Dear Bruce Wayne, alias Batman
Due to a calculation of your wealth, fame, and power as well as the words of our members... you have been selected to be a member of "Elite Desires". By becoming a member, you will be allowed access to the biggest secret of the world. The whole world is under mind control. Every last single person is under the control of The Company, of which Elite Desires is a small but popular department.
By accepting the membership, you will be able to control select people. Including the various superheroes and supervillains, as well as lesser people and celebrities. You will be given full profiles of anyone you desire, the command codes which will allow you to control non-members, and much much more. For a small fee, you will be given member ship. For bigger payments, you can buy exclusive access of different people. This is just a small taste of what we do.
So click the reply button and finish you acception to our little company.
Elite Desires
The Company
Bruce Wayne was not happy. This was beyond ANYTHING he'd ever encountered before. A global conspiracy that had the whole world under mind control. And he was finding out about it by being invited to join it. He wanted to say no. He wanted to rally the Justice League, the Avengers, fucking EVERYONE...
...And do what, exactly? He knew nothing about how the conspiracy was run, how they actually controlled people. The only way he'd be able to learn is if... he... joined... them...
Bruce Wayne stared at the email, reading it over and over again. He wondered if he'd been controlled before. Wondered if something he'd done in the past had been because someone working for 'The Company' had made use of him. They obviously knew his secret identity. He stared at it for over an hour, getting only a headache as he thought of how he could fight this without joining, but came up with nothing.
Grunting in frustration, he decided to play along for now. Better to be in and working on ways to fix things rather than being just another victim.
To The Company,
You obviously know of my double-life, and know how I'm going to react, so I won't beat around the bush. I am not pleased by being chosen as one of your 'Elite,' however I cannot think of a way to fight you at the moment. With reluctance, I accept your offer. Please send me the bill. Also, I would also like invoices included for exclusive control of the following people - Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, James Gordon, Harvey Bullock, Renee Montoya, Selina Kyle, Katherine Kane, Jean-Paul Valley, and The Joker.
Also, how will this work, precisely? Do I just say the codes? Also, will I be allowed to tell those in my immediate circle of the mind control, or will that be erased from their minds as soon as I speak it?
Wayne
He sent the e-mail. To his surprise, he got a reponse just a few minutes later.
Dear Mr. Wayne
We respect your willingness to protect your immediate friends and family. And yes, you cannot tell anyone about our delightful little conspiracy. Trying to warn people triggers a 'protected mode' where they become Company-loyal and remind you of our 'Terms of Service.' As much as you want to, Mr. Wayne, YOU CANNOT BEAT US. We've been at this since before En Sabah Nur was born. But because we're that sure of our control, we'll forgive you. Enclosed is the following invoices both for your membership fee, and for exclusive control of the others you mentioned. Because of how feisty we know you are, and because your question was so entertaining, we've lowered the prices we'd normally charge for them. Quite frankly, we're glad you're adding the Joker to your control. He's killed several clients before we could get control of him before.
That being said, Mr. Wayne, I don't think you truly appreciate what you have here. You've long since been sexually suppressed, not taking advantage of all the beautiful women out there. Certainly we know you are attracted to Ms. Kyle. Why not take advantage of that? She will be more than willing, as will any other female you take command of.
In addition to this, you're completely immune to the Anti-Life Equation now. (Yes, we've taken that into account.) Plus, you can make vigilantes like the Punisher never kill again. Or stop a supervillain just by ordering them to. Heck, you can even take out the Court of Owls entirely! We don't care, all belongs to the Elite! And since you'll be Elite once you pay your membership fee, all will belong to you too?
All you have to do is ask. All of our mind-controlled subjects recognize their masters. Your will is law. And I know you SAY you don't kill, buuuut if you encounter someone who won't do what you say... Well, we don't care how many clients we have, Mr. Wayne. And we know you've been trained by Lady Shiva. Hint hint nudge nudge wink wink.
With all due respect,
The Company
Bruce fumed inwardly. He wouldn't kill. NEVER. But he had to admit that there were some... possibilities... And would it hurt to indulge himself just once? He shook his head, clearing away the temptation. Time enough to deal with that later. The prices for everything were reasonable, so he simply wired the money from his accounts, following the instructions included in the invoices. He wrote one more e-mail.
To the Company,
Why? Why do all this?
Wayne
The response for the e-mail came even faster.
To Bats
Why not? >:3
Welcome to Elite Desires, Mr. Wayne. You now have something we know you've always wanted - CONTROL.
The Company
Bruce Wayne sat back in his chair, contemplating his fate. He shook his head, closing his e-mail for now as he tried to think of what to do. As he sat there, staring at his computer array, Alfred came down into the Batcave, bringing him some tea.
"I thought you'd like some refreshment, sir," Alfred said, setting the tea down. With it were some freshly baked biscuits. Bruce gladly accepted them, staring at Alfred for a long moment.
"...Sir?" Alfred asked, worried. "Is there something wrong?"
"...I apologize for this," Bruce said. "Alfred, I want you to say something completely inappropriate about... let's say Harley Quinn. Something disgusting and lewd."
Alfred smiled, nodding. "Well, if you insist," he said. "Ms. Quinn dresses like a tramp. She should have stayed with the original bodysuit. The way she dressed now, it's like she's inviting the entire world to come and fuck her like the tight little whore she is." He looked thoughtful. "Honestly, with that ass, I wouldn't mind pounding the peach back into her pale white skin." He looked to Bruce. "Was that good enough, sir?"
Alfred is a gentleman, Bruce thought. He'd NEVER say something like that, not even when asked. They weren't kidding about the control... "Thank you, Alfred, that will be all. Please go about your duties as you normally would, and rest when you feel you need to."
Alfred nodded "If you need anything, you know how to reach me, Master Bruce," he said, Bruce shuddering when he called him 'Master.' It was something he always said, but in the context of the situation... He sipped his tea, eating his biscuits, reviewing his options in his head even more.