Ok, here's Chapter 1 of this story. Hope you like it so far.
Chapter 1
“Oh, my, GOD!” Christine Dominaux sits on her pink satin sheeted bed talking to her best friend Nicole on her brand new Samsung Galaxy S6 phone. Her phenomenally girly room, decorated in pink wallpaper and furnished with expensive furniture, opened up into a massive walk-in closet filled with the finest, most expensive designer clothes. The bright summer’s day light fills the room.
Wearing her favourite £720 Versace silk top and her brand new blue £120 Diesel jeans she stares at her feet, wearing the only thing she’d actually worked hard for, her actually rather cheap but oh so precious, £50 pristine white Converse low tops.
“I know!” she said on the phone. “I swear, I’ve never felt so proud in my life. I mean, they’re GORGEOUS. Pristine white. £50 cloth and rubber Converse. Ugh. I don’t even want to wear them out, they’re so perfect.”
She listens in to Nicole over the phone.
“Nicky, my dad has never had a better idea. I was all sceptical at first, I mean, I just get everything, why should I have to work, but he said, it’ll feel ten thousand times better if I worked hard to get them and I OH SO wanted them. Now I feel SOOO good.”
She gets off the bed, and walks over to the window. Looking outside she looks at an anomaly, a cream coloured van, sitting parked amongst the rows of Bentleys and Jaguars. Raising her eyebrows, she opens the blind and squints to see who’s inside. The blacked out windows make it impossible. She squints. Probably a repair guy coming to fix Miss Garamont’s busted TV, she thought and shrugs, going back to listening to Nicole.
She’s gushing over her brand new Louboutins and her “gorgeous” new Hermes Birkin and Chanel handbags.
“Yeah” Christine replies. “I swear, shoes and bags are LIFE. Like, I’ve actually taken a personal vow never to ruin anything I own, clothing-wise as long as I live. There is no way on earth I’m going to watch a beautiful Versace or a stunningly perfect pair of Converses get even a speck of dirt on them, let alone a Louboutin or god forbid a Chanel or a Hermes. And could you imagine having to watch your 100 thousand pound sable fur get ruined? Oh, it makes me die just thinking about it. You CANNOT ruin clothes, especially not designer and expensive ones. Primark jeans, yeah that’s fine, but no way can you ruin beautiful expensive designer Diesels or gorgeous Miss Sixty leathers.”
She sits down absentmindedly on her bed again, kicking her shoe covered feet in the air, staring lazily at the beautiful white Converse sneakers on her feet. Her left hand played with her silky long brunette hair. She was beautiful in every single way the word means. Perfection is a word that often got used to describe her, not to her face, not that it would be an insult, but amongst the myriad of her different fans, followers and admirers. Even if she was, only 19 years of age.
In fact, Nathan Blake was one such admirer and defiantly a follower. Albeit, one with a rather different interest in her. Granted he was struck by her beauty, but what attracted him more about her, was her sense of impeccable style. Although given many clothes and spoiled by her mother, she was given a more stricter and common upbringing by her father, which made her not only a relatively nice and down to earth girl in many respects, (most of the time, when she got something really nice however she tended to act a lot like a spoilt brat, but the episodes usually didn’t last longer than a few days) as opposed to other rich girls, but also his classmate at Brookland College in outer London. Whilst not a school for druggies and the lowest of the working class, it also wasn’t an Oxford and it reached out to middle class children as well, giving them a upper class level education.
Now, Christine didn’t know it, but Nathan had taken advantage of her parent’s recent departure to Washington, on business and also the fact that she had generously opened up her house to a birthday party just a few months before and was quietly walking up the stairs. He’d had this plan in his head for months. Ever since she’d gotten a brand new Gucci coat, she’d been rather prissy and being her nearest seatmate at college, she’d taken it out on him. If only for a few days.
Nathan had pretty much gotten sick of her taunts about her precious new clothing and how expensive it was and how fine it was and had decided to teach her a lesson. The fact that she had apologised, numerous times, and in fact, once on the phone this very day, didn’t register with him. He had one thing on his mind now: revenge.
