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The beautiful game - Part 2 - Remastered 03
🕑 Added 2021-07-21 19:39:04 +0000 UTCChapter 3 - An unexpected admirer
A little sore over the next few days, Milos tried to stay positive as he counted down the days until his next escape attempt.
The first few days were fairly typical, awful but typical, that is until Monday evening when halfway through his shift something unusual happened.
Having spent the last hour listening to some old businessman complain about his job and his wife as had he faked interest and tried to avoid the man’s wandering hands from pawing over his exposed skin, Milos looked up to see Marko walking over.
“Get lost”, he announced with a click of his finger as the man quickly scuttled away.
Sitting down, Marko scooted himself across the sofa to the point where their legs touched, giving Milos a sickly feeling in his gut.
“How is my little doll tonight”? Marko said patting Milos on his nylon clad thigh. Knowing what was expected of him at this point, Milos turned to look him in the eyes and smiled, “I’m great. How are you, Marko”?
“Oh, you know same old”, Marko replied tilting his head to one side, “listen, I’ve been thinking lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps I’ve been a bit harsh on you, my sister seems to like you a lot, and perhaps I’ve been taking my problems with Dejan out on you”.
Milos didn’t say a word, he just looked on with confusion, trying to work out where the conversation was leading.
Marko smiled, lifting his hand from Milos’ thigh to place it on his shoulder, “I get it, you don’t trust me, if I were you, I wouldn’t either after the way I’ve treated you, but I will make it up to you, starting tonight, tonight you will join me up in the VIP section, where no one will touch you, you have my word”.
He then proceeded to stand before extending his hand for Milos to take, “come, let’s go”, he said in a soft-sounding voice.
Accepting his hand, Milos was helped to his high heeled feet and led across the room, wondering the whole time whether it was some kind of trick, but with little choice in the matter, he minced along next to his captor up to the restricted area of the club.
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An hour or so later, Milos was more confused than ever. For the last hour, he had sat next to Marko on a comfortable leather sofa as the normally cruel man chatted and joked like they were old friends. He was acting like a perfect gentleman, keeping his promise of keeping his hands to himself.
At around ten-thirty, Marko received a call and after a brief conversation, he turned to look at Milos, “I’m sorry, doll, but I have some business to attend to, we’re going to have to end our evening here”, he said before taking Milos’ smaller manicured hand in his own, lifting it to his lips and kissing him on the back of the hand.
“Do you want me to go back to work”? Milos asked, feeling slightly disappointed, a feeling that confused him.
“No, I will have Olga drive you home”, Marko replied with a nod, “you get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow”.
Marko then turned and walked away, leaving Milos alone on the sofa feeling completely baffled, “why is he being so nice to me”? He thought, “what does he want”?
(See image 3.1)
Talk about sending mixed messages, the next evening, Marko all but ignored him for the entire evening, barely looking in his direction or uttering a word. For Milos, this meant a return to his usual duties, entertaining strangers, droning on about their dreary lives as they fondled and caressed his feminized body.
The previous evening now seemed like a drug-induced dream, and as the evening wore on, Milos started to wonder whether he had actually hallucinated it, he was pretty high, but surely could he have really imagined the whole thing? It was a worrying thought but he decided not to dwell on it, after all, there were now only two days separating him from his long-awaited freedom, that was all that mattered.
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On Wednesday evening, just before he started his shift, Marko approached Milos once again to invite him up to the VIP section. This time they weren’t alone as Marko was hosting a table of guests but similarly to the last time, Milos was treated with dignity and respect as the other men around the table chatted, joked, and never once laid a hand on him.
Full of surprises, around 12.30, Marko offered to drive him home. This again seemed completely out of character but with the tempting offer to leave the club early, Milos eagerly accepted the offer.
A few minutes later, a man appeared with Milos’ warm fur coat, he handed it to Marko who proceeded to help Milos slip it on, his hands lingering just a little too long around Milos' slim waist, Making the feminised man feel very vulnerable in the presence of the much larger Marko.
With his arm around Marko for support, Milos minced out of the room and down the stairs to the main club floor. A little uneasy on his feet, the result of the night drinking hard liquor, he was led past a worse for wear looking Coach, who looked up with a worried look on his face. Milos flashed him a quick smile to let him know everything was alright and quickly looked down in shame. Before he knew it he was off the main floor and tottering down the back corridors of the club.
After a short walk, they turned a corner and arrived in front of a lift. Marko took out a key card to unlock the door before pressing the button for the third-floor parking lot.
