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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
- 18
- 19
- 20
Author’s Note: “We can't let fear stop us! I'm not afraid of the darkness!” - Riku (Kingdom Hearts)
Wight Spider (c) Marilyn Manson
(Also a big thank you to everyone who has stuck it out this long! You guys are awesome even if all you’re doing is reading it! I hope I can continue to have your interest in this series.)

Chapter Nineteen: Flipping the Coin
Raven blended in perfectly with the crowd that jammed the concert doors. If it had only been nearly a month ago, she would have been right there with them. Watching the screaming crowd from the window of the tour bus as it pulled up to the side of the concert hall was a surreal experience. Taking in a steadying breath, the nervous female turned to look at the band members. Ginger smiled at her reassuringly, giving her arm a gentle pat. Twiggy, noticing how pale and twitchy she had become, came up beside her and sat down. “You’ll be okay hun, Manny won’t let anything happen to you,” he assured gently.
Barely able to stop a snicker at the ridiculous nickname, the still nervous female smiled beamingly at the ex-guitarist. “Thanks Twiggy,” she replied gratefully, fighting the urge to look back out the window. Instead, her hazel eyes went to the back room where Manson had himself shut in.
“Don’t worry about him. He always gets a bit weird before a show, having to get into character and all that,” Jeordie whispered, wrapping a reassuring arm loosely around her shoulders. Without knowing it, the dreadlocked man had hit the nail on the head about what she was dreading.
This would be her first full experience with Manson’s rather abrasive, domineering, and frankly frightening stage persona. To say she was intimidated was putting it lightly. Her brief encounters with this side of the singer hadn’t exactly been encouraging. Unwanted memories of him screaming at her filled her head. Shaking her head with a quiet growl, Raven dispelled the unwelcome thoughts. Whatever happened, she would take it one step at a time. “I know, I’ve been on the wrong side of it before,” she murmured quietly, clasping her hands tightly to prevent them from shaking.
Pogo rolled into her line of vision, coming to a stop in front of her and hopping to his booted feet. He quirked a blonde brow at her, a not too sane smirk on his face. “Don’t worry! Be happy!” he cackled, mussing her black locks with a rough hand. Raven only rolled her hazel eyes, keeping her focus on the closed back room as the bus came to a stop.
“Hey, hey look at me,” the keyboardist requested, his voice completely serious.
Shocked by his unusually serious tone, Raven turned to lock eyes with the keyboardist. He was in an awkward squat in front of her, his brown eyes looking up into hers. His face was free of its usual grin, his expression almost solemn. “No matter what happens out there you just need to remember one thing, he loves you,” Pogo whispered, gently grasping her injured hand in his. His thumb brushed briefly over the scabbed wound on the top of her wrist, his brown eyes sparkling knowingly.
Raven was utterly stunned by how gentle and serious Pogo was being. The fact that the entire band had gone silent and was watching only deepened her suspicions that this was highly unusual behavior. “Don’t do this again. He won’t take it well,” the keyboardist murmured, kissing the injured flesh before getting to his feet. The shocked female pulled her hand back, holding the scabbed flesh against the black material of her t-shirt. Just as she was about to ask what he meant by that, the loony man clapped his hands together and began to grin maniacally while rubbing them together.
Ginger, who had been standing next to Pogo, immediately skittered away from the mohawked keyboardist. Twiggy immediately moved to partially shield Raven, despite looking quite terrified as well. “Ooooh that’s a great idea,” the mohawked madman hissed to himself, cackling quietly as his gaze shifted to the closed door of the back room.
Sighing softly, Raven shook her head at the antics as she got to her booted feet. Simply unable to just sit still, she began to pace as the bus came to a stop. Jeordie watched her, light concern on his face. The others, on the other hand, were busy unloading gear from the bus. Just as the ex-guitarist was about to comfort the nervous female again, the back room door flew open.
Raven’s head shot up and she froze in place. There, in the doorway, stood the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ she had drooled over countless times. Thick, black kohl surrounded his glittering, mismatched eyes. White make-up coated his face and his black lips were twisted into an angry sneer. He was only dressed in a black g-string, a black corset, torn nylons and black platform boots. He almost looked like he was getting ready for a twisted prono shoot. Thin, white scars dotted his pale chest and his inky hair spilled down his back like an ebony waterfall. It was almost enough to make her start squealing like the fan girl she actually was.
Noticing Raven’s hazel eyes glaze over with lust, Manson’s angry smirk turned into one of self satisfaction. “See something you like?” he purred, stalking towards her almost like a lion hunting an antelope. His smooth, lust filled voice snapping her out of her daze, the flustered woman swallowed dryly before shaking her head.
