Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Winslow never really want to be left within his room and dreadfully alone. The constant fear that something terrible was going to happen to him again frequently lingered in his mind. Swan's onslaught had truly never ended since the man had been escorted in an ambulance away from the scene of the Paradise. Phoenix had been dragged away from Winslow at that moment when he could finally see her again and she could see him for who he truly was. The ball of madness he would rather like to call it as darkness had consumed him that night. His bitter mind find resolute in the idea that he'd finally get to feel the sweet touch of peace once more without Swan to disturb him. His soul had been sold and he no longer needed to worry about the reality of the situation. Swan would go to hell and he would find himself following.

That was originally the plan, but yet he remembered feeling the cold sensation of water caressing his skin as Swan's bodyguards loomed over him. The light of the Paradise so cruel and unkind to his only remaining eye. He despaired at that revelation because that meant he hadn't perished as he had planned to by ending Swan. He was face to face with the reality of his actions once more. Their faces were written with the features of rage as they yanked him up from the floor where he'd once been bleeding so freely. His weak fingers twitched at the urge to try and feel if his blood still spilled, but he found it all for naught. He was violently knocked to the floor by a fist with a great amount of force. It was hard enough that he felt the scrape of his own metal teeth against one another. The sensation of pain agonizing his body as he was yanked upright once more while the same fist came to knock him in the jaw once more. He felt himself biting down upon his tongue and drawing blood. The iron touch of his own blood that quickly drew down his lips and dribbled from his chin. It never really mattered if he bled anymore anyways. He'd survive even the deadliest of lacerations simply because of that cruel contract that Swan had tricked him into. It didn't stop him from drifting out of conscious as the fist came back to pummel his stomach. Bile that wanted to spill from his gut would not come out and his eye merely sluggishly shut itself until the light came to an end and darkness enveloped him once more. Perhaps, this was just the reckoning of violence before the long journey into death and hell.

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Winslow was never let out of his contract that easily.

He hated that he had woken up again once more, but not within the Paradise. He knew the Swanage well enough to realize that he was in a bedroom that Swan had likely used women in. He felt the pain of the previous night's events shock through him and he could only his gut as he felt vomit arise from his dry throat. The agony of having been beaten festering away within him had arisen. Bruises decorated his cheeks... and his body...?

It took Winslow a moment to break from his stomach curling to realize that there was something terribly wrong with the way he looked. He could see in the mirror that he'd been dress in more of a night robe than his leather suit. There was no mask to hide away his disfiguration and it caused a fright to ripple through his mind as he took his wild hair and attempt to mask his scarring. He only halted his frantic look when he noticed that he looked like nothing more than a feral rat trying its best to clean itself. His hair was a mess of tangles and fluff after having grown out for so long.

Winslow planted his hand to the mirror for the moment to look himself over and examine what madness had wrought for him. He saw the reflection of the man who had sold his soul to a Demon for the sole factor of love... or admiration. Phoenix.... His mind drifted the longer he stared at himself. He thought of Phoenix in all of her beauty weeping so desperately over his body and cradling him closely as he bled out. The crowd had swarmed Swan and left Winslow to finally obtain peace, but... There was no peace now was there?

By now, Phoenix had gone away and left with that damaged Rockstar... Beef. That man who he'd found in the hospital after the 'Accident' and threatened him once more. Beef had been utterly terrified then and nearly screamed his lungs out before Winslow silenced him. Winslow had made him make a promise to rescue Phoenix from Swan's clutches at the Opening of the Paradise, no matter. That Rockstar had managed to come through in the end for him... right? He'd gotten the phone number of the man's mother's house after he proclaimed that's where he'd been running off to to get away from this mess that Swan had made. He didn't want to be anymore apart of some Phantom's game at getting back at Swan and it showed.

It eased Winslow's despair when he remembered all of it at last, but it never eased the growing pain in his stomach. He had to run away to the bathroom adjacent to the bathroom and vomit, but found himself yanked back something around his wrist. He hadn't noticed it before, but... it was a chain attached to a metal wristband. The chilling touch finally registering upon his skin. His functioning eye widened even more and anxiety coursed through his veins as he realized that he was trapped. This wasn't like the bricks where he could force his way through, no. This was a metal connected to a bar on the wall that limited him the right to do anything without... Supervision.

