Danni and Johnny
"Don't save anyone that doesn't want to be saved."
Chapter One
Peel off your light, I have no interest in it, her voice resonated in my head. It was one of those moments when you’re in the middle of something and a single thought pulls you into another scene and all of a sudden seconds seem like hours and when your attention finally snaps back into reality you realize how boring your life really is. As boring as standing in line to get an unnecessarily expensive coffee with enough extra shots to jump start your heart. The only problem was, I wasn’t dead. I only felt like it. I was never a morning person, and being up this early was a definite struggle, more so driving to work than it was getting up from bed. Luckily, I made it in one piece, no harm no foul. Although a couple of angry drivers that impatiently followed behind me on the interstate would probably disagree with this statement.
Peel off your light, I have no interest in it. Tell me everything about your darkness as described by it. Her voice echoed through the walls of my mind once more. It had been two years now since I last spoke to Danielle. I had found out after some extensive research that her funeral was going to take place in two days, and I was nervous as hell to make an appearance. It seemed odd to me since they never really found her body. Would people just pay their respects to an empty casket? Would her family show up? And if they did, what would they say, would they even care? I wasn’t sure—the only thing I was definitely sure about though was that I wanted to pay my respects. Even if only the idea of her being there remained within the casket.
Danni was like the Bonnie to my Clyde—sure I had only known her for a year, but to me it was like I had known her all my life. We had met in a chat room back in 2014 one really depressing night after I came home from work. I was lonesome, angry, and for the most part, bored, so I jumped on the computer and swam in the notorious wave that is the internet. After some tosses and turns I stumbled upon a strange but attractive website called yourdarkfantasies.com where everything operated inside chat rooms and you got partnered up randomly. After a couple of failed attempts to “Connect with your Dark,” as the website put it, I came across partialtoknives89 and the conversation starter she opened up with was “What do you consider a dark fucked up fantasy?” It was at this very moment that I knew this was the type of person I didn’t need to hold back from. I could easily just give in, open up about every dark corner in my mind and somehow, I knew she’d be okay with it.
So I stared at the message and waited for a few seconds. I was trying to figure out how to put the words into a sentence—instead, I said fuck it and typed away. My message read, “I've always imagined wild, animalistic angry sex. I guess it was one of those dark fantasies where I envisioned it happening inside an obscure, broody room, with me in chains. No windows, no light. It would start with her coming up behind me, then suddenly feeling her scratching my back with her nails, hard. Shivers crawling down my spine, the anticipation building up, the anger boiling. My hands being chained to the side, so as to me being unable to reach out and grab her. Not knowing what she will do next would be interesting, especially in the dark. The desperation would piggyback off the anticipation and being in a state of anger and frustration would only boil all that up even more. And you know what happens when you cage a beast. The beast will do anything to get loose. What's your fantasy?”
There was no response for a few minutes as she was typing away. It made me nervous as I thought she might not want to talk to me or perhaps my fantasy seemed lame. After a bit, she responded with “I can probably go with this: Him and I are yelling at each other about a past argument and all of a sudden it gets very heated. The yelling gets out of control so eventually I back-hand him. This catches him off-guard, so he stops talking and stares at me. His silence prompts me to punch him square in the nose. After feeling for blood coming out of his nose he rushes towards me and shoves me against the wall. I can feel his hot breath against my neck. He firmly asks me to beg for his forgiveness and a short sorry escapes my lips. He slowly paces back a bit and we’re eye to eye. He pulls on my hair downward and starts kissing me, hard, violently. His blood touches my face. All of a sudden he grabs me and carries me to the bedroom. He throws me on the bed and pounces on top of me, whispering stay put and reaches for the first drawer on the nightstand next to the bed. He pulls out a pair of handcuffs, flips me over and proceeds to chain my hands to the headboard. While on top of me he starts slipping off my pants and underwear. He lifts my hips and I can feel the anticipation and fear rush over my whole body. He starts spanking me and as I try not to cry out, it infuriates him more and so he proceeds to spank harder. I let a whimper escape my lips and he stops frantically. His lips reach my ear quickly and I hear him whisper don’t move a muscle and jumping off the bed I hear his zipper come undone. He is now fully undressed and pulls out a knife out from the second drawer on the nightstand. I can feel the tip of the cold blade slowly caressing my cheeks, then up my back, and I hear my top rip as he violently cuts it and tears it from me. The same thing happens to my bra and he tosses the pieces aside to the ground. I can feel his package against me, and as he continues to play with his knife softly down my back, I can feel him enter me. He reminds me that if I make a noise I get a spank and that if I get louder I get to feel the blade against my back. This goes on and he finally finishes inside me. He lets out a sign of relief and collects himself, moving off the bed towards the nightstand, drops the knife in the second drawer and then reaches for the cuffs. He releases me and turns me around, pulling me into his arms as he sits against the headboard of the bed. We’re in a seated position and he starts brushing the tears from my face. I start telling him that I am sorry, to please forgive me—we end up spooning on the bed as he softly strokes my skin. After a while he warns me that next time it will be worse if I ever lay a hand on him. Despite sounding threatening, I sense a chill of exhilaration all over my body.”