“Really? I could have sworn you were nearly drooling,” he rumbled softly, coming within inches of her, gently cupping her face and rubbing her nose with his.
The normally pale woman’s face went an impressive shade of red as a small squeak left her trembling lips. Manson only chuckled gruffly, nearly sounding like he was growling instead; his bare, tattooed arms wrapping around her loosely. “What’s wrong? You suddenly seem unable to speak,” he husked out, his tone darkly playful as he briefly bent to lick her ear.
“M-meep!” she gasped sharply, flinching slightly at the contact as her face went an even deeper shade of red. Currently caught between feeling extremely flustered and feeling highly aroused, Raven could only look up at him helplessly.
“Okay Mare, that’s enough. The poor girl is about to explode,” interjected a playful male voice, a brown skinned hand grasping one of the singer’s tattoo covered shoulders.
“Heh, but she makes such cute noises when she’s flustered,” Manson purred, smirking down at Raven arrogantly.
Slightly coming back to herself at that, Raven frowned weakly at him before pushing out of his loose hold. The singer only chuckled, lust swirling within his eyes as he smirked down at her. “I... er, uhm,” she sputtered, her angry words dying on her lips as she locked eyes with him.
“Come meet me on stage in a few hours,” Manson rumbled, smirking wider before turning and leaving. Raven could only stare after him, her hazel eyes automatically going to his exposed butt.
Jeordie smirked at her knowingly before snapping his fingers in front of her dazed face a few times. “Hellooooo, anyone in there?” he called in a sing-song voice, waving his hand in front of her eyes as she blinked a few times.
“Huh?” she gasped out, turning to look at the ex-guitarist dumbly.
“Boy, you do have it bad,” he remarked teasingly, a hint of wonder threaded in his voice.
That caused Raven to snap out of it, her blush coming back in full force. “Oh god, I was practically a puddle at his feet,” she groaned out in embarrassment, her small hands going to her flaming cheeks.
“Oh I don’t think he minded one bit,” Twiggy assured teasingly, pulling her into a one armed hug. Raven only sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Any idea what he has up his sleeve?” the blushing woman asked, avoiding the former band member’s gaze.
“Oh I might have a few but I’m not allowed to tell you,” he replied, removing his hand from her arm and ruffling her black locks.
“Aw c’mon! Fucking really!” Raven yelled, pulling away from Twiggy to glare at him. The ex-guitarist’s brown eyes glittered with inner mirth, his grin only widening.
“Do you kiss yer mama with that mouth? Now come on, we have to get ya dressed. The guys’ll be done setting up soon,” the effeminate male chuckled, gently grasping her arm and leading her into the back room.
“Wh-what? But I’m already dressed,” she protested, a look of confusion on her face.
“Indeed but Manny had a special outfit in mind for you,” Twiggy purred, his voice full of humor as he closed the door behind them.
Amanda awoke hours later to full on darkness. Turning her light on and letting out a pained noise at the sudden brightness, the curly haired woman pulled herself out of her rose colored sheets. “Mmmngh. I’m going to need a vacation from this vacation,” she grumbled, tottering unsteadily to her dresser. After fumbling around for a few moments, the half asleep female pulled out a tiger t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans.
Once she had dressed, Amanda sleepily stumbled into the kitchen; to be greeted by a truly jaw dropping sight. There, standing in front of an open refrigerator, stood a shirtless Johnny Depp. The half asleep actor seemed utterly oblivious to her presence, propping the door of the fridge open with his thigh as he poured himself a glass of milk. After gaping at him for a few moments, the now wide awake female tore her eyes away from his tanned back and sat at the table in the alcove.
On said table were two V.I.P tickets to tonight’s concert. Picking them up with a semi-exasperated look, Amanda merely shook her head before placing them back on the table. She was simply too tired to suffer through another concert. With a long suffering sigh, the pale female flopped into a chair, placing her curly haired head into her delicate hands. “You look like you need a mug of hot cocoa,” came a gentle male voice from behind her.
“After the night we had, I’d say we both need cocoa as well as a good movie to watch while sipping it,” she replied softly, turning to smile tiredly at Johnny.
“Amen to that. Go pick out the silliest comedy on Pay-per-View, my treat. I’ll make us some hot chocolate,” Johnny replied with a small grin. Amanda couldn’t help but return it as she sat on the couch and turned on the T.V.
“We’ll just see who pays for what here,” the tiny woman hissed, her eyes glinting from the perceived challenge as she began to flip through the channels.