After a short awkward journey, the doors opened with a ping. Stepping out gingerly, Milos paused to take in his surroundings, feeling the cool night air circle around his exposed midsection, and up the tiny skirt, moulded to his backside.
He was stood in the very place that he had been so close to reaching the previous week, and if all went well, the same place he would hopefully be standing the following evening, ready to leave this life of hell behind for good.
(See image 3.2)
Realising Marko had stopped to wait for him, Milos quickly tottered over, linked his arm through Marko’s elevated arm and apologised for spacing out.
Marko didn’t seem to care and instead started telling some story about the expensive car he was leading them towards. Milos didn’t hear a word as he was more focused on keeping his footing in his intoxicated state, carefully placing one numb foot in front of the other, trying desperately to keep his balance atop his sky-high pumps.
Just as they reached the car, Marko stopped and released his arm, “before we go let’s get a quick photo for the collection”, Marko announced.
Milos feeling relieved that it was only a photo he wanted, turned almost automatically, twisting his leg to show off his shoes, and stuck out his PVC covered backside, hearing the material creak from the pressure of his voluptuous behind stretching the tiny skirt to its limits.
“Wow, I love how your arse looks in that skirt my little doll, and those legs of yours are absolutely gorgeous”, Marko said, as he snapped a few photos on his phone, grinning away.
“You know, if I were you, I would have tried to escape by now, perhaps try to make it up here to the car park and steal a car”, Marko announced as he casually continued to take pictures.
A cold chill ran down Milos’ spine as his heart suddenly felt as though it was going to burst right out of his chest. Did Marko know about the plan to escape? Was this his way of telling him that he knew?
Milos struggled to think straight, but luckily before he could come up with some silly answer, Marko tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket and walked back over to join him.
“Of course, I’m glad you haven’t, I’m starting to like having you around”, he said giving the feminized man a little pat on the backside, “it would be a real shame if I had to dispose of you”, he added, running the fingers of his other hand through Milos’ silky soft hair before leaning in and kissing him full on the lips.
With his eyes wide in shock, Milos stood petrified like a statue as Marko attacked his inflated lips and invaded with his tongue.
When he finally pulled back, Milos wanted to punch him in the face and throw up all over the concrete floor but instead, he did neither, he just stood there wobbling, and grinning like an idiot.
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With his mind racing, almost as quickly as the outside city streets passed by, Milos barely said a word as Marko raced back towards Milos’ apartment. He couldn’t stop thinking about Marko’s cryptic warning, imagining all the terrible things he was capable of. Part of him wondered if Marko was really driving him home at all and if instead he was being driven out to the woods to be buried in some shallow grave.
“No, Marko might be a Masochistic sociopath, but he is too smart to actually kill me himself”, he thought hopefully, “If I was about to die, it would be one of his goons driving right now”, he told himself, trying to calm himself down.
Milos breathed a sigh of relief as the loud sports car pulled up outside his apartment building.
Turning off the engine, Marko turned to face him, “come on”, he said with a smile, “let me walk you up”.
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Nervous but in a way glad to avoid his usual trek up the nine flights of stairs in his painful 6-inch heels, Milos stood next to Marko in the lift as it made it slow ascent.
Entering the apartment, they barged in on a rather shocked looking Sonja on the sofa with her feet up watching TV. Ever the loyal servant, she leapt to her feet to welcome him, sending a box of cookies flying across the room, “oh, hi Marko, I didn’t expect to see you tonight, sorry about the mess, I’ll have Milena do a quick clean and fetch us some drinks, please come in”.
“Not tonight Sonja”, Marko barked shutting her down, “if you want the apartment cleaned, do it yourself, it's Milena I want to spend time with”.
A stunned Sonja nodded slowly, looking like a wounded puppy as she watched Marko lead Milos through the room and into the bedroom.
“So, this is your room”, Marko announced upon entering the room, “a bit small for my tastes, but I guess you have everything you need, right”?
Still not sure if Marko was being genuine, and still worried that this whole acting nice routine was some kind of test, Milos was careful with his answer. “yes, I’ve got everything I need, thank you”.
Nodding, Marko walked over to stand in front of a large floor to ceiling mirror on the far wall, one of many installed around the room, “come, here my doll, let’s take a picture together”, he said extending his arm.
Milos cautiously approached the smiling man who upon arrival wrapped his arms around his waist, spinning him around to face the mirror, “now that’s what I call a beautiful couple”, he said with a chuckle.
Suddenly realising he was expected to take the photo and trying to distract from the awkward position he now found himself in, Milos delved into the pocket of his soft fur coat, fished out his phone, and snapped a few pictures while Marko held him tightly from behind.