Her message, although long, intrigued me and left me stumped. I didn’t know how to reply, let alone top what she had just told me. I sat there in awe of what I had just experienced, and all I could think of was how I wanted more. How I was starting to desire Danni. That need washing all over me like a wave, wishing I could get a few minutes with her in the flesh.
Peel off your light, I have no interest in it. Tell me everything about your darkness as described by it. Her voice echoed through the walls of my mind once more. It had been two years now since I last spoke to Danielle. I had found out after some extensive research that her funeral was going to take place in two days, and I was nervous as hell to make an appearance. It seemed odd to me since they never really found her body. Would people just pay their respects to an empty casket? Would her family show up? And if they did, what would they say, would they even care? I wasn’t sure—the only thing I was definitely sure about though was that I wanted to pay my respects. Even if only the idea of her being there remained within the casket.
Danni was like the Bonnie to my Clyde—sure I had only known her for a year, but to me it was like I had known her all my life. We had met in a chat room back in 2014 one really depressing night after I came home from work. I was lonesome, angry, and for the most part, bored, so I jumped on the computer and swam in the notorious wave that is the internet. After some tosses and turns I stumbled upon a strange but attractive website called yourdarkfantasies.com where everything operated inside chat rooms and you got partnered up randomly. After a couple of failed attempts to “Connect with your Dark,” as the website put it, I came across partialtoknives89 and the conversation starter she opened up with was “What do you consider a dark fucked up fantasy?” It was at this very moment that I knew this was the type of person I didn’t need to hold back from. I could easily just give in, open up about every dark corner in my mind and somehow, I knew she’d be okay with it.
So I stared at the message and waited for a few seconds. I was trying to figure out how to put the words into a sentence—instead, I said fuck it and typed away. My message read, “I've always imagined wild, animalistic angry sex. I guess it was one of those dark fantasies where I envisioned it happening inside an obscure, broody room, with me in chains. No windows, no light. It would start with her coming up behind me, then suddenly feeling her scratching my back with her nails, hard. Shivers crawling down my spine, the anticipation building up, the anger boiling. My hands being chained to the side, so as to me being unable to reach out and grab her. Not knowing what she will do next would be interesting, especially in the dark. The desperation would piggyback off the anticipation and being in a state of anger and frustration would only boil all that up even more. And you know what happens when you cage a beast. The beast will do anything to get loose. What's your fantasy?”
There was no response for a few minutes as she was typing away. It made me nervous as I thought she might not want to talk to me or perhaps my fantasy seemed lame. After a bit, she responded with “I can probably go with this: Him and I are yelling at each other about a past argument and all of a sudden it gets very heated. The yelling gets out of control so eventually I back-hand him. This catches him off-guard, so he stops talking and stares at me. His silence prompts me to punch him square in the nose. After feeling for blood coming out of his nose he rushes towards me and shoves me against the wall. I can feel his hot breath against my neck. He firmly asks me to beg for his forgiveness and a short sorry escapes my lips. He slowly paces back a bit and we’re eye to eye. He pulls on my hair downward and starts kissing me, hard, violently. His blood touches my face. All of a sudden he grabs me and carries me to the bedroom. He throws me on the bed and pounces on top of me, whispering stay put and reaches for the first drawer on the nightstand next to the bed. He pulls out a pair of handcuffs, flips me over and proceeds to chain my hands to the headboard. While on top of me he starts slipping off my pants and underwear. He lifts my hips and I can feel the anticipation and fear rush over my whole body. He starts spanking me and as I try not to cry out, it infuriates him more and so he proceeds to spank harder. I let a whimper escape my lips and he stops frantically. His lips reach my ear quickly and I hear him whisper don’t move a muscle and jumping off the bed I hear his zipper come undone. He is now fully undressed and pulls out a knife out from the second drawer on the nightstand. I can feel the tip of the cold blade slowly caressing my cheeks, then up my back, and I hear my top rip as he violently cuts it and tears it from me. The same thing happens to my bra and he tosses the pieces aside to the ground. I can feel his package against me, and as he continues to play with his knife softly down my back, I can feel him enter me. He reminds me that if I make a noise I get a spank and that if I get louder I get to feel the blade against my back. This goes on and he finally finishes inside me. He lets out a sign of relief and collects himself, moving off the bed towards the nightstand, drops the knife in the second drawer and then reaches for the cuffs. He releases me and turns me around, pulling me into his arms as he sits against the headboard of the bed. We’re in a seated position and he starts brushing the tears from my face. I start telling him that I am sorry, to please forgive me—we end up spooning on the bed as he softly strokes my skin. After a while he warns me that next time it will be worse if I ever lay a hand on him. Despite sounding threatening, I sense a chill of exhilaration all over my body.”
Her message, although long, intrigued me and left me stumped. I didn’t know how to reply, let alone top what she had just told me. I sat there in awe of what I had just experienced, and all I could think of was how I wanted more. How I was starting to desire Danni. That need washing all over me like a wave, wishing I could get a few minutes with her in the flesh.