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Tainted Love	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 3468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marilyn Manson or anything affiliated with him or the band. I don't know any of these famous people in real life and none of this story happened. This is fiction and just for fun. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Warning!!: Illegal drug use.
Author’s Note: ‘We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold.’ - Raoul Duke

Chapter Fourteen: Fear and Loathing with Friends
The first thing Raven noticed was the smell of cigarette smoke. Her brow crinkling in confusion, she opened her eyes to make out the blurred outline of a person standing next to her bed. The person appeared to be dressed in an odd black and yellow shirt as well as white shorts. As her vision cleared, the sleepy female was able to make out what appeared to be Raoul Duke standing next to her bed. “Mmmph, whatever I took last night I think I need more,” she mumbled to herself as she rubbed her eyes to make the image disappear.
When Raoul Duke didn’t disappear, Raven blinked and took a closer look. Upon closer inspection Raven noticed it was Johnny dressed as Raoul from Fear and Loathing. “J-Johnny? What are you doing dressed up like that?” she squeaked out, waving a wisp of cigarette smoke out of her face.
“Well, we’re in Las Vegas so I figured why not,” he responded in his Raoul Duke voice, smiling around the cigarette holder in his mouth.
“Anything worth doing, is worth doing right,” she returned with her own smile as she swung her legs over the side of her bed.
“Took the words out of my mouth. You’ll need more clothes than that,” ‘Raoul’ responded, gesturing to her attire with an amused grin. His brown eyes sparkled from behind his large, orange, aviator sunglasses as he took a long drag from the cigarette in the holder.
“And you’ll need to amscray before I get dressed,” Raven quipped, placing her hands on her hips. Her only article of clothing she had on was an extra large Marilyn Manson t-shirt.
“Hmm, if this is the view I’ll get I think I’ll stick around,” ‘Raoul’ responded with a semi-perverted grin as his glasses hidden eyes roved over her body.
Raven’s pale face went deep crimson as she laughed nervously. Although she couldn’t see his eyes, she could tell by his body language that he was actually ogling her. “That’s very funny Johnny but if you want me to get dressed sometime today you’re going to have to leave now,” Raven responded a bit nervously, not quite daring to meet his eyes.
All of a sudden he was right in front of her, his hand lifting her chin as he locked gazes with her through the orange tinted glasses. “What if I like what you’re wearing?” he whispered in a gruff voice, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her close.
“S-stop joking around! You just got done saying I needed more clothes on,” she responded, sounding even more nervous as she squirmed in his tight grasp.
“Who says I’m joking,” Johnny responded, his voice deep and throaty as he rested his forehead against hers. His lips barely touched hers, making her draw in a shaky breath.
Raven looked up at him with wide hazel eyes, arousal fighting for dominance with guilt inside her. With a small smile, she tried to push away from the actor; only making him tighten his arms around her. “J-Johnny, I can’t. I’m with Marilyn,” she whispered softly, pulling away from him again.
“I know,” he sighed, finally releasing her reluctantly. Raven looked up at him with regret and sympathy as she rested a gentle hand on his bare arm.
“I’m sorry, you have no idea how sorry I am. If I wasn’t with Marilyn, I would be with you in a heartbeat. To be honest, I never thought Manson would want me; let alone you. I mean look at me! I’m nothing amazing to look at! Especially compared to Dita,” Raven assured, gesturing to herself. She was a little overweight but not morbidly obese, was more pale than paper and was also a mere 5’ 8”; nothing she considered appealing in the slightest.
“Sweetie, I haven’t been able to stop looking at you since I met you in the park. There’s just something about you that draws me to you,” he whispered in a shaky, throaty voice, his hands clenching and unclenching.
Raven’s throat suddenly felt very dry and she swallowed reflexively, a dry click coming from her throat. The tone of Johnny’s voice as well as what he was saying had caused a jolt of arousal as well as flusterment to run through her. “J-Johnny…,” she stammered, clutching her hands in her shirt over her racing heart.