“You know, Milena, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, you really have blossomed into a gorgeous woman”, Marko said, running his hands down the feminised man's sides.
Tensing up, Milos felt a hand locate his buttocks before strong fingers started to gently trace along the crack of his bottom through his PVC skirt.
“Turn around and get down on your knees, doll face”, Marko suddenly announced, his tone suddenly sounding more forceful.
Milos hesitated, “what? My knees, why”?
“Do it”, Marko commanded, “I won’t ask again”.
Shaking like a leaf, Milos slowly turned around, bent down, and took up a position on his knees facing Marko.
Looking up with his bottom lip trembling, Milos dreading what was about to happen as he looked up at Marko with a pleading look.
“My shoelace has come undone, you wouldn’t mind fixing that for me would you, doll”, Marko announced, his smile growing wider.
Still shaking but mighty relieved, Milos reached out with his long-nailed fingers and fumbled around with the shoelaces, eventually tying them in something that resembled a knot. When done he continued to look down, staring at Marko's shiny leather shoes, too terrified to move. The next thing Marko said surprised him.
“Milena, I want you to be my girl from now on”, he announced after placing his index finger under Milos' chin and gently lifting his face to meet his gaze, “but I’m not going to force you, If you’re want to be my girl and experience all the perks that go with that life, it has to be your decision”.
“I… I…”, Milos stammered, unsure of what to say.
“It’s ok, take a day to think it over, doll, tomorrow is Thursday and I’m going to be out of town”, Marko replied, running his fingers gently through Milos’ hair, “I’ll be back on Friday; you can give me your answer them”, h added before extending his hand and helping Milos back to his tortured feet.
“Goodnight beautiful”, Marko said, giving Milos one last peck on his inflated lips, “I’ll see you in a few days”.
Left stood in the centre of his room, still shaking like a leaf, Milos turned to face the mirror. What the hell was going on? Was Marko being genuine? Could this nightmare get any worse? where some just some of the thoughts racing through his mind as he looked upon his half-naked reflection.
He had to admit, he did look kind of sexy, in a slutty bimbo sex doll kind of way, perhaps Marko really had fallen for him? The thought made him shudder, “No, don’t get distracted”, he told himself, “tomorrow night I’ll be out of this place for good, I need to stay focussed”.
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At 10.30 on the dot, the next evening, Milos was once again stood in the dingy club bathroom, ready for escape attempt number two.
Tonight, there would be no safety net, no fake illness to cover his tracks, it was make or break and he knew it. He had managed to chat briefly with Coach earlier in the evening, telling him about the events of the previous evening and what Marko had said. Coach reacted badly to the news and tried to call everything off, he knew Marko and expected a trap.
It took a lot of convincing, but Milos eventually persuaded him to go ahead with the plan, he knew the risks and was prepared to take them, not able to bear another moment living the miserable life that had been forced upon him.
Positioning the bin in front of the tiny window, he knew time was of the essence, Olga had probably already noticed him missing and would be in shortly to look for him.
landing heavily on the other side of the window, this time on his back, Milos scrambled to his feet and made a run for the stairwell. Quickly through the door, he started his ascent, cursing his luck for ending up in the same ankle-breaking boots as the previous week.
One step at a time he climbed the three flights of stairs before emerging out of breath in the car park above. A huge smile crossed his plump lips as he breathed in the cool night air before looking around as a feeling of dread washed over him.
Coach should have been there by now, but he was nowhere to be seen. Panicked and shivering from the cold night air, Milos realised he needed somewhere to hide, hoping Coach was going to come through for him.
Seeing a spot that looked promising, he set off across the deserted parking lot, dreaming about the first thing he would do, when he was free.
With the sound of his beating heart and the loud clicking sound of his uncomfortable boots pounding in his ears, across the eerily quiet room he went, until suddenly an unwanted terrifying noise stopped him in his tracks.
The lift to the parking lot pinging loudly behind him announcing the arrival of someone. A feeling of utter devastation washed over Milos as he turned, knowing he had nowhere to run. He watched in slow motion as the doors to the lift opened, a small part of him hoping to see Coach emerge.
“Miss, Ivanovic, I think you had better come with me”, Olga announced loudly, crossing her arms across her impressive chest below a cold emotionless face.
Scared to death, Milos turned made a run for it, stumbling in blind panic across the concrete floor, like a baby deer on a frozen lake. He knew it was futile, but he had to try and get away, that is until he was stopped once more by Bojana stepping around the corner and blocking his path.
“Oh, Milena, I’m so disappointed with you, I thought we were friends, but now you’ve gone and ruined it”, she said, placing a hand on her hip and shaking her head in a disapproving way.