"You look upset, Winslow. Are you surprised at the turn of events?" A smug voice called from an intercom present in the room. It was sickening to Winslow's ears, yet somehow polite and sweet. He hated it.

Winslow turned to the ceiling startled and examined for the moment before staring down the small camera in the corner of the room. The camera that would supervise everything he does. The camera that was enabling Swan to see what was happening within his room... It caused Winslow to cover himself even further with the bathrobe as though anything that showed was risque. He parted his lips to speak finally in outrage at the fact that he'd been restrained and what he could only assume, locked in a room, but there was no vocoder to voice his requests. He cried in a gurgle of fury, but his only response was a tut from Swan over the intercom.

"Now, now, Winslow. You shouldn't be behaving like this since I saved your life. All that effort and anger, and for what?" Swan spoke so calmly and kindly as though he weren't furious at Winslow. It was rather perturbing to the Phantom.

Winslow was slowly approaching the bed to sit down upon it and hold his head in his hands. He hated this. He hated sitting here within Swan's grasp. He didn't want to be captured and locked away just like the studio before. He didn't want any of this and yet he was forced to continue on merely for the soul of another and his contract. His stupid contract that he wished he could've just burned away forever.

"I've left you some things to help you recover, Winslow. You've become so violent and dispassionate that I had to do something about restraining you." His voice cooed so disgustingly that Winslow gagged openly to voice his displeasure.

He heard that laughter ring through the air once more and it caused Winslow to bang his fists down onto his knees in outrage. He hated this. He hated the way that Swan sounded so at ease when he had been nearly dead just last night! He wanted Swan to be furious. He wanted him to be afraid of him. He didn't want this to sound like some easy little situation that could be easily nipped in the bud. He gurgled his outrage once more and slammed his fist into a pillow while he turned to look at the camera again with his good eye.

"You see Winslow," Swan paused for the moment to light a cigar. He pressed it to his lips briefly for the sweet sensation of tobacco before returning to speaking. "You've really pressed your boundaries. I understand that you dislike me greatly but you tried to murder me more than once. That's just cruel. I've devised a plan for you though and I think you'll like it." He finished with amusement in wait of Winslow's reaction. Winslow was easy to fool and anything that promised something of the future? He was a sucker for.

And Winslow did bite for the idea of a Plan. A plan meant that Swan had something in store for him and he assumed it'd be the sweet release of the contract and his death. He nodded his head eagerly at Swan's words and awaited for what the man had in store.

"I want you to behave for me for as long as you can," He took another drag from the cigar before clearing his throat to speak once more. "And I want you to follow through with the clause in your contract. The one I referred to as a 'Transportation' clause. You remember it well enough, I'm sure. You're a smart young man after all. Winslow, you're going to do whatever I want when I want it. That's the plan."

Winslow's energy immediately shattered to pieces then and there at that revelation. He knew exactly what Swan was talking about at this very moment because he remembered the red flags it had raised the moment he saw it. He belonged to Swan in every sense of the word essence and now he was going to abuse it to its fullest. It felt so sickening to have that dumped onto him after he'd just thought he would be freed.

"Winslow... Your freedoms are restricted to assisting me in every way possible now, you realize? Your musical talent? It's mine. Your voice? Mine. Everything about you. It's mine. I've left you a kind gift on the nightstand however to prepare you for the future of tomorrow, you see. It begins from then on and so forth. Take the medication to settle the pain that ravages you and then rest. All will be OK in the morning." Swan's voice cooed once more into the microphone with such deep kindness that Winslow was seemingly mesmerized by it all.

Winslow looked to his nightstand after a moment and stared at the glass of water positioned there next to a set of pills. He would've casted them aside were it not for the fact he was being so openly observed by that little asshole. He picked them up from the nightstand and stared down them in agony of whether or not if he should truly take them. He had no real choice on the situation when he heard the intercom pipe back up with a 'Well?' He brought the pills to his mouth and stuffed them in before downing it with the water in the glass. He drank all the water away in his own thirsty need before he realized there was a small chuckle of approval. He heard the click of the intercom turning off and then the caressing touch of sleep in his mind.