Back in her room Christine was going through an inventory of the latest nice clothes she’d got. “So, I’ve got an Armani dress, £1,395’s worth of blue silk. I’ve got these four gorgeous pairs of Loubs to match yours. Two boots and two pumps. I’ve got some nice sling backs which my mum got from Manolos. Oh and I’ve got these three, brand new, gorgeous wool and silk suits. Those are from D&G. Oh, god. I love those suits. Totally perfect.”
She nods as she listens to something Nicole said
“Oh god. Yeah, Diesel jeans are, TOO DIE FOR. Ugh. I’m wearing my new pair right now….. 120 quid. Yeah. Fucking gorgeous. So beautiful. Ugh. They’re like my best pair of jeans right now. Absolutely perfect.”
She sits back down on her bed, swinging her legs absentmindedly, looking at her precious new pristine Converse.
“Uh huh. Yeah. My mums new coat is like, totally beautiful so yeah, I get what you mean. Donna Koran is perf.”
She jumps to her feet, excitedly.
“Wait, what? You’re hear already?” She laughs. “I wondered why I could hear cars outside. Hold on. I’ll come to the door.”
Nathan, whilst she was talking had listened by the door for a second, then gone into her bathroom across the hall. He’d taken advantage of a generous party thrown by Miss Dominaux and cloned a key he’d found. From then, it was easy. She’d regularly been talking about her parent’s going to Washington for a week and knew now was the time to strike. Using the cloned key, he’d let himself in and crept up to spy on her. Now was the time to put phase two into action.
Christine ran out of the room, slipping off her precious new Converse as she went and slipping her mobile into the back pocket of her beautiful multi blue £120 Diesel jeans. The moment he heard her reach the bottom landing, Nathan ran into Christine’s room, picking up her beloved shoes and then into her closet.
He shut the door and stared at her gorgeous new sneakers. Pristine white, they gleamed brightly in the light. Then, he looked around, and nearly fainted.
The closet was a clothes fetishist’s dream, and he was a clothes fetishist no doubt about it.
All over the walls, beautiful, fine, expensive designer clothing hung, stood or perched.
Fendi, Max Mara, Manolo, Louis Vitton, Karl Lagerfield.
She had L.K Bennet shoes next to beautiful leather and satin Jimmy Choo’s. She had Hermes scarves, hundreds of them, vintage silk and soft new, all hung perfectly, almost dripping in beauty.
Carolina Herrera suits, Chanels, Armani’s Givenchy’s hung together, a collection of the finest suits known to womenkind.
The room was massive, more like a long corridor dedicated to the most perfect, pristine and precious of clothes a woman could wear rather than a closet.
From Diesel jeans (a lot) to D&G’s, Longchamp handbags and Alexander McQueen clutches with a few dozen Hermes Birkin’s thrown in and in drawers, row upon row of beautiful fine silk, lace and satin Victoria Secret panties and bras.
For coats, she could choose from Burberry trenches, Roberto Cavalli wools, Gucci’s, sable, mink, fox, lynx, chinchilla, seal, racoon and rabbit furs.
For shoes she had a huge range. From relatively cheap, for her, Nikes, Addidas and Asics her collection jumped into Bally’s, Gucci’s, Steve Maddens, Stuart Weitzmans, Zanottis.
Quite simply, if it was designer, he realised, she had it.
But, as he looked around the gigantic closet, his eyes fixated on one thing. The back wall.
On that wall stood the crème de la crème of women’s footwear. The piece de résistance, the overture, the masterpiece.
On the back wall, were her most perfect and most beloved items of clothing.
On the back wall were the only things she’d actually die to protect.
And she wasn’t here to protect them now.
On the back wall, stood something that Nathan would remember for the rest of his life, something seared into his brain, something that would never fade.
On the back wall stood the most beautiful things Nathan had ever seen and would ever see in his life.
On. The. Back. Wall.
Were Christine Dominaux’s perfect, luxurious, quality, pristine, beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, extraordinarily expensive, utterly divine, absolutely mind-blowing, positively orgasm inducing finest items of clothing in the history of mankind.
On the back wall, were her beautiful and massive collection of Christian Louboutin shoes.
Nathan probably died and went to heaven at that point and was positively shocked that he hadn’t had the orgasm of his life.
Row upon row, column upon column. Her thousand pound shoes were everywhere.