Raven gaped at the outfit that Jeordie had practically forced on her. He had even gone so far as to refuse to let her out of the bathroom until she had changed. Now that she had it on, she had to admit it looked pretty damn good on her. On her torso she wore a black, form fitting, black corset that had green trim. The bottom was a many layered, black lace, almost torn looking skirt that ended just above her knees. Torn nylon, much like her boyfriend’s, adorned her legs and on her feet were her usual platform boots. “Do ya need help with the make-up sweetie?” came a half concerned, half amused voice from the other side of the closed door.
“Actually, that would be appreciated,” she admitted weakly. She only ever wore make-up on special occasions and then it had only been lipstick and nail polish. The make-up in front of her was stuff she had never put on by herself.
Jeordie only chuckled, shaking his dreadlocked head as he opened the door. “I kinda guessed that would be the case. You don’t exactly seem like the type who would use this stuff,” he replied, a patient smile on his face as he moved to help.
“Oh hush. I’ve never felt the need to wear it,” she grumbled, glaring at the ex-guitarist.
“Well tonight’s a special night! Now sit still, this won’t take long,” Twiggy replied, reaching for the eyeliner pencil.
Manson paced while the rest of the band scrambled to set up their instruments. The expression on his face was somewhere between nervous and agitated as he prowled back and forth. “Bri?” came a very familiar female voice from beside him. Immediately, the singer whirled to glare at the woman.
“Fuck off Dita. Fuck right off!” he hissed, his mismatched eyes narrowing in anger. As he glowered at her, it was all Manson could do not to start drooling.
The model was dressed in a form fitting black dress, her ebony hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Her lips were a deep, ruby red and a faint dusting of blue eye shadow was on her eyelids. Her red nailed hand clutched her fashionable black purse as her striking blue eyes stared at him sadly. “I know you don’t want to see me but I had to say this in person. I recently had the opportunity to meet with Raven. She, as well as Jeordie, made me rethink a few things. I just wanted to apologize for everything I put you through,” she murmured softly, watching him almost warily.
“Apologize nothing! Not only did you drive away almost every girlfriend I’ve had after you but you gave the paparazzi Raven’s personal information! On top of that you had the nerve to actually hunt her down! Were you trying to drive her away too?!” he roared, his hands curling into tight, shaking fists by his side. Dita only winced in response, her gaze not moving from his.
“I just wanted to protect you. Those other women only wanted you for your fame. None of them really loved you,” she whispered softly, her right hand tightening on the “While you may be right about that, it doesn’t give you the right to interfere with my life!” he snarled heatedly, not noticing his band was beginning to notice the commotion.
“Mare, I know how you can get when you find out your girlfriend has been using you. I’ve seen the deep scars it left. I couldn’t bear to see you go through any of it again,” she replied quietly, tears brimming in her eyes.
“So you thought it would be better to just drive them away?! How do you know that none of them loved me?! Did you honestly know anything about them before you began your crusades?!” raged the fuming singer as he gestured violently with his bare arms. Behind him Pogo was motioning frantically to the others and pointing, going unnoticed by both parties.
“I didn’t think about any of that. As soon as I heard you were with someone, I called my private investigator to check them out. Almost half the time he came back with evidence they wanted you to boost their career or just wanted to date a famous person,” she responded quietly, wincing a bit at how that sounded. She sounded like some crazy ex that only wanted to destroy him.
“And what in the blue fuck made you think you had the right to send a private investigator after them?! For fuck’s sake Dita!” Manson screamed, drawing the attention of many of the security personnel wandering around. Immediately his bare tattooed arms were grabbed in two strong grips and Ginger came to stand between them.
“You lost any right to interfere with my life when you fucking tried to change me!” he roared, trying to lunge forward despite the band members holding him tightly.
“Brian, I’m so sorry! I never meant for any of this to go so far! I was just so worried about what would happen when the next bimbo left you, I just couldn’t take the chance,” she replied, tears beginning to track black mascara down her pale cheeks.
“FUCK YOU!! Don’t you ever call me by my real name again! You don’t fucking deserve it!” the enraged singer screamed, veins standing out in his pale neck.
“Get out of here Dita. You’ve caused more than enough damage by just showing up,” Ginger whispered, a hard edge to his voice. The pin-up model could only nod weakly, dabbing her eyes with a white handkerchief as she backed away.
Manson’s enraged eyes watched her as she turned and fled. A sneer fixed itself on his painted face as he yanked his arms free of Pogo and Tim. Ginger immediately whirled around, eye him with concern. “Manson do not let this get to you! If you go off on Raven again...,” the drummer began, only to have the angry mismatched eyes settle on him.
“Get back to work,” he snarled, fury burning deep within his whitish-blue and brown eyes.
“Manson, stop being a dick for a moment and listen!” Pogo snapped, not flinching as the pissed superstar whipped around to glower at him.
