Introduction: The context of my story is based on the "daily life" – an over generalized term really - of Amy Rose and she is she is the most centralized Sonic the Hedgehog character I will present in the story but if a certain plot requires the introduction of other characters then I will consider adding them to the storyline. Amy is unlike her main character but not OC in a distasteful way, I have considered some of her staple traits but since I find the events in my storyline to be somewhat disjointed and disparate with the canonical Amy Rose I have considered some changes. I find it that her personality cannot coalesce with my storylines so I tend to provide juxtaposition and Amy's character is perfect for introducing contrasts. Her character is mature, she is a young adult, I do not wish to provide a certain age since I believe it to be trivial and useless to the story.
The storyline weaves on post-modern elements and is centralized on themes such as but not limited to existence, society, internal struggles, crime, dreams and bizarre events earning a "General" genre as the story subject, I also do like to experiment with humor. Most events involve Amy and an event, the happenings can be anything from dull to dramatic. There is profanity, prevalent violence, sexual themes and drug use earning this story an M rating, I am not here to appeal to the likings of 14 year olds so youngsters please move on to other stories (you don't have to if you don't want to :D). There is no striking plot in the overall structure of this story and whatever begins in a chapter will probably end in that chapter or continue in two or three parts at most. My goal here is to portray fragments of complete events not a strict and confined storyline. Course of events in a certain chapter are not inexorably chained to one another in any way unless stated, consider each chapter a "short story" or a contribution to a novella.
I have a knack for explaining details and nuances scrupulously, this might bother some readers but will surely enhance your reading experience. I'm not wordy for the sake of being wordy but I tend to look for the best words when I explain an event so some words may seem unfamiliar but overall I'm inclined toward a moderate to high vocabulary selection. In some chapter the point of view might change, from third person to first person. Yes there is lemons, in fact we are making lemon juice!
Disclaimer: Fuck the disclaimer, if I owned Sonic the Hedgehog would I even be sitting here and writing fanfic?! No, would I? FUCK NOOOO! I would be rich and indulging in promiscuity and bacchanalia.
Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home (pt. 1)
It was the same six o'clock rush hour, the moribund silence of the metro station had risen into the clamorous sounds of citizens moving back and forth from a day of labor. The clickety-clang of steel wheels slowing down in the station for a stop, the klaxon of metro operators speaking over the PA system, the rustling of clothes, the shoes of passers by tapping the pavement was a symphony in itself, a threnody of the working class, the salary man, the indigent and the bourgeoisie. If you felt dozed from your 9 to 5 grind, surely this piece would rush blood to your brains and put your consciousness into gear. As sunset finally began to reign over Station Square she reached the premises of the metro station, from the corner of her eye she realized how blotches of orange and crimson hues of the sun & horizon shone off the high glass buildings and sky scrapers which led to a second realization, the days were beginning to fall short and these were the final fragments of summer, remnants.
She let out a disheartened sigh and finally led herself toward the underground stairs, heading down while taking a sip from her coffee cup. Without much delay she blended among the crowd, the sound of a guitar could be heard from somewhere near, that sound was all too familiar. Buskers would gather around at this time to make some pocket change. Amy was all too familiar with the ritual of these folks and would sometimes drop a nickel or a dollar to her favorite busker since treading inside here was one of her daily routines after work. Though she would never pay attention to what he sang she would always just walk by but could discern a voice, something that echoed words to a lyric:
"…I didn't really want to get
Involved in this thing
Someone handed me this... and I…"
All she knew that he was a purple hedgehog with an outlandish hairstyle and disoriented clothing, a "cornucopia of colors" she would describe it, she didn't know his real name but in her mind he was the epitome of the word eyesore, it was as if a magical creature had barfed the seven colors of the rainbow on him. Nevertheless she enjoyed his grainy voice echoing loudly inside the tunneled walkway, it would never get lost in the hubbub, like a big red kite soaring under a blue sky. With each step she took toward the gates, the sound faded in the rowdy ambiance till no pluck of a string was discernible.
Sky station was an intricate piece of modern underground architecture, signs and symbols floated at every corner or passage, each a codex for navigating the cityscape that is Station Square. Amy knew her way around the labyrinth quite well and walked swiftly across the intersections and pathways without tending to look at the signs, she arrived at her station waiting for the train to arrive. A plethora of citizens were on standby, standing on the edge of the precipice and some impatiently bending their necks to search for a dim light in the tunnel. She was starting to get impatient as well so she reached for her leather handbag and ran her fingers through a clutter of objects ranging from cosmetics, Kleenex, tampons and sanitary products and the usual tools of the trade but sadly she couldn't find what she was looking for, her mp3 player which she had just realized it was left at the stand near the door at her crib. She felt vexed, lassitude had breached every joint in her body, her only source of deceiving comfort was the squeaky plastic chair she was leaning her back on.
"You seem pissed too, don't you?"
She mumbled to herself while rocking back and forth on the chair, abusing the rundown chair, the only meaningless replies were a bunch of metallic squeaks and squabbles.