Pumps, clogs, mules, platforms, open toe, slides, sneakers, slingbacks and of course, boots.
Thousand and thousands of pounds worth of high quality leather stood, beckoning him. He complied. Then stopped himself.
He shook his head.
He had a job to do, and right now, all she wanted to talk about were the pair of stunningly beautiful £50 gleaming white Converses in his hand.
If those were the shoes she loved the most right now, then those were the way he would get his ultimate revenge.
The Loubs could wait. For now.
Christine and Nicole walked up the stairs and entered the room. Nicole was wearing her pristine new Louboutin boots, her £80 dark blue soft as silk, nylon Superdry jacket that she absolutely loved, her one of a kind, Gucci silk blouse and her precious designer Diesel jeans in red.
The two talked as they walked.
“I cannot WAIT to see your new Birkin. And you are SO right. I need some Coach slippers. I cannot believe I hadn’t thought of getting some before but yours are just incredible.”
Nicole smiled heavenly.
“I KNOW right! They are totally, like my new favourite sneakers. But nothing, NOTHING replaces my boots. Oh, Louboutins. £1240 Louboutins. I goddamned LOVE these GORGEOUS boots. Ugh. So fucking beautiful.”
She sits down on the bed and rubs her hands down the pristine soft genuine kidskin leather, smiling as she does.
Christine frowns and looks around the room for a second.
“Nicole. Have you seen my Converse?”
Nicole shakes her head and looks up.
“No, why?”
“I could have sworn I’d left them outside my bedroom.”
Nicole looks around the room.
“Are you sure you didn’t leave them in your closet?”
Christine shakes her head.
“Nope. I love those shoes. Massively. Completely. There’s no way on planet earth I’m leaving my brand new beautiful pristine brilliant white Converse anywhere unless I know exactly where they are. You think I’d risk one spec of dust on those gorgeous shoes?”
Nicole shrugs.
“I can’t see them. Just check the closet. See if you left them in there. Anyway, it’s a house. You can’t lose stuff in a house. You’ll find them eventually.”
She puts her Hermes Birkin handbag down and stands up the suitcase she’s been carrying.
Christine gets up and goes over to the closet.
Through the walls of the closet, Nathan hears her. Now’s his chance. He didn’t exactly want anyone else to hear him and what he’s about to do, but Nicole could be a right bitch sometimes, so if anyone deserved to be a part of this as well, it was her in his eyes.
He quickly swept over to the light switch and switched it off. He wanted the real element of surprise.
He looked down at the Converse low tops in his hand and quickly took a sniff. They smelled of pristine brand new cloth and rubber with a hint of her gorgeous flowery foot smell.
He got harder.
Christine opened the door and flipped the light on, she looked at her shoe rack on the left.
Then she looked to her right.
And screamed.
“Aaaaaaaaahhhh. WHAT THE FUCK!!!!”
Nathan pushed her out of the closet and onto her arse on the carpeted floor.
“NATHAN? THE FUCK??? WHAT THE HELL??”
Nicole’s mouth dropped in shock.
“Nathan, what in gods name are you doing? What the fuck were you doing in my closet?”
Nathan had his hands behind his back. She couldn’t see the Converse in his hands.
Christine looked confused for a second. Then a speck of realisation kicked in and her eyes widened, then narrowed.
He’d told her about his fetish for clothes, especially designer, expensive clothes, one drunken night when her and their group had gone camping. He’d whispered it in her ear and thought she’d forgotten. She hadn’t.
Now she was angry.
“Nathan fucking Blake. I swear on my life, if you’ve gotten one speck of dirt on my BEAUTIFUL fucking clothes I will fucking ruin you. I’ve got thousand pound dresses in that closet. Sable fucking coats. GORGEOUS FUCKING LOUBOUTINS and my absolutely wonderful thousand pound Gucci coat. You have NOT got anything on my fucking clothes because they are worth a fucking FORTUNE and I swear to god I fucking love my designer clothes. I will destroy you if one hair is out of place in there.”
She got up to check her clothes but stopped short instantly.
She gulped. Shocked.
“Oh GOD.”
Nicole’s voice rang out.
Nathan had brought his hands out from behind his back and in them were a gleaming white, pristine pair of brand new Converse.
