The Adventures of Roxy Rocket! Ch. 02

"Look, don't take me back, please?" she hopelessly begged. "I only escaped because I'm trying to be a better person." She could hear how ridiculous that sounded right after she said it, and made sure he knew she was aware of that. "Okay, I know that sounds backwards, but it's true!" Batman remained stoic and kept her walking. "I only have two months left on my sentence, what's the harm in getting out for a little good behavior?" Still no response. "Fine, I didn't have the best behavior, but it's just so boring in there!" she pleaded with, finally getting to the core of why she didn't want to be locked up in there. "Nobody fights me anymore because I'm too good at it, and nobody fucks me anymore because they're afraid to get hurt then, too!" she revealed. With a smirk, she saddled up a little closer to his side and looked up at him with big eyes. "Well, if you are going to send me back, how about you help alleviate some of my pressure? Might help me to keep from escaping again..." She proposed, yet still no response. "You know, you were a lot more fun when we were rocketing toward a cliff."

Batman made sure to walk her all the way back to her cell. From the entrance, through processing, to get her new clothes, and back to her cell. All the inmates watched. Some laughed, some cheered, some directed their reaction not at Roxy but at Batman, throwing all kinds of terrible things at him. Batman stood by while Roxy was placed back into her cell and the gate was closed behind her. All she could do was pout, hoping she could have found a way to get out of the jam she had put herself in. Batman started to walk away, but Roxy wouldn't stand for that. She needed at least some reaction out of him. She hated to be ignored.

"Aren't you going to say anything to me?" she yelled at him with frustration. To her surprise, he stopped in his tracks.

"When you get out," is all he said, peering over his shoulder to speak the words, and then he began to leave again. Really, Roxy had just wanted to hear his voice again. That gravely, deep, commanding voice that could force the rain to stop if he only asked it to. She wanted to rebel against that voice. She wanted to be told she was a bad girl by that voice. She wanted to hear her name called out in anger, frustration, joy, and bliss in that voice. For now, she would just have to settle for those four words that put a smile on her face.

"When I get out, eh? It's a date, Bats! See you in two months!"

------------Six Months Later------------

Much to her dismay, Roxy was unable to keep the promised two month date with Batman. Her little escape attempt had landed her another four months in the slammer. Her lawyer said she should consider herself lucky that she only got four months. To Roxy, though, it may as well have been four more years. The time trudged along at a snail's pace. Especially since she was looking forward to seeing Batman again and was forced to wait three times as long as she thought. She figured the only reason she didn't get more time was the guard didn't admit fully what had happened. He certainly didn't want to confess he was having sex with an inmate, and he was too proud to admit a woman had knocked him out. Still, she was out, and he still had to work in a place she considered to be the most boring place on earth.

Roxy exited the prison wearing what she arrived in. Form fitting black leather pants that showed off the wide curves of her hips. Brown boots that allowed her to have better grip on surfaces she was leaping off of for her stunts. Slung slack on her hips was a brown belt and holster, though she obviously hadn't had the gun returned to her. The belt was too wide for her waist, but stayed up only through the virtue of her generous hips and full, luscious, ass. A thin black top with a deep cut to show off her lovely breasts, and of course the brown bomber jacket that completed her outfit. She carried her helmet and goggles in her hand, the only other item she possessed.

She was met with more disappointment when she saw no one had arrived to pick her up. She supposed she should have called someone to set up a pick up time, but it completely slipped her mind. She was too focused on the interminable boredom she suffered. Then, her ride did in fact arrive.

Pulling up with blazing speed and stopping on a dime was that car she had heard so much about and dreamt of having for herself one day: the Batmobile. The top opened up like an expensive convertible, pushing up and sliding back, and revealing the caped driver within.

"Get in," Batman said in that voice that fueled many fantasies she had while in prison.