“Please, Bojana, I am your friend, please just let me go”, Milos pleaded falling to his knees.
“Sorry Milena, that’s not going to be possible, besides how are you planning on leaving without that drunkard friend of yours”?
“Coach, where is he? Is he ok”? Milos cried.
“That bumbling fool, broke into Marko’s office and made so much noise half the club heard him, he’s being held downstairs”, she said shaking her head, “now, you need to come with us, Marko isn’t going to be pleased when he gets back”.
Defeated, Milos allowed Olga to take a hold of his arm and lead him back towards the lift which took him back down to the club where he was dragged into a store cupboard and locked inside.
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Cold, hungry, and about to have a nervous breakdown, Milos pounded on the door and begging to be let out but no matter how much noise he made, no one came to his rescue.
“What had he ever done to deserve this”? He thought as he slammed his sore fists into the solid wooden door, sure, he had broken a few rules while playing football for a woman’s team, but did he really deserve to live out the rest of his days as Marko’s bimbo doll plaything, that was provided he wasn’t about to be murdered.
After hours of pounding on the door in vain, his hands now red and bruised, and his voice hoarse from screaming, Milos gave up hope. The last remnants of a fight had finally left his exhausted body as he slumped to the floor resigning himself to the depression fact that Marko had won.
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With the sun peeking through the small slit of a window above him, Milos shivered, it had been a long miserable night, huddled amongst the brushes, mops, and various other cleaning products to try and stay warm.
When the door finally opened to reveal Olga standing over him, Milos began to shake, he had been screaming all night for someone to let him out but now that it was time to meet his fate, he no longer wanted to leave.
The tall intimidating Olga reached in and handed him a bottle of water, which he snatched from her grasp and quickly gulped down to parch his dry throat.
“Mr Mitic, will see you now, put your boots back on and follow me”, Olga said in her deep monotone voice.
Locating his discarded boots, which wasn’t difficult in the tiny room, Milos slid them up his freezing fishnet covered legs before hauling himself up onto his wobbly legs.
“Come”, Olga ordered, turning to leave, and expecting Milos to follow.
The first stop was the bathroom where Milos was allowed to empty his bladder before being given a makeup bag and told to fix his face.
In an almost robotic manner, Milos cleaned away the smeared and ruined makeup from his expressionless face before, applying the familiar beauty products until Olga was satisfied. “Much better, now you’re ready to see Mr Mitic”, she announced with a nod.
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Outside Marko’s office, Olga gave the door a heavy thump, before waiting for Marko's deep voice to call out, allowing them to enter.
Olga pushed open the heavy door before looking at Milos who was stood rooted to the spot like a statue. Giving him a heavy shove, Milos staggered into the room before falling to his knees. Looking up his mouth fell open seeing Marko sat on the far side of the room with a psychotic look on his face. scared for his life, Milos quickly backed up only to be halted by a wall to his back.
(See image 3.3)
“Thank you, Olga, leave us now”, he boomed.
“Of course, sir”, she replied with a nod, before leaving them alone in the room.
“Milena, Milena, my little doll, what am I to do with you”? Marko announced, shaking his head in an over-exaggerated way, “I gave you a second chance after you tried to run away the first time, was my warning in the car park not clear enough”?
Milos looked up, “So, you did know”?
Marko smiled, “of course I knew, this is my club, I know everything that goes on in here”.
“And you were going to just forgive me and forget all about it”? Milos said trembling.
Marko paused, picked up a glass from the table to his right, “what I said to you the other night was true”, he said before taking a sip of his Vodka, “you’re very attractive, and I had become quite fond of you over the last few months”.
“Why are you speaking in the past tense”? Milos blurted out.
Marko ignoring the question continued, “you could have lived a life of luxury by my side and even saved your precious Dejan to boot”, he announced taking another sip from his glass, “but instead you took the predictable and foolish option, I do hate it when I’m proven right sometimes”.
“Coach, where is he? What have you done to him”? Milos stated loudly as a tear ran down his cheek.
“If I were you, doll, I’d be more concerned with my own wellbeing right now, forget about Dejan, you will never see him again, he is gone”, Marko said bluntly, staring Milos down.
Milos started to sob, but having cried all night, he didn’t seem to have any tears left, “What are you going to do with me? If you're going to kill me, just get it over with, I don't care anymore”? Milos screamed out.
Marko narrowed his eyes, “kill you!”, he replied in a menacing tone, “what do you think I am, a monster? No, I have a much more appropriate punishment in mind for you, and who knows, if you’re a good girl, perhaps in time I might even forgive you”.
(See image 3.4)