Darkness was capturing his mind once more as he lay down upon the bed once more. He never heard the door of the room open up, but he could see the figure who came in with blurry vision for a brief moment. He found himself drifting into sleep as he parted his lips to gurgle in question as to who it was. He felt a hand gently caress the side of his cheek and in his weary and drugged mind he thought it was Phoenix once more. He found peace with that and shut his eyes with a small smile gracing his lips.

Swan was confused as to how it was that Winslow fell asleep smiling after being drugged like that. He counterpointed easily that Winslow was in fact drugged and delirious before he fell into the sweet grasp of sleep. How cute it was that Winslow felt the pressure of his situation weighing in on him enough that he listened to him so easily. His knuckles stroked his bruised features and right over his burned side of his face. His bad eye would not close for there was no eyelid to defend it anymore. The mere image of Winslow before him was like looking at a broken mirror on the floor, shards everywhere, but easier for Swan to put together in the way that he wanted.

Swan would make sure that Winslow followed a better tune than the one he had before. There was no more ruining him or the Paradise this time around.

Chapter Text

Winslow's next day was absurdly strange to say the least. He remembered that Swan had said he belonged ultimately him and passing out after taking medication that the man had prescribed him, but... Everything that came to be had passed him on so much. He couldn't truly remember ever being any coherent than he was currently. He couldn't have slept that long no matter how much he tried. The threat of something happening to him or his music again would have likely startled him from his rest as it had before, and yet...

His only faintest memory was being lifted from the bed the next day in a dreary attempt to keep himself stable after taking the medication. He could feel his own face being lightly pet as though someone tender had held him. He almost assumed it was Phoenix before he remembered the garbled image of Swan and his revolting little smile. He knew he had attempted to panic and get away, but his arms and legs had been so heavy he couldn't do anything about. He was being dragged away somewhere after Swan had removed his collar for the time being, but... his memory felt so warped about the occasion because he knew he had done something. He knew what it was and it chilled him to the very core, and yet...

'Winslow, you know what you must do for me, don't you?'

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His limbs felt dreadfully weary, but he was aware of what was currently going on. He may have felt sluggish from the medication, but perseverance demanded he manage himself while a large bodyguard carried him to the bathroom. Swan's snapping fingers had ushered the same man out the door with the order of staying close by. The door shut behind him and Winslow knew that he'd been sealed to some kind of fate already when Swan had gestured for him to undress from the robes he gripped so weakly.

"Winslow... You said you needed to use the bathroom, didn't you? You shouldn't be so scared and afraid of me when I'm merely keeping an eye out on what is mine." Swan's voice broke the silence of the bathroom with slight amusement twisted into his cool words.

Winslow did have to use the bathroom currently, but he didn't want to do it in front of Swan if he could help it. He didn't want to be so openly exposed to the man when he had openly ridiculed him before. There was no use to true resistance though when he was open entirely for Swan to observe. Nothing to obscure his disfiguration or his messy, wild hair. He despised this bitter feeling again when he realized he had no other choice but to follow Swan's words. Obedience was not one of his favorite things to have forced upon him, but here he was with the robes slipping from his body and displaying the pallid mess. The mess that Swan had left him in when he had stolen his cantata and ruined his life... ruined Phoenix's life.

Swan gestured to the toilet once more before merely turning his head away. He knew that there was no chance of Winslow preforming a daring escape when knew there was nothing but misery waiting for him out there if he tried. He had cornered him in this maze like the scared little rat he was and it excited Swan to know what he could ultimately do with someone who had been so daring before. The violence never left Winslow's gaze and it gave Swan the sensation of joy. He liked that Winslow could do nothing but glare at him so angrily.

Winslow had stared at the toilet water for a moment before shutting his eye and getting his business done with. The only sound that entered the room was the toilet flushing and then him reaching down to pick up the robe. He was interrupted immediately from his task with Swan's hand delicately grasping onto his wrist and withdrawing his hand from the robe. He shook his head at Winslow's action and merely gestured to the tub in the room instead to which Winslow looked at him with such a pleading gaze. It turned Swan's insides with disgust and amusement at Winslow's weakness and fear of being so weak.

