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The Riveting Adventures of Roxy Rocket!	By : LithiumHobo Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 5962 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Roxy Rocket, the Batman series, or any other character appearing in a DC related feature.

Chapter List
- 1-The Riveting Adventures of Roxy Rocket!
- 2-Issue 02: Curious Encounters
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There were no shortage of hiding spots in Gotham, with all the dark alleys and abandoned warehouses and factories. However, the criminal element loved to inhabit said shadow-streaked safe-houses, and worse yet, the dark knight prowled seemingly everywhere you weren’t supposed to be – and being an escaped convict that meant pretty much everywhere for Roxy Rocket. Her intentions, she believed, were pure in that she wanted to ditch her villainous ways and become a hero, but breaking out of prison she knew was not a great start. She would have to prove herself before she could feel just a little bit safer in Gotham with Batman always about.
But first she needed a place to hide, find some new clothes, and then set off to get all of her supplies in the morning. Sure, she was planning to become a good girl (more or less), but she wasn’t about to ditch her rocket. That baby had been good to her, and she didn’t see the need to totally reinvent herself. However, her current situation didn’t lend itself to getting her on the fast track to “heroville.”
She was certainly a sight, particularly in her current condition. A light drizzle of rain has been blanketing the streets she wandered, coating her skin to give it a gentle glow and shine, the many street lights bouncing off her exposed curves. Her torn orange shirt was clutched tight to her bosom in an effort to provide warmth and a vain attempt to give herself some modesty – vain as it only served to press her breasts closer together and form a deeper cleavage than had she just let them alone. Still, better a notable valley between her heaving breasts than to have her girls on full display as she darted from shadow to shadow. Her hair was ruffled, though it always seemed in such a state with it cut so short, and her makeshift prison makeup was running quickly from the slightest exposure to moisture. At least her legs were hidden with her long prison pants, but she was regretting her decision to opt for a size-too-small model as her legs still showed off their feminine curves as the now damp fabric clung to her stems. Dripping wet, obviously in distress, alone and, frankly, very attractive. Yup, she needed to find a place to hide and fast.
Alas, Roxy’s escape was not to be as uneventful as she had hoped. Sure enough, her provocative attire and Gotham’s knack for causing trouble in every corner possible worked in tandem to thrust Roxy right into the situation she least wanted to be in (well, almost the least – the worst case scenario would be being caught by Batman, thus setting a new record for shortest time between escape and re-imprisonment). In true Gotham fashion, Roxy found herself flanked by a few members of the seedy underbelly.
It began innocently enough, that term used quite lightly, as these events often do, with a few choice cat calls aimed at Roxy’s various assets. She ignored them, defaulting to a state of apathy for surrounding annoyances in favor of directing her primary attention on the task at hand, which was finding shelter from the elements and law enforcement, official or otherwise. However, when she felt the unshaven hairs on one man’s chin scrape against her neck, and firm hand squeeze her ass with very little humility and grace, that’s when she came to two conclusions: one, these men were dangerous and not simply interested in verbally venting some sexual frustration, and two – she was far more dangerous than they were.
It did not speak well for the male population that her two most recent encounters with men were both sexual and aggravating in nature, though not the least bit surprising, Roxy thought. Still, if both male encounters were to start with sexual desires, both should end the same way too, she concluded. The first step was to assess the risk involved. Being a stunt woman forced her to study every situation from every angle and determine the level of risk involved. For most stunt actors, this meant avoiding situations that proved too high of a risk level – quite the opposite for Roxy. However, it wasn’t as if she could just opt out of this scenario if it proved too risky, so her skill in risk assessment would serve to judge her actions within it for now.
She didn’t need to see their faces to know how many there were. Definitely at least two, judging by her increasingly groped body, as her breasts were now being felt up by another man – unless the first man had two right hands (thumb placement was key). A third could be placed by the nefarious chuckle coming from further behind her, further than his arms would be able to reach at least. There could be more, sure, but she could act on three for now. She played the intrigued street worker for a bit, grinning and allowing the pawing to continue, her body being squeezed like some grocery produce, in order to lull her victims to lower their defenses, let them think they had less risk involved than they actually did.
That was step two, of course. First you assess the risk, then you do what you can to lower it. Usually Roxy ignored step two (hell, if she could help it, she would do the complete opposite in order to elicit a bigger thrill), but tonight was the first night of the rest of her life, a time to do things a bit differently. For this case, the guys needed to feel in control, put them at a sense of ease and thus lower the risk for herself. Right at the point where thug one put something metal in the hem of his pants so he could free up a hand to pull at her clothing to expose her breast, that’s when she knew she had the right amount of advantage.
