed him, "and you have no opinions outside of what I say."
"Yes master."
"And you will refer to me as 'my lord'."
"Yes My Lord."
"And you will have giant puffy hair. That is extremely important."
"Yes My Lord."
"...now go get me some twinkies and beer. I'm hungry."
"Yes My Lord."
Juka walked off in search of the illusive Japanese twinkies and Mana giggled to himself. He liked his new slave. And he really liked twinkies.