“Whatever else you do tonight, don’t take out what happened on Raven. She couldn’t handle that and you should be man enough not to ask her to,” the keyboardist hissed, anger and defiance flashing in his brown eyes as he faced off with Manson.
Raven gaped at her reflection in the mirror, her mouth unconsciously hanging open. Twiggy had done a great job, almost making her seem like some sort of goth queen. Midnight colored kohl surrounded her glittering hazel eyes and almost blood red lipstick adorned her lips. A light dusting of white face paint was used to accentuate her natural paleness, making her skin almost look as if it was made from porcelain. The outfit she wore made her look like something out of a vampire novel and the effect was breathtaking. Even Jeordie was looking at her appreciatively. “You look stunning sweetie,” he encouraged, beginning to run a brush gently through her ebony locks.
“You know, I can do that myself,” she grumbled in a half resigned manner. In truth, having nothing on her torso made her feel very naked and slightly uncomfortable. It was everything she could do no to tug at imaginary sleeves to cover her bared shoulders.
“I know you can but you simply won’t. Since the moment I laid eyes on you I’ve been dying to try something with your gorgeous hair,” chirped the ex guitarist as he parted the long, black locks to the right. Under his skillful hands, the ends curled slightly upwards and framed her face. Once he was satisfied, he stepped back to admire his work. Even Raven had to admit she looked pretty damn good.
A sudden, musical tapping on the door grabbed both their attention and they turned to look. There, in the door, stood a slightly irritable looking Pogo. All irritation left his face as he almost did a double take at the sight of Raven. “Wow,” he breathed, his brown eyes roaming slowly over her body from head to foot. Blushing brightly, Raven automatically crossed her arms over her chest to cover the exposed tops of her breasts. Chuckling slightly at her shyness, Twiggy turned to Pogo and raised a brow.
“Earth to Madonna Wayne Gacy! Come in Pogo!” he teased, waving a delicate, brown skinned hand in front of the keyboardist’s face.
“Huh? Oh yeah! Come on gals, Manson’s ready for ya,” Pogo replied, some of the playfulness slipping back into his voice. However, his eyes never left Raven.
“I think I’ll join you guys later. I got a few things of my own to get ready,” Jeordie replied with a grin before squeezing by Pogo and leaving the small bathroom. Pogo, instead of leering at her or doing any of his usual antics, simply offered his arm to her.
Looking up at the mohawked keyboardist cautiously, the pale female gingerly took Pogo’s arm; ready to run at a moment’s notice. Pogo only grinned gently in response before carefully leading her out of the bathroom, through the bus and down the steps. “Be careful with Manson tonight,” he hissed, almost too quiet to hear, as they walked up to a hidden stage door in the side of the building.
“What?” she asked, looking up at the blonde man confused. The normally hyper and jovial keyboardist seemed oddly tense, almost afraid. Pogo only opened the door for her, allowing her to enter.
“I’m not allowed to tell you what happened, just know he’s going to be more pissy than usual,” he whispered, holding her by the shoulder and whispering in her ear; his brown eyes were fixed on the stage just a few feet ahead.
“We’re going on in five minutes! Where the fuck is Pogo with Raven?!” came a pissed off roar from the direction of the stage.
“Oh jesus,” she whispered, fear beginning to flood her system as her knees went weak. She would have collapsed to the concrete if it hadn’t been for Pogo steadying her. The sheer amount of rage she had heard in the singer’s voice nearly made her faint on the spot. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to run away. She even began to unconsciously back towards the door once she had regained her feet.
“Hey, easy! I’ll make sure he won’t hurt you and if he starts taking it out on you he’ll have the whole band to deal with,” he murmured softly, his hand moving down from her shoulder to the small of her back to halt her retreat.
Raven looked up at Pogo, her hazel eyes looking even more wide and scared due to the make-up that surrounded them. Her blood red lips trembled as she looked back towards the stage. Whatever had happened had the singer ahead of them royally pissed off and she wasn’t sure if she had the bravery to face the rage that was no doubt amplified by his stage persona. “You’ll be okay hun, I promise,” Pogo assured softly, beginning to push her forward with the hand resting in the small of her back.
As they came ever closer to the slightly smoky entrance to the stage, Raven found herself desperately trying to swallow her fear. She knew that if she showed up in front of Manson scared out of her mind it would only fuel his rage. Taking a deep breath and turning to glance at Pogo for reassurance, Raven began to climb up the short set of stairs leading to the stage. To her immense relief, the mohawked keyboardist followed close behind; smiling gently at her.