"You know what you must do for me, Winslow. You must bathe for me as I won't have you being some mangy rat that stinks up and ruins my rooms." His voice still bore no sense of violence or sternness. Swan always managed to somehow carry the same infatuating tone that captivated Winslow's mind and made him retract from the idea of getting redressed. There was a sense that he had to obey what Swan had told him.

Winslow's feet came into contact with the tub's floor and he choose to sit down immediately. The porcelain was lavish and sweet to be within. The knobs were absolutely gold and it did not surprise him, but... he should've paid attention to the fact that Swan chose to have such luxurious designs within his 'guest' rooms. These rooms were just a reflection of his pride and greed though, Winslow reminded himself. He wasn't supposed to find any of this amazing when he was ultimately his prisoner, but shouldn't he be allowed to enjoy it just a bit?

He wanted to touch the knobs to have a touch of what it truly felt to be so lucky to afford this. He earned nothing of that though when a 'Tsk.' interrupted his process alongside a slap of his hand. It was nothing too painful, but it caused him to recoil in slight shock of what had just occurred. He wasn't even allowed to turn on the water of the bathtub by himself without Swan's permission. He hated that feeling of weakness that had begun to plague his psyche and cause anxiety to spread throughout his mind with haste. He could feel the hooks sinking in deeply and it made him realize that this was one of those rooms. The same rooms that those girls had been 'auditioning' in to impress Swan... The same one he'd seen Phoenix within when he went to check up on her. He wasn't just any foolish idiot who'd signed a contract with Swan and become his 'pet', he was a foolish idiot who'd signed up to be in certain situations.

He watched Swan's hand turn the knob and cause hot water to fall from the faucet. He'd already prepped and plugged the bathtub for this very occasion having expected to do this to Winslow. He had needed to shape him up just a bit to his new tasks and it certainly wouldn't hurt to guide the poor buffoon a tad. Swan merely smiled softly towards Winslow with a reassuring gaze seen behind his sunglasses.

Swan's look did nothing to dissuade the worries that had begun to flourish within his mind. He tried to openly yell at Swan once more as though he could do anything to the man that wasn't gargling or weakly moving his arms. His wet hand coming to press upon the fabric of his suit and causing a disgusted look to pass on Swan's features once more. His hand was tossed back off into the water once more before Swan unbuttoned his suit jacket and slipped it off. Winslow could do nothing but blink in confusion before coming to the conclusion that he had defiled Swan's jacket like the foolish man he was. Uncleanliness was bound to be one of Swan's peeves and he'd surely set it off by doing something so ludicrous.

The tub was full by now and the knobs had been turned so that no water flowed anymore. Winslow could only feel himself relaxing at last within the touch of the warm water, unable to realize that Swan had rolled back his sleeves to the point that no water would truly grace is dress shirt or vest. Winslow let out a pleased sound as best as he could before dipping down for the moment to wet his entire hair. He came back up and found Swan a tad bit close to the tub and sitting upon a stood. He was startled greatly by it and let out a gurgle to emphasize it before Swan's hand came to caress his cheek once more. He always seemed so attached to the marred side of Winslow's face that it confused the pianist greatly.

"Winslow... You know you're not here for the luxury, don't you? A fine young man such as yourself enabled to all of this after all he's done to me? I'm not so foolish to grant you that pleasure. You realize that all of this for you is to prepare you for what I have in store." Swan spoke in a tone that certainly emphasized the air of lust that had clouded the room. Swan's voice did no help with dissuading Winslow of doing anything with him when it seemed to constantly pull him in with how sweet it sounded. Swan just mesmerized him with the way he spoke so calmly.

Winslow attempted to swat his hand away in a weak manner however when Swan kept stroking at his face. Swan tsked once more at him and it easily got him to stop mid-reach to simply flop it back into the water. Winslow's good eye focused on Swan's form while he sat there just touching his face until he found it was enough and spoke up once more.