“Forget it hun, lets just get on with our day,” he replied with a small grin. Then he turned and left the room, leaving Raven to her tortured, guilty thoughts.
Two pairs of black painted lips met with a heated moan from both parties. Manson’s pale right hand tangled in Twiggy’s dreadlocks while his tongue plundered the ex-guitarist’s willing mouth. The singer’s free hand traveled down Jeordie’s naked hips, scratching at the darker skin lightly with his black nails. “Mmmmm,” Twiggy moaned heatedly into Manson’s mouth as he wrapped both his arms around the other man’s pale neck.
Manson broke the kiss slowly, a low, satisfied growl rumbling low in his bony chest. Twiggy whimpered pathetically, his kohl covered lids fluttering open. “B-Bri…,” he moaned breathily, moving one of his hands to the back of Manson’s head. His hand tightened in the shoulder length, black hair as he tried to force the singer’s lips back down to his.
“Mmm naughty Jeordie, calling me my birthname,” the singer hissed in a baritone so deep it was nearly a growl, his hand tightening on Jeordie’s hip almost painfully.
“Ah!” Twiggy gasped out, his dreadlocked head tilting back as Manson bit his neck hard.
The singer growled against his ex-bandmate’s neck possessively as he bit Jeordie’s flesh. A rush of copper fluid came into his mouth, making him release the wound gently. Making a noise that could only be described as a purr, Manson lapped at the bleeding wound; his left hand coming up to tweak a dark nipple. “Just fuckin’ take me already Mare! You know I hate this teasing shit,” Jeordie growled, reaching between them to cup Manson’s straining erection.
Manson gasped, his hips jerking of their own accord as Jeordie’s hand met his aching flesh. “Mmmm, all in good time Jeordie,” he purred, pulling his throbbing member out of the ex-guitarist’s reach.
“Oh god Manson, you know what saying my name like that does to me,” Twiggy panted, his brown eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.
“Only too well Jeordie,” the singer rumbled, kissing down Twiggy’s naked body. He stopped at the nest of black pubes, admiring the panting man’s rock hard member. A pearly drop of salty pre beaded at the tip and Manson licked his lips at the sight of it.
Giving the twitching rod a chaste kiss, Manson moved down until his head rested between Jeordie’s surprisingly hairless thighs. With deft hands, the now smirking singer lifted and parted Twiggy’s legs until his pucker was revealed to his eyes. “Marilyn, you better not be thinking of doing what I think you are,” Jeordie gasped out, his thighs twitching in Manson’s hands.
Chuckling low in his chest, Manson snaked out his tongue and licked the puckered skin of Twiggy’s entrance. Jeordie moaned heatedly, arching his hips to press himself against Manson’s tongue. The singer merely grinned before giving the puckered flesh another slow lick. “Oh ffffuck,” Jeordie growled out, gripping the black silk sheets in both hands.
“You always did love this,” Manson purred, blowing against the moist flesh.
“Mmmmnh, bastard,” Twiggy hissed, wiggling his hips in the performer’s tight grasp.
Chuckling again, Manson pressed his tongue against the tight hole; wriggling the tip of the strong muscle just past the tight ring. “Ah-ahn! Oooooooh,” Twiggy gasped out, his hips jolting upward as he tried to press down on the tongue inside him. Purring in approval, Manson gripped Jeordie’s trembling hips and forced them wider apart. His tongue slowly went deeper and deeper into the tight passage until he felt a small bump of flesh deep inside.
With a deft flick of his skilled tongue, Manson pressed hard against the nub of flesh briefly; earning a breathless moan of pure lust from the ex-guitarist beneath him. Growling possessively, Manson gripped Twiggy’s hips in merciless hands as his tongue continued to brush the small bundle of nerves within the man. “A-ah! Oh ffffuck, oh jesus fuck. P-please Mare, j-just take me already,” Twiggy begged breathlessly as he writhed beneath Manson.
