"What can I do for you, Mr. Reese?" Lucius Fox, business manager of Wayne Enterprises, asked, not even glancing up from his paperwork as his underling stepped into his office.

There was an air of smugness to Mr Reese today as he seated himself. "You wanted me to do the diligence on the LSI Holdings deal again. Well, I found some irregularities."

"Their CEO is in police custody," Lucius reminded him.

"No, not with their numbers, with yours." He knew he had Lucius's attention now. "Applied Sciences. A whole division of Wayne Enterprises just disappeared overnight. I went down to the archives and I started pulling some old files." He placed the blueprint of the Tumbler armored vehicle down on the desk - the mothballed project indistinguishable from the 'Batmobile' save for a black paintjob. "Don't tell me you didn't recognize your baby out there pancaking cop cars on the evening news," he sneered. "Now you got the entire R&D Department burning through cash, claiming it's related to, what, cell phones for the Army? What are you building for him now, a rocket ship? I want... 10 million dollars a year for the rest of my life."

Fox, to his credit, had an excellent poker face. "Let me get this straight. You think that your client, one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the world is secretly a vigilante who spends his nights beating criminals to a pulp with his bare hands and your plan is to blackmail this person?" He smiled. "Good luck."

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Six months later, Mr Reese pressed the intercom on his desk. "Sweetcheeks, could you see me in here please."

His secretary minced into the room. Reese rather enjoyed the skintight lycra he mandated as her dress code - not only for how it showcased her meaty, silicone rump, which wiggled wherever she walked, but as a cruel reminder of the superhero Wayne had once been.

Reese patted his knee. Obediantly, the secretary perched herself there. She was wearing the floral perfume he'd bought for her, and her make-up was flawless this morning - he liked the shade of lipstick she'd selected, particularly knowing it would be smeared around his shaft by the end of the day. But the thick layer of foundation couldn't quite conceal the dark lines under her eyes.

"You've been going out at night again, haven't you?" he chided her gently. She shook her head mutely. His hand was working its way up her thigh towards the hole he'd installed between her legs. "You know how dangerous that is for you in your current state. Besides, what would people think if they saw you in an alleyway? Certainly not a crimefighter, that's for sure," he chuckled, mocking her whorish appearance. "Remember, your priority is me, your boss. Nothing else."

"Yes, sir," whispered Wayne as the fingertips rubbed against her artificial womanhood.

"Oh, I can't be too harsh with you. You've such a sweet nature, always trying to help people. If it matters so much for you, I'll see if my company can spare something for a charitable donation. Something to help get criminals off the street. Perhaps... 10 million a year."

"Thank you, sir." Wayne acknowledged the jibe silently. It was the original blackmail demand. Mr Reese's subsequent demands had been far less generous.

"Good girl," Reese smiled warmly, lifting her off his knee and sending her on her way with a pat to her inflated rump. She staggered towards the door on her 9-inch stilettos. "Oh, and send Fox in while you're out there, won't you?"