"Well so am I"
She kept looking at her slender silver wristwatch as space and time dwelt on relativity, the dials turning in fatigue. Staring at an unidentifiable distance she began fantasizing on what she'd do when she finally arrives home? She just wanted to undress and submerge herself slowly in a warm hot tub, to wash the filth and grime of the city out of her system, to pour some wine in a Bordeaux glass and let it aerate while taking long sips letting the cedary taste sink into her tongue, to finally sleep on her comfy mattress and rest her head on her soft purple pillow. It was the weekend and boy could she sleep till 1:00 PM. The blitz of the train awakened her from day dreaming, only eight more stations left Amy Rose…
... After her long itinerary she finally reached the pavements leading to her apartment. It was around 8 o'clock and night had blanketed its perpetual shade over the heavens. She walked slowly with a flaccid stature, her hand bag flagging on her left hand and her key's jangling with dull vibrancy. She slid the key and as the lock unlatched, a curt sound indicated she was finally home, she kicked the door slightly and crawled inside.
"Oh great, they still haven't fixed that heap of junk elevator! People of Station Square Amy Rose will now attempt to conquer 5 floors of stairs without killing anybody! Guinness world records, follow me on this one!" She spat those words begrudgingly and went up the carpeted stairs, carrying her burdensome body. The staircase was quiet and dimly lit, random household sounds would vibrate in the air whenever she passed beside some of the doors. After reaching her front door she once again slid the key with a bunch of dangling keychains that might just tear the door knob off due to excessive weight! With a slight push from her shoulders she opened the door.
"Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts." Quoting Oliver Wendel with a tired, jittery tone while bending down and yanking her black glossy high heels aside with one hand. Inside was dark and dim, she then flicked the light switch while setting the dimmer to acquire the right luminance to meet the mood of the hour. Inside the domicile was well furnished, a comfy light blue sofa furnished with lots of colorful throw pillows was located at the main hall, facing it was a plasma TV bolted on a colorful designed wallpaper. A big and rectangular mahogany coffee table laid at the middle, adorned with large scented candles. It was cluttered with magazines, the daily gazette, to books, leftover tea, coffee cups and cigarette stubs. Lots of little trinkets, souvenirs and paintings hung and stood from many corners and branches of the main hall, showcasing her fine taste & aesthetic. The wooden flooring slightly creaked as she walked toward the arched hallway. Desperate for some comfy and loose clothing she stepped inside her room noticing a draft.
"Hmm, where's that breeze coming from? I must have left the window open! And the blinds, better shut em' down"
She took off her work clothes, removing her loose blue blouse then taking her red skater skirt off. she reached for her comfortable PJ's when she suddenly realized that she should rather visit the shower first, since that was what she wanted all the while during the ride back home. The comfort of home brought her so much relief that it was like water to fire, it had blurred her planned chill-out activities. She walked toward the bathroom at the other end the hallway.
A slight resonance whirred inside the bathroom as she opened the door, she noticed her visage on the mirror and ran her hand through her face like it was alien to her, analyzing her skin, it was vibrant and glowing but caked under a substratum of languor and the polluting particles of the city. Her eyes still glistened its ethereal green glow as she saw them tiredly looking back at her. Her hair was much longer now, resting on her shoulders towards her breasts.
"Ugh, look at me, my face is like a mild and residue magnet. My face is about to peel off! Amy Rose, you are as dirty laundry to detergent. I know how to fix this..."
With an ebullient shift in tone she quickly sprinted toward the kitchen near the main hall searching for her favorite Cabernet Sauvignon wine for the night, picked up a Bordeaux glass and grabbed a box of matches from the cupboard and closed it with a loud bang while heading back to the bathroom. The match ignited, she lit the large cylindrical candles positioned on the long and slender candlesticks towering near the bathtub. The flame on the match was fading so she quickly grabbed another match and passed it on with the dying flame. To really set the mood she burned some incense, the spicy, rich and sweet woody scent diffused in the air, infusing her nose with a feeling of detachment from the world. The candlelight's shone, their flames still and lull, dimly lighting the corner of the bathroom. Its opaque reflections visible on the dark blue ceramic of the wall.
With a turn of the faucet a stream of hot water ran into the bathtub distorting the ambiance. She began to undress while the bathtub began to fill with refreshing water. With her right arm she unsnapped the satin violet bra, freeing her tumid, opulent and creamy breasts from the bra. Without further hesitation she pulled down her matching panties while sitting on a plastic stool. The garment rustled its way through her sleek and svelte legs until it reached her toes, with a prankish attitude she tossed it upwards with her foot till it hung from the towel rack, something she mastered over the years of bathing and cleaning and ended the deed with a roguish giggle. Bare-naked she opened the medicine cabinet to look for her favorite bath salts, with a few in hand she headed near the bathtub, it was replete with hot and soothing water.