The singer pulled his tongue out of Twiggy, licking his black lipsticked lips as he crawled over the panting man. Twiggy reached for him with shaky hands, leaning up to kiss Manson with all the passion he currently felt as he wrapped his legs around the performer’s waist. Manson’s tongue tangled with Jeordie’s as he rubbed his leaking tip against the ex-guitarist’s still damp entrance. Growling into Twiggy’s mouth, Manson moved forward; hilting himself inside the other man in one swift move. “Ah fuck me,” Twiggy gasped out, breaking the kiss as his nails raked down Manson’s pale back.
“I believe that was the idea,” Manson growled, beginning to move inside Jeordie’s now writhing body.
“Mmmmnnn just like that Mare,” he gasped out, arching his back as Manson thrust inside him.
Manson panted through gritted teeth as he sat on his knees while thrusting into the gasping man below him. Each stroke of his rock hard member inside Jeordie caused a shiver of delight to go through the ex-guitarist. “Fffuck Jeordie. You’re so damn tight,” he grunted through gritted teeth as he grasped onto the other man’s hips and pulled out until his purple head rested on the outside of Twiggy’s slightly pulsing pucker.
“D-don’t you fucking stop Manson!” Twiggy snarled, trying to press back against Manson’s hard length.
“Impatient as always,” the singer purred, slowly thrusting into Jeordie; drawing out a low, long moan of pleasure from the man.
As soon as he was fully hilted, Manson pulled out slowly only to thrust back in just as slowly; earning another heated moan of passion from Twiggy. With a grin, Manson began to thrust slowly in and out of Jeordie; earning a loud moan every time he thrust in. Soon Manson was fairly pounding into the near screaming Jeordie, grunts coming from between gritted teeth every time he thrust. “B-Bri, oh fuck, I’m c-cumming,” Jeordie gasped out, his nails scratching welts down Manson’s pale back.
“Rngh,” was Manson’s only response as he kept thrusting in and out of Twiggy’s tight, pulsing passage.
“Oh fuck, oh ffuck, Brian!” Jeordie screamed out going stiff as long strings of white cum exploded from his throbbing member.
“Raven,” Manson hissed as his body went stiff as he spilled himself inside Jeordie.
Instead of being angry at the singer for calling out someone else’s name during orgasm, Twiggy merely gave Manson a gentle kiss. Still recovering from his orgasm, Manson smiled down at the ex-guitarist. “Thanks Jeordie,” Manson whispered softly, giving the other man a gentle hug.
“Any time Mare,” Jeordie responded, meaning it. He didn’t mind one bit that the singer had called for Raven, had even expected it. He had no illusions about his position in the singer’s life but didn’t care. He only wanted to offer Manson a safe out for all his sexual urges.
“I wish I could offer you more,” Manson murmured sincerely, rolling to lay beside Twiggy.
“Shhh, its okay Mare. I’m just happy that you’re happy,” Twiggy responded, gently cupping Manson’s make-up covered face.
“I can’t wait until you meet Raven,” Manson replied, wrapping an arm around the ex-guitarist.
“Neither can I. She must be one incredible woman,” Jeordie replied, smiling contently at the singer.
Raven dressed in her usual attire, a Marilyn Manson t-shirt and black jeans. She stood looking at her bedroom door with a fair amount of trepidation. Her entire body tingled with anticipation of seeing Johnny so soon after the odd events of the morning. Taking in a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, the black haired woman opened her door. Just outside, on the right side of the door, leaning against the wall stood Johnny; still dressed as Raoul Duke. A wisp of smoke rose from the cigarette sitting delicately in the holder as he slid it over to the other side of his mouth. “Er, hey Johnny,” Raven greeted nervously, earning a startled jerk of his hat covered head.
“Johnny? Who’re ya callin’ Johnny?” he mumbled in his Raoul voice, swaying on his feet slightly.
Raven blinked a bit in confusion before it hit her, he was entirely in character right now. He’d probably go so far as to only respond to the name Raoul right now. “Sorry, mistook you for another friend of mine. You two look a lot alike after all,” Raven replied, slipping into a sort of character of her own.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before. Come on! Lets get you fed,” he responded jovially, moving to her side and pulling her close with one arm. Then he began to gently steer them toward the kitchen.