As she started to turn to look where she was going she rammed right into someone. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” she gasped, looking up at the person she had run into. To her horror her eyes traveled up a familiar corset, to a shockingly pale, scarred chest and finally to the face of Marilyn Manson. All hint of the anger she had heard earlier had fled for raw lust as his mismatched eyes slowly roved her. A hungry, almost predatory look began to swirl in his gaze as his eyes lingered on the exposed tops of her breasts.
All of a sudden a tattooed arm wrapped around her, pulling her roughly onto the stage and flush against his body. A deep rumble escaped from the singer as he continued to stare at the exposed flesh of her breasts. Raven’s breath caught in her throat as he lowered his face to the crook of her neck, fear and arousal fighting for dominance within her. Manson’s arms tightened possessively around her as he growled against her neck, causing a slow ache to begin to build within her lower belly. A gasp escaped her ruby lips as he slowly laved his tongue along her erratic pulse. “S-sir?” came a timid, female voice; causing Manson to go stiff and pull only slightly away from Raven’s pale flesh.
“What,” he hissed, his voice gruff and throaty as he brushed his black lips against the alabaster flesh of the neck before him. The black haired female in his arms shuddered, small whimpers of fear and need leaving her lips. These small noises were only fanning the already roaring flames of lust within him and the singer found himself simply wanting to take the woman he currently held back to the trailer. At this point in time a stupid concert was extremely low on his priorities list.
“Th-the show is starting i-in a f-few minutes,” replied the obviously nervous female, drawing a low growl from the rock star.
“How bout you fuck off back to whoever sent you and tell them I’ll be out when I damn well feel like it,” Manson snarled before he bit Raven’s neck none too gently. Raven gasped, pain and arousal mixed in the tiny vocalization as she arched in his arms. The small female squirmed in his tight grip, her pale hands coming up to rest on the bare flesh of his chest. This only caused the performer to growl softly against her neck, tightening his hold as he licked her freshly abused flesh.
“M-manson,” Raven gasped, pushing uselessly on his chest in a futile effort to create some distance between them. This only caused the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ to snarl loudly and pull back enough to glare down at her. The amount of lust, rage and need in his mismatched gaze caused her breath to catch in her throat.
“Yeeeesssss?” he hissed, frustration evident in his voice as he glowered down at her. The steel hardness of his clothed arousal pulsed against her nylon covered leg, making it hard for her to really catch her breath.
“Hey, didn’t you have something planned Manny boy?” came a familiar chirp, immediately breaking the strange spell over the imposing performer. His head turned to Pogo who grinned insanely back at him before wandering onto the stage. With a low growl, the performer turned back to Raven, his burning gaze almost making it feel as if her skin was on fire.
Manson slowly released Raven, his eyes still fixed on the exposed tops of her breasts. “Indeed, thanks for reminding me,” he responded, his voice deep and throaty as rage and lust swirled in his eyes. Then, while smirking in a way that made a cold wash of fear rush over the black haired woman, the performer gave her cheek a brief brush with his fingers before making his way to the front of the stage.
As soon as his scrawny figure was in the middle of the stage and behind the mic stand, the light above turned on and slowly focused on him. Then one spotlight illuminated Tim, who was standing on the ground to the left of Manson. A grim look was on his painted face and his red lipstick smeared lips were curled into a snarl. Next a spotlight turned on over John 5, who was on the ground to the right of Manson. A bored look was on his make-up caked face as he looked out over the massive crowd. Two more lights came on above Ginger, who was on a platform on the left behind Tim, and Pogo; who was on a platform to the right behind John. Ginger clapped his drumsticks together briefly while Pogo rocked his keyboard back and forth on the spring it was mounted on.
A light, white haze began to rise over the stage as Manson took the mic off the stand and glared down at the massive crowd below him. The mass of people watched his every move raptly, holding their breath as they waited for their god to do something. A strange, almost cocky grin curled the performer’s black lips as he tilted his head back and spread his arms open. With a sudden, loud explosion, the lights behind the band came on as showers of sparks shot up from the sides of the stage. The cloud roared in appreciation, the people in the front swelling forward as one living being to try to touch any part of the performer.
Raven watched all of this from her hidden position on the side of the stage, her mouth hanging slightly open in awe. The sudden explosion had nearly caused her heart to burst out of her chest but she had soon been distracted by the sheer spectacle the crowd had become. If Manson merely waved his hand, he could get these people to do anything. The sheer amount of power he commanded over such a huge crowd was truly awe inspiring. “Are you sonsabitches ready for a mother fucking partay!” Manson screamed into the mic, causing a brief squeal of feedback that made the pale female wince in pain.