"It's enough to say that I want to fuck you, Winslow. There's something exhilarating about it that I'm never able to put you or it out of my mind. I've come to think that I might be attached to someone like you, but that's just a hilarious thought isn't it? Someone being good enough for me? Unheard of. I think it's just how much you invigorate me with everything you've done. It turns me on to have someone so dangerous close by. You're unpredictable and it's astonishing to the me who gets everything handed to me on such a fine schedule." Swan spoke with a hunger that Winslow could definitely read as seductive and desire all in one.

Winslow was just astonished at Swan's words that he hadn't heard the soft swish of the water as Swan's hand dipped within and stroked up his leg. He'd have jumped out of his skin at this moment were it not for the fact that he was mildly sedated for behavioral measures. He could feel Swan's fingers running along his thigh at this point and he gurgled his surprise at the fact was capable of doing this kind of thing with another man. Winslow could never admit to the fact that Phoenix was truly his first feminine love. Winslow had always considered him a man for the men, but she'd stirred something within his heart he could've never placed before. He couldn't explain something like this though. He couldn't even begin to fathom the idea of how Swan became so infatuated with this concept of his violent self that it aroused him. Winslow always assumed that Swan had found him a hideous sight who did nothing but cause disgust and distaste. Here he was however, with the reality of his infatuation coming down hard on him, and it caused his own mind to try to think up of as to how he felt about this. Everyone in their life had dreamed of being courted by Swan even if he was ever the ladies man. Winslow was no stranger to the concept, but after all that Swan had done to him? That idea had faded away so quickly.

"Winslow... You'll let me do this won't you? You sought me out before and pretended to be one of those bitches. Those insignificant women who desire my attention merely for their own satisfaction and pleasure. I promise you it'll be pleasurable as well." Swan cooed once more right beside Winslow's ear this time after he had leaned in. The tone of his voice had sent a thrilling sensation that ran all the way down to his cock. It caused Winslow to gurgle his own dissatisfaction at his reaction, but it didn't stop him from reluctantly looking over at Swan. He could see those eyes staring straight through him, and it caused him to nod his head at his request. He didn't really have any other choice when he had already signed the contract and given his body away.

Swan wasted no time in his advances after permission had been given, Winslow learned. Swan's hand that had been running along his thigh eagerly traverse to drawing fingers down along Winslow's flaccid cock. Winslow felt himself bite down upon his bottom lip immediately instinct as though he were a virgin again. Swan's hand was no different from those who had touched him before, and yet with him there was another sensation involved in everything else. His fingers wrapping around his cock and giving the slightest tug had pleasure flourishing in his mind unconsciously and his mind was confused to say the least.

Swan was enjoying the fact that Winslow responded to him so easily and melted into his touch without another display of protest. It was evident that Winslow too, susceptible to the charm of a demon like himself. He enjoyed how tormented emotionally Winslow looked on his face as he begun to experience such intense pleasure because Swan willed it so. His cock was growing eagerly erect within his hand the more he stroked it. There was no more leisure to Swan's strokes as he begun to hasten it with fervor to elicit sound from Winslow to which the other finally gave out. His gurgling voice coming through as his lips parted so sweetly for Swan to behold. He was enjoying every lovely second of it seemed even if he'd likely feared the situation coming to fruition. His hips stuttering weakly in the water from the slight twisting Swan gave on his cock. He displayed expertise in what he was doing and Winslow was already becoming putty in his hands. He could see and feel how the male was collapsing to pieces from merely giving him a handjob. There was nothing else so simple and yet Winslow was a panting and gurgling mess from it.

Winslow could barely withhold any noises that escaped his lips at this point because it felt so good to finally be touched again like this. Swan's hand felt like a godsend at that point versus terrible. He could even feel the pleasure building up inside of his stomach and caused him to feel so strange in his own body. He'd never managed to feel this amazing even when his ex-boyfriend had taken him so eagerly back then. Swan had done something that he couldn't place and it had driven him wild enough that he'd released within the water a few minutes. His lips parted in the expression of pleasure and surprise all in one as it felt himself spill out into the water. He couldn't believe what had just happened in the bathtub was a real situation.

Winslow felt his mind drifting from consciousness as he heard Swan's voice echo throughout the room with a mere 'Beautifully done, Winslow. We'll be doing much more, next time.'