The men were foolish to offer up their hands to her so easily, she thought, as she grabbed the two on her tits and twisted his thumbs around. No need to really take out the other digits, at least not yet – break the thumbs and the hand is useless for handling a weapon. Now the other goon, he was a bit of a problem because he was so close to the first assault, so he could easily retaliate on behalf of his now screaming comrade. Thankfully, this lack of distance also allowed Roxy to continue her attack with very little interruption. Being so close to the wall, she decided to spin around and slam her arm into the side of his head, putting her weight behind the swing and sending the man into a short trip to the wall; this dazed him long enough for turnaround completely and take a few steps back to see what kind of damage she had left to do.
She had to deduce the situation quickly – when you break some bones in a couple of guys who were just about to rape you, their adrenaline tends to heighten and they get fast and stupid, both factors to make the situation all the riskier. Normal people would run away at this point, take the opening and run, but not Roxy. When things got tense, dangerous, and adrenaline was surging, Roxy got horny. Roxy was no psychopath (that’s what kept her out of Arkham in the first place), just a tad unhinged, so she knew not to just jump these boys and fuck ‘em, but she didn’t know to leave well enough alone and live to finger herself to a climax later. No, Roxy had to have more of those juices flowing, so Roxy had to keep fighting.
The thugs threw what they had at her, which wasn’t much, and like their sexual advances their violent ones lacked grace and subtlety. Roxy made short work of the three amigos, leaving at least one broken bone or large bruise in her wake each time they took a run at her. Sadly, the ease of this fight meant her thrills were dwindling fast, and the risk of injury and death were fading faster and faster. In shorter time than she’d like, the guys were off running scared, calling her a psycho bitch and making up excuses as to why they couldn’t beat her.
“Yea you better run, creeps!” She cried after them. “No one lays a hand on Roxy Rocket without her say so!” That declaration would come at a cost, as identifying herself like that just made the next assailant all the more ready to do what must be done.
Slipping out of the shadows and landing softly on the ground, a dark knight peered out of the blood splattered alleyway and reached out to Roxy’s collar, gripping it tight and yanking her back into the shroud granted by two looming buildings. This time, Roxy was caught far more unaware than before, and had no time to prepare what she should do next, so she did what those guys before her did – act stupid. Roxy shot an elbow back against the chest of her fourth challenger, hoping to knock some air out of their lungs and give her time to breathe while they struggled to do the same. Instead of hitting some broad chest or even some concave slope of a skinny crack head with nothing to lose, she hit something soft. What’s more is that her stupid counter did little to deter her capture and quickly found herself thrust up against a brick wall still laced with thug blood and bits of teeth.
This one was smart, Roxy thought, as she was pinned against the wall with her arm twisted behind her back and her other wrist gripped and pinned against the wall. Her wrists would reunite, however, when the familiar clicking of handcuffs was heard. Another familiar sense caught her attention – that of a pair of breasts pressed against her back. A generous pair, perhaps a bit bigger than her own, but that could just be the body armor this woman was wearing, judging by feel of it against her as her challenger pinned her. Confirmation of femininity was made when she spoke, though her tone was far from soft or elegant, but rather curt and to the point.
“I don’t know how you got out, Rocket, but you’re going back in,” she declared to Roxy before finishing with the handcuffs and then turning her around so she could face her.
Much to Roxy’s dismay, she had been captured by a bat, but this was no tall, dark, and brooding bat. No, this was one of the fairer members of the dark knight family: Batgirl. She was a bit taller than Roxy, with fiery red hair that flowed out from under her cowl. Full, pouty lips were wasted in her grimace, and striking green eyes leered at her from behind that same cowl. Now that she had her apprehended, she took a step back to give Roxy some space and herself some safety in distance from a cornered criminal.
Roxy, still fresh off her high from beating up this ruffians, re-exhilarated by her sudden capture, looked Batgirl over with lustful eyes. Her outfit did her justice, formed to fit her every curve. It wasn’t some latex suit or cloth, but a body armor that had be molded and crafted and set just right to fit her – and it modesty wasn’t on the list of attributes. She could assume that this form-fitting uniform was made just in this fashion to showcase Batgirl’s womanly curves and help to distract the typical criminal (hell it was working on Roxy a bit), but a woman of such high moral standing would doubtfully admit to that. Roxy chewed on her lower lip a bit before speaking, getting it plumper and fuller to help in her next move.