The response from the crowd was immediate and frankly a little frightening. The massive sea of people surged forward as one, thousands of hands reaching toward the stage as several screaming voices clamoring in an unholy jangle. It almost enough to make Raven run out on the stage to yank Manson away from the rim of the platform. “I can’t fucking hear you! I said are you motherfuckers ready for a fucking PARTY!” he screamed into the mic causing an even louder burst of feedback to explode from the speakers. Raven whimpered in pain, covering her ears as the crowd went absolutely batshit insane, the shrill noise still ringing in her ears.
His emaciated chest heaving and an almost prideful smile on his face, the ‘Prince of Darkness’ looked down upon his subjects. Smirking down at the thousands reaching for him, the performer merely waited until they quieted down. Once he had deemed the noise level low enough, Manson raised his mic and gestured towards the side of the stage Raven was hidden in.
Almost immediately her heart dropped down to the sole of her boots and all feeling in her body left, leaving behind only a faint, numb tingling. Surely he wasn’t going to do what she thought he was. Surely he wasn’t going to drag her out on stage and introduce her to the huge crowd. “Now, I happened to bring someone very special with me. She’s very shy so you fucks be nice alright?” he snarled into the mic, slowly making his way toward where she was hidden.
Hazel eyes going wide in horror, Raven began shaking her head in desperate negation as she backed up. There was no way in Hell she was going to be able to go on that stage and be introduced as his girlfriend. As she was backing away, she suddenly backed right into something rather solid. Craning her neck backward, the now startled female saw a rather burly security guard behind her; staring down at her placidly. Before she could even begin to try to move around the human wall, she felt a strong, very firm hand grasp hers.
Whirling to face Manson with panic stricken eyes, Raven found herself being tugged forward and onto the stage. “No, no, no. Oh god Manson anything but this,” she whimpered, beginning to drag the heels of her platform boots in an effort to stop the inevitable. Seemingly ignoring her breathless, desperate pleas, the rock star slowly dragged her to stand beside him behind the mic stand. Releasing her hand in favor of grabbing her corset clad waist, the grinning singer tugged her close to his side.
As Raven stood on the precipice overlooking the sea of people, they began to scream and clap. Her worried, hazel gaze roved over the huge pit of people until her eyes landed on something different. Mounted on large cranes on either side of the stage were two large movie cameras and both of them were pointed at the stage. All feeling promptly left her legs and it was all she could do not to slip to her knees. ‘Oh dear fuck, is this being recorded?!’ echoed in her mind, feeding fuel to the building wildfire of her fear.
Noticing that the woman he held was effectively frozen in place, Manson did the only thing he could think of. He reached down, grabbed her chin and shook it firmly until her eyes met his. Making sure she maintained eye contact, the rock star brought the mic back up to his lips. “This woman I brought on stage is a very important person in my life. Would you like to tell the crowd your name?” he purred, a smirk curling his black lips as he lowered the mic down to her.
Terror filled every fiber of her being as she stared up at him. Ruby lips parting slightly, Raven shook her head as much as his tight grip on her chin would allow. A look of disappointment flitted through Manson’s mismatched eyes as he raised the mic back to his lips. “Looks like she may need a bit of encouragement. All you guys cheer her on,” he commanded, turning to face the audience and holding the mic out over them.
The mic proved unnecessary as the huge mob began outright screaming encouragement. Whimpering unsurely as the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ turned back to her and lowered the mic back down to her, Raven closed her eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. After a few moments, she opened her hazel eyes and smiled nervously up at her expectant looking boyfriend. ‘Might as well just get this over with,’ she thought to herself.
“M-my name is Raven,” she whispered into the mic, looking like she would rather be running away. As it was, only Manson’s tight grip on her chin was truly keeping her in place.
Smiling triumphantly, the rock star gave her cheek a gentle caress as he brought the mic back up to himself. Just the simple show of affection was enough to whip the crowd into a frenzy of catcalls and demands to kiss her. “Maybe later you assholes! Right now shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say!” he roared into a mic. Though he looked severely pissed off, the satisfied smirk on his face gave away how he actually felt.
The sea of humans went quiet all at once, almost seeming to hold their breath. His smirk growing into a downright cocky grin, Manson moved the hand holding her chin back down to her waist and held Raven tight to his side. “This gorgeous woman you see with me on stage is my girlfriend,” he announced, turning to grin down at the female against him.
All the blood in her body seemed to rush to her face at once and all she really wanted to do right now was run off the stage and hide in the trailer. Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest and her face was doing its best impression of a tomato. As the crowd roared in immediate approval and even lascivious remarks, Raven huddled into the rock star’s side and hid her flaming face in her hands.