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Winslow blinked for a moment after coming to full realization that he'd been cleaned, and that had Swan had done it. There was something else that plagued his mind further however from the slight panic of having been touching so intimately by Swan.

'We'll be doing much more, next time.'

He knew that it meant there was going to be more than just handjobs, but... when?

Chapter Text

Winslow should've just tried to escape as best as he could from his containment. There was no more fooling him and it was evident to Swan that medication would have to be forced into his mouth if anything was to occur. Winslow was a vicious animal that he could not suffocate the spirit of no matter how desperately he tried. Persuasion was one of his fortes and Winslow merely glowered in hate at the speaker when he attempted to convince of him that this was a better life for him. He could've easily tossed the man aside and left him to rot after his behavior but he didn't. He didn't because there was simply something mystifying about the way that Winslow rebelled against him. All that carnage and damage he had inflicted upon Swan had left him with a desire to own that hatred in its entirety. He wished to keep it to himself and let no man or woman intervene for it gave him great pleasure when he saw such viciousness.

He pulled Winslow out of the room in proper clothing this time around, if you could genuinely call it that. Winslow was forced into something simplistic with easy access for Swan to remove, if one were to be honest about it. There was nothing nice about walking around in just boxers are an absurdly long shirt with your legs bare for all to see. Winslow was a mess to begin with when he looked at himself once more in the mirror. He looked like he was decaying away yet still even when he knew he wasn't. His life was forced into the dance of Swan's own with his contract. He wished he could honestly look better, but he knew it was virtually impossible. The impact of his actions were drawing heavily upon his mind as he recoiled in disgust at the sight of his face again. His mind was returning to him once more, but there was nothing he could honestly do about it. He was forced to live in a life of solitude under the grasp of a man who would eagerly end his life if it amused him. Swan was such an enigmatic figure that Winslow could not predict the habits of. His hands had touched Winslow in an intimate manner and it had created a strange feeling of emotion in Winslow. It couldn't quite be described no matter how much gurgling he did to himself in his room.

His thoughts didn't matter currently, however, as he was grabbed up by two stronger men from where he was sat. His cuff had been undone for now, and he'd been dragged away by two amused by annoyed men that belonged to Swan. Winslow struggled briefly before he determined that it wasn't really worth the effort to wind up with another beating. He didn't want to suffer any further abuse than he'd taken already. He'd just run himself ragged and destroy himself down to a deep nothingness, but it wasn't as if he wasn't doing that to himself already. He had pondered the realization that he was honestly nothing more than a toy for a man to use to his free will. There was no real 'Winslow Leach' anymore, just 'Winslow the Phantom who had his cock touched by the Great Musician Swan.' It didn't sit right in his mind, but it's not like he could argue with that assessment anymore. He was forced to live within the ramifications of his actions and he was getting dragged away to see Swan to begin with.

His gaze was downcast and he refused to look at the other man at all no matter how much cooed at him. He couldn't accept any form of affection that this devil had to offer him, no matter how much Swan wanted to assist he was 'attached' to him. That there was a mutual instance of emotion between the two, when there wasn't. Swan's infatuation was solely based upon the thrill of him pursuing the aspect of his life being dangled like a thread by Winslow. The desperation and rage that the man had spent trying to cut him down merely elated him, and he wanted to see more of it from him. There wasn't going to be any of that from Winslow anymore, no matter how much he might try and prod Winslow into a rage. His words could not shake him into giving in to his perversions and it intrigued Swan even further. It made the need to dominate Winslow all the more powerful.

"Are you really going to sit there moping this entire time, Winslow? Are you not ready to pursue your interests again, for just this moment?" Swan's voice crooned so condescendingly towards Winslow. He was hoping to get some form of reaction from the other man and see him attempt to try and cause a scene.

Winslow didn't react the way he wanted to, however. In fact, he merely shook his head like an ashamed child would whenever their parent wound up scolding them. Swan could only tilt his head at Winslow's behavior because he could not comprehend why he thought this fable of faux-obedience would ever work with him. He did think on the situation however and took into account that it was certainly in his favor if Winslow thought this might work. He would merely press it to the limits so that Winslow would break the facade and come through with his venom.