She turned off the faucet and hit the lights. The dim candlelight pierced through the vapor trails indicated that it was hot enough. The tablets plopped into the water and without further delay she slid her leg into the water. The effervescing bubbles slightly tingled her skin, telegraphing instant gratification to her face. Her other leg joined the sensation as well as she stood in the bathtub, the steam billowed around her thighs, creeping its way up to her sumptuous behind. She bent down and submerged herself completely in the steamy water, surrendering with no defiance and melting like an ice cream in the summer heat. She let out a gratified sigh as the heat and bubbles worked their way around her joints and muscles, assuaging her exhausted frame and mind, burnishing the dust and decay of yesterday, today and tomorrow. The scent of wine diffused in the air as the ruby stream filled the tall glass, she took a whiff of its scent and let it aerate while rocking the glass in a circular motion and eventually taking modest gulps. Everything was in harmonious synergy, the candles caressed her eyes, the scent rejuvenated her tired brain and the bubbles promoted perennial relaxation. She swayed her arms in the water, watching it ebb and flow, listening to the sound of the ripples dancing in the water. It was time for a more deeper detachment, so she buttressed her head with a towel and laid supine while closing here eyes...
... Lying dormant for a good 15 minutes, after the delightful chill out phase her thick eyelashes batted open. It was time to give her body a full on rinse. She fixed her position as she leaned on to her side and grabbed her hanging loofa sponge. With a liberal amount of body wash she began burnishing and scraping through her skin, softly spreading the lather on her arms watching the suds slide and drip off them. Water splashed and churned as she stood up and applied the lather on her gleaming abdomen, grabbing tight to the sponge and sinking it on her skin in a circular motion then working her way up to her breasts leaving a thick layer of foam. She ran the saturated loofa on her pelvis then into her crotch, giving it a few sensual strokes. It was that time of the month again and her hormones were boiling these days and a lingering sexual urge waiting to be satiated so she fondled a bit with the loofa in there as she said in a rather peeved and solicited tone:
"Sonic, how could you be so blind to miss this? Leaving a girl like me so horny?"
Her sexual desires were analogous to a latent volcanic mountain, waiting to reach a climax and spew forth incinerating streams of climactic nature. Judging by her flushed cheeks and shallow breathing her continuous stimulation may have seem to stretch beyond just two or three harmless sparks to ignite a weak sexual flame. No, this was like igniting a trail of fuel ultimately leading to an inferno. The wine certainly had letup her awareness, she was in a shallow state of emotional emancipation. Tossing the loofa aside, she stroked her right hand on her vagina while she held tightly to her left breast. She was magnetized to her own self as she witnessed how the foams and suds had given her a mind blowing image. With strong circular motions she was chipping away the crusts of her everyday outer façade, leading to a tractile mantle of sexual ambivalence. With increasing sighs and moans she said in an airy tone:
"Oh this feels so good, I can always rely on my fingers when it's a dryspell down there!"
"Whoa! Better not fall and bust an arm"
With a change in stance, she put one knee on the side of the bathtub for support then grabbed the extended shower drape pole. The sloppy sounds of her hand on her vaginal wall was like music to her ears, she masterfully was conducting the technique of self-stimulation. She would smack it, rub it and caress it with a sheer article of faith. If she was to come, she needed something of a higher caliber, for all that was done till now was just the warm up phase. Spreading her legs a bit wider as she stuck a finger into her love tunnel, stopping momentarily at the G-spot she tingled it as it pulsated joy all over her body. Treading deeper the finger was encapsulated in a tight and warm haven, secreting with womanly juices. With every throb her moans grew more intermittent, one finger wasn't enough so she slid another one in to maximize the pleasure, gaping the already tight vaginal walls. She just had to climax, that was what she was working for all this time, chipping away to her molten core of flowing lust and desire.
"Oh…my god…I…I'm…going to… to cum… so bad…"
Her face and body was tightening, the hand tightened its grip on the shower curtain pole to brace the body for a summit of sexual release. She could hear her heart beat with fervent ardor, with two fingers drilling away.
"aaaaaaaaaaah, ohhhhhh my fffffffffucking goooooood I'm cummmminggggg!"
while moaning a roil of pleasure washed over her body, quivering and jerking spasmodically initiating a salvo of orgasms and throbbing her deepest caverns. Her body arched forward with extreme acuity, powerful enough to tear the pole and send her flying toward the tiles. Her soul was to detach and never come back again, the eyes severely closed. After spending a few minutes and enjoying her satiated state while hanging from one hand, she eventually changed her post-orgasmic stupor and decided to tend back to her sanitation while breathing very lightly. She leaned and grabbed the floating loofa while smirking at it and resumed her bath with a much satisfied look on her face. Kneeling forward to clean her legs while some of the suds and water trickled on to the floor. After several minutes of scrubbing she submerged back once again in the tub then unplugged the stopper and hopped into the shower to get any excess soap off her body and quills. Snugging her wet feet into her pink sandals she grabbed a big white towel and wrapped herself in the dryness of the fabric. The dry bath rug rustled as she rubbed her wet feet against it and finally headed toward her room. All was silent at home, the air still and monotonous but little did she know that this was the silence before the storm…
Note: The piece of lyric at the top is "Killer" by Alice Cooper, property of Alice Cooper and Warner Bros. (damn, did I just give out a clue?)