All of a sudden her chin was grabbed again and she found a pair of lips pressing onto hers possessively. At first Raven is all too aware of where they are, the fact its being recorded and the instantaneous catcalls and whistles. Seeming to notice this, Manson released her chin to wrap both arms around her and hold her against him. As his tongue began to lap gently, yet insistently at her lips, Raven slowly began to relax in his embrace. With an unsure whimper, the pale female’s ruby lips slowly opened to admit him.
Manson’s arms tightened around her slightly as he began to plunder her mouth with a low growl. The sounds of the crowd faded into a muted hum as the super star fairly possessed her mouth. Then, with another low growl, the now shaking rock star broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. As his burning gaze bored into her, Manson signaled to the band with the hand holding the mic.
With a sharp nod to Pogo, Ginger began tapping on his drums. After four beats John and Tim began playing a strange tune on their instruments. Pogo began to rock his keyboard gently as he began to add accents to the tune. Manson straightened as they began to play, a strange light coming into his eyes as he released her and stepped away. “I'll build you a shiny dollhouse or church for you to shrink into a tiny wight spider,” he began to sing, a slight bit of contempt slipping into his voice as he stared at Raven.
Raven’s eyes went wide as the song began. This was another one she hadn’t heard. Was it another new one she had inspired? “ And gorge on horrid memories with conceited wings,” he hissed into the mic, pity slipping into the contempt as he continued. His pale hand gripped the mic tightly as he began to pace along the stage in an almost agitated way.
“Smother the past in a cocoon or me,” he hissed pleadingly, impatience mixing with all the other emotions in his gruff voice.
“And I'll help you move all the bodies. Oh oh,” he crooned, impatience still coloring the tenderness that had overtaken his voice. As he sang this line, he slowly walked towards Raven until they were only standing a few inches apart.
“I'll possess you but I don't need you to be another one of my possessions,” he murmured softly, using one hand to gently cup her face briefly.
“I don’t need you to be my possession!” he belted out gruffly, impatience tinging his voice even more. It almost sounded as if he was a parent lecturing a wayward child.
“And I won’t make you kneel for anyone but me,” he growled out possessively, suddenly grabbing her and turning her so her back was pressed against his chest. Raven’s heart fluttered in her chest as she looked up at him almost fearfully.
“Won’t promise a star! Don’t promise your soul! We’ll say that we don’t believe,” he snarled dark promise and rage bubbling in his rough voice as he glared down at her. The very air around him was electric with aggression as well as lust.
“I'll keep you wet when the world is dry,” he growled into the mic, one of his hands slipping down her side until it came down to cover her skirt covered crotch.
Raven immediately gasped, mortification and arousal fighting a war inside her as he ground his g-string covered erection against her butt. In the midst of what was happening, she could almost swear she had heard the band behind them falter a bit in their playing. “You can see them coming. I’ll take you back inside,” he growled, his voice raspy and throaty as he moved his hand along her clothed womanhood.
Whimpering as her mortification rose along with her arousal, the trapped woman tried to desperately worm her way out of the rock star’s grip. Unfortunately this only caused him to tighten his grip. “Stay still,” he snarled angrily against her ear, the hand that wasn’t cupping her nethers wrapping around her waist even tighter.
“If they came for answers I'll wrap my claws round your mouth tight,” he growled, his voice very guttural as he slowly moved a finger along her clothed slit.
“M-manson please. Not here,” she whimpered softly, embarrassment prevalent in her voice with some arousal laced in. Behind them the band members were definitely starting to falter more and more.
“We'll consume each other until there's nothing left to hide and they can all drown in our blood,” he husked into the mic, obligingly pulling his hand away from her crotch only to cup her corset covered left breast. His steel hardness pulsed against her butt, drawing a slight hiss from the singer.
“I'll possess you but I don't need you to be another one of my possessions,” hissed the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ before he nipped her neck gently. This drew a gasp from Raven and a loud roar of approval from the rapt crowd.
“I don’t need you to be my possession,” he sang with almost heart breaking tenderness as he moved the hand he had on her breast back down to her waist.
“And I won't make you kneel for anyone but me,” he growled, anger and possessiveness slipping into his voice as his hand traveled southward again. Raven made a desperate grab for his hand, whimpering in embarrassment as she tried to keep the wandering appendage from going lower. With a heated glare down at her, the rock star pulled his hand free to cradle her womanhood again.
“Won’t promise a star. Don’t promise your soul! We’ll say that we don’t believe,” he rumbled, grinding against her butt as his fingers traveled over her covered slit.
“Manson, please stop. Please,” she gasped, trying to avoid the leers of the crowd watching the display. What had started as a public confession was quickly turning into a public sex show. Behind them the band faltered again, the drums stopping completely.