Winslow didn't like the smile that crept along Swan's lips that he could see from his good eye. There was something so sinister with the way that Swan merely chose to ignore his behavior. It was if the man didn't like the fact he could play the subservient lover he seemed to want so desperately. He wanted something else from Winslow and he couldn't simply place what it was. What was there to honestly invest in Winslow when he was just a nobody now. A malleable putty within the hands of a sinister man who could kill him right now if he wanted to. He wasn't allowed that satisfaction however considering that Swan was merely adjusting himself in his seat as a microphone was passed to him. Winslow knew what was going on at this moment and found himself wishing he could just honestly keel over and die right here. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to take up this kind of power and mantle when he knew what Swan was going to do.

The lights flashed on and displayed the Auditorium for Winslow to see no matter how desperately he wished he couldn't. He knew the stage that sat there, and he knew what it all meant. He could feel Swan gazing upon him as he sat there in the dimly lit balcony seat of which only Swan and He were allowed. No one could see Swan or attempt to take video or picture of him if he could be here.

Winslow's lips curled back into a miserable look of sorrow as he saw the line of women walk upon the stage to the desk where they'd sign their fate away. Swan was looking over at Winslow and enjoying that bitter agony that expressed itself upon Winslow's features. The tragedy of realization of what his life was truly going to be finally hit the little bird so hard that he looked as though he might cry. It stirred Swan just a tad with the touch of arousal. He reveled in the way that Winslow might breakdown into tears over the revelation of the fact that he become nothing more than a tool for him to ruin the lives of other's with. It bred a deep sense of desire to ruinate Winslow's mind and break him into becoming someone who worshiped him when he saw him so destroyed and helpless.

"Winslow, you look so pitiful right now, it's rather cute to behold. You should have known however that I'd still use the extent of your interest in music to my own needs. You have an exemplary taste in music that none can quite comprehend and I loathe you so much for it. I need you however in order to make sure I stay prevalent and important to the public, don't you see?" His voice remained gentle and demeaning to Winslow's ear, and it seemed to almost hypnotize him with a similar conscious to think the same. Swan witnessed that brief turmoil inside of Winslow's gaze that caused the man to shake his head in a disgusted response of no.

Swan merely huffed out a laugh and then gestured for a guard to come to his aid. He leaned over to whisper something into his ear with which the bodyguard nodded and got to adjusting Swan's pants then and there so that he was exposed for Winslow to see. He enjoyed the abrupt issue it caused with Winslow whenever the man nearly felt out of his seat and tried to scramble away. Winslow smacked right back into the chest of a burly man however whom leaned down to instruct him of what he was to do. Swan wanted to continue watching the way that Winslow's disgust became apparent on his face and the fact that he was gurgling in desperation that he wouldn't have to do what Swan was instructing him to. Swan was focusing on instructing the women to move forward at this point with that sickeningly sweet voice of his and have them sing their hearts out to try and gain his worship.

"That was quite—" Good. Is what Swan wanted to say to the young lady on the stage who couldn't have been more than twenty-one. She looked ecstatic and then shocked by Swan's interruption of sentence as though she'd made some massive mistake to cause him distress. That was the furthest thing from the truth however. Swan's interruption had come from none other than Winslow's hands coming to rest into his lap, and his fingers coming to gently caress his cock. His eye reflected distress and Winslow had indeed cried for a brief moment before he decided to engage, but he was in fact real. Swan was at a loss for words as Winslow carefully stroked his cock with his hands while Swan interviewed these girls. Swan had to pick himself together to make sure none of them became aware of what was truly happening in the balcony seats at this very moment.

"Good. I meant to say that you did very good, dear. I loved your performance quite a lot and I do believe... that I... will be seeing you within the Swanage, yes?" His voice struggled for a moment to maintain the pretense that he was merely sitting there, bored out of his mind, and indulging himself in these girls. That he was picking out which ones might be good for a fuck later, and which ones would get thrown out with tears streaming down their face on how they might do better for him. That they would come back better than ever. He didn't want to think about any of these girls in any kind of sexual situations even if he found a few quite stunning looking with their dolled up looks.