“Nathan. No. Look, I know what you want to do, but I beg of you, please don’t do this. Those are my utmost best and most prized possesseions. I worked so hard to buy those and they are SO gorgous. £50 worth of pristine cloth and rubber. God, I actually get hot just by looking at them. They are the most beautiful pairs of sneakers I will ever wear and I beg of you. I BEG of you not to do what I think you’re going to do. Just please. Not those. Anything but those.”
Christine’s voice had gone from loud and angry, to soft and pleading.
Nathan snorted. “Christine. You are a spoilt bitch. I am quite simply sick and tired of hearing about Gucci coat this and Louboutin that. I don’t care if you’re rich but you do. And, there you go again. You only think about yourself and your precious clothes so now, I’m going to teach you a lesson.”
He pulls his mobile phone out from his pocket.
“On this, I have a collection of very interesting and very explicit pictures of you and that oh so perfect body of yours. Now, I want you to comply with everything I say, or some of your admirers might get something a little more juicy to admire. Do you understand me?”
Christine’s eyes narrowed further but she nodded. Reluctantly.
“Nicole that goes for you too. I’m guess you don’t want to be responsible for the leaking of your best friends nudes onto the internet.”
Nicole shakes her head.
Nathan smiles and looks at the two cowering girls.
“Good. Ok. Now, where were we?”
He ponders something for a second then grins.
“Christine, come here please.”
Christine walks over. Her eyes fixed on her new shoes.
“Stop. Okay. I’m guessing you LOVE these shoes. Am I right?”
Christine nods.
“So, I’m guessing it’d kill you, if anything…. Bad happened to them right?”
Her eyes narrow.
“I SWEAR, DON’T YOU-“
He cuts her off with a wave of his hand.
“I didn’t give you permission to speak.”
Christine opened her mouth to say something again, but stops.
She nods.
“Good. Now, sit. You can lean on the back of your bed if you would so like.”
She does so.
Nathan, pulls some of her high quality silk scarves from his back pocket. He pulls down his pants, steps out of them, then pulls down his underwear.
His 9 inch, fully erect cock stand loud and proud.
Christine and Nicole’s eyes widen. They’d never realised his cock was so big.
He smirks and looks at Christine.
“How much were these scarves?”
“3 thousand pounds, collectively, give or take. Why? What are you going to do them?”
Then she had a horrible thought and her face turned white.
“Oh my god. No. No. Oh my god. NO. No, those cost over 3 thousand pounds. Are you insane? Do you know what cum will do to silk? Oh my god no. UGH. Oh, my, GOD. I just got them. They’re my best ones. NO.”
He cuts her off.
“Relax. I’m only going to tie you up with them. Though that’ll probably hurt your precious silk scarves as well, but anyway.”
Christine’s eyes widened.
“You wouldn’t dare. That’s’ silk.”
H reached out and pushed her against the bed. His leaking cock pushing up against her beautiful breasts through her designer silk Versace. It stained the precious pristine silk.
“Oooh, Oh god. My shirt. My FUCKING VERSACE SHIRT. You’ve ruined it. No! Fuck oh my god. My shirt, it’s fucking RUINED. It’s fucking silk. That’s VERCASE SILK. You’ve just fucked my beautiful expensive new SILK FUCKING SHIRT. Do you have ANY idea what that cost? Fucking 700 FUCKING POUNDS. It’s fucking ruined. Completely fucking ruined.”
She stared at him, nearly weeping as he took her designer Hermes’ and tied her up.
“Oh god. No. That’s four hundred pounds worth of silk. Oh my god. My shirt. My 700 pound shirt. My beautiful new scarves. Oh. God. Hermes silk. Ruined. Completely fucking ruined. Oh. OH. I can’t do this. I can’t believe my beautiful expensive silk is being ruined. Oh GOD.”
He finished tying her up and she sat there. Crying. Nicole sat there in shock. Watching this.
Christine sobs.
“Fuck YOU. FUCK!!! MY FUCKING SHIRT. MY BEAUTIFUL FUCKING SILK VERSACE SHIRT. MOTHERFUCKER. RUINED. FUCKING RUINED.”
Nathan slapped her across the face.
“Shut up. Watch.”
She complied. Then nearly died as he did something she couldn’t believe.