Manson whirled around to yell at Ginger just in time to be grabbed by the drummer and thrown backwards and away from Raven. The bleach blonde, acne scarred man glowered at his boss and long time friend before gently gathering the now shaking female into his arms. As soon as she was in Ginger’s arms, the dress wearing woman burst into ragged, embarrassed sobs and burrowed her now flaming face in his black shirt. Manson’s eyes narrowed at the sight of this, a low growl leaving his lips as he began to advance on the drummer.
Having long since stopped playing, the other members ran forward and grabbed the pissed rock star. Twiggy, who had the unfortunate timing to wander backstage at that moment, immediately ran on stage. The dreadlock wearing ex-guitarist’s long, pink dress flapped around his legs as he moved to stand between Manson and Raven. Whatever was happening, it was clear to him that the victim had been the poor girl.
“Let me go so I can beat the shit out of this asshole,” Manson snarled, his shoulder length midnight hair hanging in his painted face.
“You’re the asshole here Bri my boy,” Pogo hissed in his ear. The mohawked keyboardist currently hand his arms wrapped under Manson’s shoulders and was holding tightly. An insane grin spread over his lipstick smeared lips when the pissed singer whirled his head around to give him a death glare.
“He’s right Marilyn. You really went too far with that one,” John murmured from his position on the singer’s left. The bleach blonde guitarist had his arms wound tight around Manson’s side, trapping the performer’s arm against his body.
Turning back to look at Raven, his pissed expression slowly changed to one of regret. The shaking woman was currently hiding in Ginger’s arms, sobbing raggedly into his chest. As his stage persona slowly slid to the background the guilt began to wash over him and he felt sick to his stomach. He had just fingered his extremely shy girlfriend in front of thousands of people as well as a camera crew.
All of a sudden all emotion was replaced with white hot rage as his stage persona slammed firmly into place. With a low growl, the lithe singer tore himself away from his band members. Ginger immediately began to move away from Manson, holding the oblivious Raven to his chest. Yet, instead of heading towards Raven, the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ walked up to the rim of the stage. His mismatched eyes glared up at both cameras. “I will pay you both handsomely to erase that last few moments of footage,” he hissed, his eyes cold and hard.
While the singer was busy ‘negotiating’ Ginger swiftly moved Raven off the stage; the rest of the band, as well as Twiggy, forming a protective group around her. Both Jeordie and Ginger wound their arms over her shoulders supportively as the group led her to the safety of the bus. Once they had gotten the sobbing, shaken female inside, Pogo trotted over to the bar and began to fill a glass. “Now isn’t exactly the time Gacy,” Jeordie hissed as he helped Ginger seat Raven on the couch.
“It isn’t for me,” he replied solemnly, any hint of his usual grin gone as he came back and offered the glass to the still sobbing woman.
Raven looked up, her eye make-up staining her cheeks thanks to her tears. Sniffling shakily, she reached for the glass of amber liquid and gingerly sniffed it. Crinkling her nose at the smell, she looked up at Pogo with a disgusted look. “Ugh, I hate Brandy,” she grumbled before knocking back the glass with one swallow.
The entire band and Jeordie looked at her with awe as she winced in pain from the burning sensation the alcohol caused. Shuddering slightly, the still sniffling female handed the empty glass back to the keyboardist. “Thanks, I needed that,” she whispered, looking down at the carpet. She leaned forward on the couch, her bare arms shoved between her nylon wearing legs and clasping hands.
“You know, it’s some consolation the footage will be erased but it could have always been recorded on someone’s phone,” she whispered, her voice small and lost.
“Oh fuck Raven, I’m so sorry,” Ginger murmured, giving the still shaken girl a tight hug.
“So now what?” John hissed, glaring down at her with his arms crossed over his chest.
“What do you mean?” she replied, looking up at him with genuine confusion.
“You’re going to leave him, aren’t you?” the guitarist replied, raising a brow at her in confusion.
“Oh god dammit, I thought we’d been over this,” Raven groaned, leaning her head back for a brief moment and closing her eyes before snapping back up in a sitting position to glare at John 5.
“Come Hell or high water, nothing short of him beating me will make me leave him,” she declared, glaring at the guitarist.
Just outside the trailer, Manson halted and looked up at the open door. Instead of feeling happy at hearing her declaration, all he could feel was dread. Dita’s visit had planted some rather poisonous seeds within him that were already starting to germinate. With a last look at the light inside the tour bus, the singer pulled back and began to walk away. He would spend the night away and hope the time gone would help him get his head on straight. If things kept going as they were he wasn’t sure just what he would do.
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Tainted Love