His infatuation lay solely on the individual currently in his lap pumping his cock slowly with inexperience. The matted sandy blonde hair hanging like a willow tree's limbs in the man's face. It was a perfect reflection of the aspect of misery and giving in to one's destruction. It elated Swan so much to see Winslow in such a state of decay. He was like a portrait painted with the touch of sorrow across it that others found dreadful to behold. It was a broken kind of beauty that gave Swan such deep interest. One moment Winslow could be so despairing and the next he could be so against Swan that he might hold a blade to his throat in a desperate attempt of murder. It was invigorating to his immortal life and he'd missed this kind of lavishing emotion for so long.

Swan hadn't even been paying attention to the next girl who'd come waltzing onto the stage, singing something like 'Johnny Angel' but so poorly off-key that it hurt the other girl's ears. Swan was far too busy drawing Winslow's chin up so that his lips could drawn close to Swan's cock instead of his hands. There was no words that needed to be said, but yet there was still hesitance from Winslow in the way that he looked up at Swan as if to say 'Must I?' to which he earned a nod from Swan. Winslow sluggishly drew himself up so that his lips could press light kisses upon Swan's shaft until his tongue came out to lathe up and down. A suffocated groan was what he was given as for approval of his actions.

Swan had to be snapped back to reality by one of his bodyguards when they cleared his throat. He'd uttered some kind of irritated noise into the mic apparently, and it perturbed everyone in the room to which he merely reassured he was clearing his throat. The girl who'd been singing atrociously had been shooed away immediately after the man who had replaced Philbin told her downright that she sounded like shit. It amused Swan to hear, but nonetheless enabled him refocus on the attention he was receiving down below.

Winslow's lips had finally graced the head of his cock and slowly the man had managed to take him in till his nose came pressed upon his pubes. Winslow wished hadn't the knowledge of how to suck off a man, but he did from all his decisions in life. He had enjoyed this kind of thing before, but found it so terrible now when he had to do it with a man he absolutely despised with every fiber of his being. It didn't stop him from making it the best thing he could give Swan because he feared what might become of him if he failed at even doing this for the man. He had to use every ounce of his strength to start a good pace of bobbing his head up and down while his tongue carefully lathed itself against the veins of Swan's cock. He knew he'd been doing quite well because a hand came to plant itself down into his mess of what he'd call hair and grip it tightly. His gaze focusing upon the figure that had ordered he do this to him and Winslow came to witness an interesting sight.

Swan was actually crumbling into the touch of pleasure and incapable of honestly holding himself together properly. His hand was shaking while holding the microphone and nothing could be done for him at this point. He had to pass the microphone off to the Bodyguard who immediately assumed control of the situation. Swan had to have his focus solely on the way that Winslow gazed up at him while sucking him off. He looked like the perfect kind of whore you'd search for in all of these women that came to him. They wouldn't give him a challenge though, they'd eagerly get down on their knees and give him exactly what he wanted, but never what Swan needed. Winslow however was a different cased that he couldn't quite explain. He could feel pleasure coiling in his gut for once in his life that didn't feel so plain and tired. Winslow's expressions and the way he made such gross little sloppy sounds when he sucked him off made Swan want to release. He wanted Winslow to be stained forever with this memory, so what better way to do it?

"Stop what you're doing." Swan commanded in a low tone with such strength that Winslow immediately pulled off and waited for the impending berating that he was to receive for such a poor performance. There was nothing but Swan's heavy panting that could be heard, and a choked moan that had to be quickly stifled so that nothing else disturbed the audience not too far off.

Winslow could feel the hot touch of semen staining his cheeks and likely in his hair by now. It disgusted him deeply and caused his lips to draw back in a silent whimper of distress. He bowed his head to the ground while Swan's soft chuckling filled his ears and his voice crooned amusedly to him once more.

"You've still got so much coming to you, Winslow."

Winslow felt tears stream down from his eye as he realized what was going to come next for him. It was never enough that Swan had Phoenix. No no. He hadn't wanted Phoenix had he? He merely wanted something to control Winslow, and now he had Winslow himself. Winslow knew now that Swan desired him in every essence no matter how desperately he'd reject him. He had to live with this lifestyle. He couldn't fight anymore no matter how much it killed him inside. He was entirely Swan's.