Once Raven had eaten, ‘Raoul’ handed her a large pair of green tinted aviator sunglasses. “What are these for?” she asked curiously, twirling them around in her right hand.
“For going out of course! I’ve been dying to explore this city with you, show you the savage nature of man himself,” ‘Raoul’ announced happily, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“Of course. Are we going to be consuming illegal substances on this venture?” Raven asked hesitantly, her head darting up to look around for Amanda. Said curly haired female was standing in the kitchen, sipping her coffee.
“Do you even have to ask?” he replied, a delicate brow shooting up incredulously as he slid what looked like a sheet of stamps across the table to her. The image of the actual Hunter S. Thompson was printed across the entire sheet.
“How did…? You know what, I don’t wanna know,” Raven sighed, shaking her head and closing her eyes.
“Mmmm with your tolerance I would suggest only taking two. I also have some Ether down in the car as well as some Mescaline,” he announced, taking another sheet of the strange stamps out of his pocket.
“John, er, Raoul don’t you think this is going a bit too far?” Raven asked, looking down at the sheet in front of her.
“Of course not! I’d dare say I’m not taking it far enough! Since its your first time I thought I’d take it easy on you,” the ‘journalist’ quipped, tapping his cigarette into a glass ashtray that was on the table.
“Ugh, Amanda what do you have to say about this?” Raven asked, looking at the neutral woman. Amanda smiled at Raven, taking another slow sip of her coffee.
“I’d say go for it. ‘Raoul’ there seems to know what he’s doing and you’ve always been curious about trying these drugs,” Amanda responded, smirking at her non-plused friend. From the look on Raven’s face the other woman hadn’t expected her response.
“Wh-what?” Raven squeaked out, utterly confused. In a thousand years she never would have expected such a nonchalant response from her best friend about the use of illegal substances.
“You heard her! Take your medicine and let’s be on our way,” ‘Raoul’ groused, waving at her impatiently.
Looking helplessly at the two people, Raven reluctantly tore off two squares of the sheet and stuck them in her mouth. To her surprise the only taste she got was the taste of paper slowly dissolving in her saliva. “How long do I have?” she asked nervously once she had swallowed the small wads of paper.
“Oh roughly a half hour,” “Raoul’ replied with a grin, putting the cigarette holder back in his mouth. Then he grabbed her hand, tugging gently as he got to his feet.
Sighing, Raven reluctantly put on her sunglasses as she got to her feet. ‘Raoul’ grinned at her in such a way that she couldn’t help but return it. “Don’t worry, we’re going to have fun! And maybe, just maybe we’ll discover the ‘American Dream’ along the way,” he announced in a stereotypical adventurer voice as he led her out the door.
Amanda observed the pair until the door closed, sighing as she took another sip of her coffee. While Raven was changing, Johnny had broken character long enough to tell her his plan. He had given a very long, well documented explanation of the drugs he was about to introduce to Raven and asked for her permission to do so. She had agreed mostly because she knew that doing this odd scenario was one of Raven’s biggest dreams.
Amanda didn’t pretend to understand the movie ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’ but she knew it was one of Raven’s favorites to watch. She had never understood her friend’s curiosity about drugs either, not wanting to ever do them herself. Yet she had always tried to give Raven a safe environment to experiment in, just as long as she didn’t bring in shit like cocaine, meth or heroin. She even knew about Raven’s occasional use of cough medicine to get high but never said anything. She knew that Raven went out of her way to do it when she thought she was asleep.
Feeling a bit of worry beginning to blossom in her stomach, Amanda looked down at her phone. Right before he had left, Ginger had insisted on exchanging numbers ‘just in case she needed someone to talk to’. Smiling softly, the curly haired female flipped open the blue phone that had a Superman decal on the front of it and pressed the contact number on the screen. “A-Amanda?” came a breathless, nervous voice from the other end.