He put her perfect new pristine white £50 Converses cm away from his cock.
“No. No. Nathan no. Oh god. No. No. I just bought those. Please. They’re Converse. You’ll ruin them.”
Nicole tried to lunge for them but he pulled them away.
“Nope. This. Is your revenge.”
He put them cm away from his cock and started to lift them up and down, up and down, getting closer and closer. Each time Christine would be for him to stop.
“Nathan NO. OH GOD. NO. MY BEAUTIFUL NEW SHOES. Fuck. PLEASE. STOP. God. You’l ruin them. They’re fucking 50 quid’s worth of Converse rubber and cloth, the fucking cum’ll ruin the fucking shoes. PLEASE. Stop.”
He didn’t stop.
He inched closer and closer.
“No.”
Closer and closer.
“My shoes.”
Closer and closer”
“God, the sidewall. The laces. The fucking pristine rubber. OH GOD. MY SHOES. MY BEAUTIFUL NEW SNEAKERS. PLEASE. NO. MY BEST PAIR OF SNEAKERS. MY GORGEOUS NEW OPTICAL WHITES. FUCKING HELL. OH GOD. NO. NOT MY BEAUTIFUL BRAND NEW CONVERSE. I WORKED FOR MONTHS FOR THOSE.”
He wouldn’t listen.
He got closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Then stopped.
“You’re right. They’re way to beautiful for me to ruin.”
Christine stared at him, stunned for a second. Then breathes a sigh of relief.
“Oh Thank god. Ok. Now please. They’re my babies. Please, just don’t hurt them, just give them to me and I’ll forgive you for my. Oooh. My beautiful silk shirt. Oh god. It’s my favourite Versace. Oh god. I can’t believe this. Oh god. Okay. Just please give me my beautiful new converse and I’ll forgive you for my, ruined Versace silk shirt and my… 3,000 pound Hermes silk scarves which are my best ones. Just, give me my shoes. I love these shoes.”
Nathan looked at her. He cocks his head.
“Okay.”
He drops the shoes on the floor next to her.
Everyone waits for a second.
“Well, untie me.”
Nathan shakes his head.
“I said, they’re far to beautiful for ME to ruin. I never said anything about them not being ruined.”
Christine stares at him. What he’s contemplating won’t even compute in her brain.
Then it clicks.
She starts to shake her head.
“No.”
“NO. Oh god. Don’t you dare. I won’t. I’m not ruining my best pair of shoes. OH MY GOD. NO FUCKING WAY.”
Quick as a flash Nathan pulls out his phone, he unlocks it and it’s already on the page of her naked body. Except it’s not just of her naked body, but of her sucking on a cock.
Her father’s to be precise.
Nicole is speechless.
Christine shuts up.
“Oh, what? I didn’t mention that? Yeah. You’ve been a pretty naughty girl haven’t you? Sucking on daddy’s little cock. That’s not good is it?”
“Where did you get that?” Christine starts sobbing again.
“It doesn’t matter where I got it from. You, are going to do as I say or this baby is going around the internet. And once something’s on the internet it doesn’t ever go away.”
“Look, I’ll do whatever you want, but please not that. Anything but that. These are my brand new Converse. I spent TWO MONTHS working to buy these and they’re precious, pristine and brand new. Anything else. I don’t care. My new Manolos. God, my silk Gucci dress. Fuck. Even my finest Armani suit. Fucking ruin one of those, but not my Converse. They’re the only thing I’ve worked for and they’re BEAUTIFUL OPTICAL WHITE CHUCKS. OPTICAL FUCKING WHITE. WOMEN DIE FOR THOSE YOU KNOW.”
“Ok. I’ll just send those pictures then.”
Christine shakes her head as Nathan prepares to upload them onto the internet.
Nicole shakes her head at her.
“God Christy. You can’t do this. Not the Converse. Anything else yes, but CONVERSE? Can you imagine? The beautiful white cloth grey with your cum? The expensive soft rubber slick with your juices? I’d ruin my fucking gorgeous designer Loubs before I hurt any of my beloved Converses.”
Christine shakes her head.
“I’ve got to Nicky. I’ve got to.”
She looks at Nathan defiantly.
“What do I have to do?