“Well well, gotta say, I’m disappointed to be caught but I’m just giddy that it was you, Batbabe,” Roxy spoke, granting the fair knight a pet name as most villains do (she’d have to get out of that habit if she wanted to be taken seriously as a crime fighter). “But you see, those guys came onto me and were about to cut me up something fierce, or worse,” she explained, twisting against her cuffs and wiggling her hips back and forth just a bit to get her attention. Roxy had no idea if Batgirl would be interested in women, let alone a recently apprehended criminal woman, but she wasn’t against trying if it got her out of a pinch (and if it let off some of her steam in the process, all the better). “So if you could just undo these cuffs, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I’m well aware what they were trying to do, Roxanne,” Batgirl replied, showing no change in her attitude toward her, and even using her real name – a trick Batman taught her; it was supposed to strip the villain of some of their power, force them to retreat to their past and force herself to see them as people, still, and show some restraint (a habit hard to keep with such murderous villains in Gotham). “In fact I was about ready to take care of them myself before you went all psycho on them and sent them crying.”
Roxy had to roll her eyes at several things that came in reply to her plea for freedom. “Psycho? Oh please, if I was psycho, I would have been sent to Arkham, and my escape would have been muuuch easier,” she reasoned, teasing Batgirl with the fact that Arkham inmates were notorious for escaping on a weekly basis. “Besides, I did my time…more or less. Can’t you just look the other way, gorgeous?” Roxy again begged, throwing in more flattery to try and lower Batgirl’s defenses.
“More like less, Roxanne,” Batgirl corrected. “You have three more weeks left on your original sentence. With a jail break and then three counts of aggravated assault you’re looking at about another year, year and a half tops.”
“What?!” Roxy dropped her act for a moment at that revelation, and then began to struggle more against her cuffs. “That’s so unfair! The only reason I broke out was to start a new life! I want to be a hero, like you!” Roxy realized how corny that sounded as it came out, but once again she was cornered and acting on impulse and stupidity.
Now Batgirl’s grimace faded a bit, to be replaced with a smirk of amusement and pity. “A hero? Roxy, you’ve been in and out of jail numerous times. You’re a thrill seeker, an adrenaline junkie who will just take bigger and bigger risks until you get yourself or someone else killed. Being a hero is about sacrifice, but not in that kamikaze way that you live.”
Roxy was about to continue her vain attempt to negotiate, when she realized that Batgirl called her Roxy. It was a minor slip up, but it was enough to bring Roxy Rocket back into the game! “I guess you’re right…” she started, speaking into her chest with her head hanging low, ceasing her struggles to really drive home her acceptance of her fate. “I’m a criminal and that’s all I’ll ever be. I had a good job as a stunt woman, but I fucked that all up just for some cheap thrills.”
Batgirl, being a bit more empathetic than her teammates, felt a pang of guilt at Roxy’s refusal to continue her path to redemption. That was why she got into the hero-villain racket anyway, to stop criminals and maybe, just maybe, redeem them. It happened rarely with low level thugs, but it practically never happened with bigger names. Sure Roxy was no Joker or Clayface, but she was a criminal of note and if she could be redeemed, it would be a huge net gain for the good side. “Look…I didn’t mean it like that,” Batgirl replied, but quick to adjust herself back to her original stance, “You still have to serve your time, you can’t get away from that, but that doesn’t mean you can’t turn your life around. Hero work may be a bit too much for a newly released prisoner, but there are other ways to be a hero than just punching creeps in the alley.”
Good, she thought, now she had her talking, had her distracted. A common trick heroes pull on villains is to get them talking, play up their vanity and arrogance and get them distracted while you plan your next move. “I dunno, maybe you’re right. I’m just…tired of it, you know? Being directed by my need to seek out new thrills, challenge my body and mind, push myself to every limit and new experience just so I can feel that surge of adrenaline throughout my body, from my toes to my head and everywhere in between. Mmmm,” she moaned, “it’s the best! That tingling feeling I get in my legs. That little knot in my stomach when I know something really big is about to happen. Every part of my stands at attention and begins working in overdrive! Oh it’s almost enough just talking about it!” Roxy cried out, the whole time she was squirming where she stood, wanting to race her hands up her body and cup her curves to her form and appreciate life. “But…it’s not,” she unclimatically finished, hopefully leaving Batgirl distracted and unfulfilled.
Roxy was not a master of body language, just a very good study, but even she could tell that Batgirl was falling into her trap. She stood just a bit differently, like she was hiding something. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and, most telling of all, she was nibbling on her lips, just before licking them clean and putting back on her brave hero face to deal with Roxy.
“Whatever you choose to do, Roxy, it’ll have to wait until after your sentence is up, come on,” Batgirl concluded and walked back over to grab Roxy by the cuffs and escort her back to prison.