“Hey Ging! How’ve you been during this huge mess?” Amanda asked gently, smiling at how nervous he sounded. He sounded so adorable that she wanted to hug him.
“W-well, it hasn’t been any worse than the norm really,” he answered, smiling as he moved away from his bandmates. Pogo was grinning widely at him, wiggling his eyebrows lewdly. Ginger flipped off the keyboardist, earning a throaty laugh as he moved towards the back of the tour bus.
“The reason I called was, well, er… did you want to go out when you get here?” she asked, suddenly feeling nervous as a light blush colored her pale cheeks.
“O-of course! I would love to! I have just the place!” the drummer gushed excitedly, sounding as if she had just made his day.
The LSD was just beginning to kick in as they pulled up outside Bazooko’s Circus. Raven found herself being tugged out of the rented red convertible and an ether soaked, american flag bandana being shoved into her hand. “Hold it up against your face and inhale,” ‘Raoul’ instructed gently, pulling her to a hidden corner.
“Are you sure bout this?” Raven slurred, looking at the odd smelling rag with a fair amount of hesitation. Her world was already bending and warping around her, she wasn’t too sure about mixing another substance on top of this.
“Hurry, before it evaporates woman!” he urged, shoving the hand hold the rag toward her mouth gently.
Closing her eyes, Raven opened her mouth and inhaled the horrible smelling fumes. Almost immediately she felt light-headed and dizzy, stumbling on her feet a bit even though she hadn’t moved. “There ya go,” he purred, gently taking the rag from her hand and pressing it to his own mouth. Then he began to steer them in a stumbling line towards the entrance of the building.
After a few moments of a blur of noise and spinning, Raven found herself inside the worst place to be on acid. People dressed in odd costumes twisted in the air over her head, seeming to almost teleport from place to place. Only ‘Raoul’s’ gentle, guiding arm around her waist kept her from stumbling into people. Her focus was more on the magical people twisting in the air above her than the crowd around her. Unfortunately his grip slipped for a second and she bumped into a really tall, very pissed off man. “What the fuck?!” the man snarled, whirling around and glaring at the very dazed looking Raven.
“Woah, hey! Don’t mind her my man! She’s just a bit drunk. First time in Las Vegas,” ‘Raoul’ explained smoothly, slipping between the man and Raven. He reached behind himself, gripping her hand into his and holding tightly.
“You better keep a better eye on your slut,” the burly man hissed, before turning his back on the oddly dressed ‘journalist’.
‘Raoul’ blinked, his hand tightening on Raven’s slightly as rage began to bubble through the drugs flowing through his system. With his free hand he poked firmly at the much larger man’s back, causing the other man to turn his head slightly to look at him. “Excuse me friend, would you care to repeat that? I didn’t quite catch what you called my lady friend here,” ‘Raoul’ chuckled, his voice full of false joviality.
“Then I’ll say it louder. Keep a closer eye on your slut,” the man growled, enunciating each word in the last sentence carefully.
‘Raoul’ visibly bristled, his posture going from relaxed to aggressive in a second. If Raven had been capable of thought she would have sworn Johnny was actually channeling Hunter S. Thompson in that moment. “You fucking swine,” he hissed, releasing her hand to cock back a fist.
Raven took that moment to follow a dancing light only she could see, drawing ‘Raoul’s’ attention to her instead of the towering asshole. “Ah fuck, Raven get back here,” he exclaimed, jogging after the dazed woman.
After a lot of wrangling, ‘Raoul’ managed to get Raven to the huge spinning carousel in the middle of the building. Raven was staring at nothing as she sat at one of the tables and the ‘journalist’ across from her watched her closely. He had opted to stay sober to keep a better eye on Raven, who appeared to be having a great time so far.
A few hours of weirdness later, Raven finally came down enough to allow ‘Raoul’ to drive her back to the apartment. “You did great today! Handled it like a pro! We’ll have to step it up for tomorrow!” he chirped as he sped off towards the hotel.
“S-step it up?” Raven whimpered, suddenly feeling very nervous about tomorrow.
- 13
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- 15
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Tainted Love