Roxy moved quickly, she had to capitalize on Batgirl’s apparent arousal while she could. She lunged at her when she felt Batgirl couldn’t make a move against her fast enough, and sure enough she landed her first blow. Her dark, supple lips pressed hard against Batgirl’s brighter shade, but equally full, lips. Roxy’s first thought was that she tasted divine. So sweet and heavenly, Roxy almost lost sight of her goal here. Still, wasn’t any reason she couldn’t enjoy herself while she worked.
Batgirl was obviously still a bit taken back by this given how tense she felt against Roxy’s body, and how little her tongue reacted when Roxy’s own came for a visit in her mouth. Still, she wasn’t fighting back, so Roxy felt confident that her move was a success. Though form-fitting, Batgirl’s costume still had that layer of body armor that made it hard to really nuzzle up against her, but Roxy put forth that effort anyway, pressing her breasts against Batgirl’s and grazing her thighs against the caped crusader’s. Roxy kept the mood going by giving plenty of moans whenever she took a breath from the long kiss, and giving some choice nibbles to Batgirl’s lips when she could. And that’s when the most wonderful thing happened – Batgirl kissed back.
Roxy had to admit she wasn’t ready for that. She just expected Batgirl to be dumbfounded long enough for her next move, but here she was throwing Roxy another curve. Speaking of curves, Batgirl sure knew how to appreciate Roxanne’s. Roxy felt those gloved hands smooth their way down her waist and over her hips, sneaking around to cup her tight tush and squeezing just the right way to elicit a squeak out of the dare devil. The grope forced Roxy to arc her back and press her tits more against Batgirl’s, wishing desperately there was far less Kevlar between them.
Another wish granted, though sadly not the anti-Kevlar one, as Batgirl’s gloved hand retreated from appreciating Roxy’s bum and moved to appreciate her tit. Roxy was swimming with bliss. The night had been full of sexual disappointments and now she was getting felt up by one of the hottest women the city has ever seen – and no one could put a definite face to her! She only wished she could return the favor and feel Batgirl up too, but alas she was still bound at the wrists behind her back. Just as well, Roxy couldn’t think straight enough to show her the proper respect once Batgirl dipped her hand into the orange shirt and started to massage her firm breast. Even with the glove on it felt wonderful; the fabric so surprisingly smooth. Her brown nipples stood at attention and were tweaked by hands that were practiced in manipulating the body, though usually to subdue criminals. All the while Roxy did what she could to return the affection with her mouth, treating Batgirl to the best kiss she could manage.
That’s when things really began to go beyond Roxy’s control, what little she had left anyway. Once Batgirl stopped kissing her, Roxy was sure that the jig was up and the redhead had come to her senses and was going to take her to jail without delay. Instead, what she got was the fiery minx beginning to nibble down her neck and stop at her breasts, taking a tit in one mouth and massaging another with her hand while her tongue, teeth, and lips all did what they did best to her most sensitive region on her torso.
The point at which Roxy was snapped back into reality, due only to the sudden spike in pleasure, contrasted by her inability to join in on the fun so her focus was allowed more toward less sexual matters (you know, the boring kind), was when Batgirl continued to travel south, following the defined ridges of Roxy’s abs and giving long licks along her hips’ defined arcs that led past the hem of her ever-less-important-pants. She chewed her lip, this time out of contemplation and finally regret rather than arousal (though she was still very much aroused). She hated herself for this, but her escape was paramount and orgasm or no, she knew Batgirl wouldn’t let her go scot free after tonight. Relunctantly, but with no less vigor or precision than was needed, Roxy threw up her knee and struck Batgirl square under her jaw, forcing her to bite her tongue just as she was about to stop her teasing and really get down to business. Pained, Batgirl recoiled back, and before she could figure out what she had done wrong, other than go down on a criminal in cuffs, her cheek got hit as well, this time by Roxy’s thigh, and next her foot.
Roxy hated herself for this, interrupting what could possibly be a mind blowing orgasm she so desperately needed and for damaging such a gorgeous face, but she had to act quickly and decisively. With Batgirl knocked out cold, Roxy did her best to rummage against her the caped crusader’s hips, throughout her belt, to try and find the keys to her cuffs. It wasn’t long before she could hear Batgirl moan, and not in the nice way she was enjoying before, and still she had no keys. She had to get out of there, and with her she took Batgirl’s belt, both to get those cuffs off later and to hopefully hinder the redhead a bit longer so she could make good on her escape.
But damn did she need to cum and at this point she didn’t care how or with whom.
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The Riveting Adventures of Roxy Rocket!