After leaving the control room, Fink led Luthor to the Mental Conversion area of Bimbotech by way of his private elevator.
They exited the elevator into a long narrow hallway, with white walls and a series of doors spaced at regular intervals on either side going its entire length.
Fluorescent lights ran along the ceiling; giving it the drab atmosphere of a hospital waiting room.
This illusion was shattered by the very loud and passionate orgasmic cries that would come from behind different doors; the sounds of women reaching the climax of their transformation into Bimbo’s
Lex mused to himself how there was apparently no spot anywhere within Bimbotech where the sexual vocalizations of Bimbo’s couldn’t be heard; it was Bimbotech’s very own theme music.
Lex would never publically admit, but in his short time at Bimbotech had made him almost a connoisseur of such things.
The two men strode purposely through the hallway.
A freshly converted platinum blond Bimbo stumbling out of a conversion room searching for cock to ride presented a momentary distraction.
Lex and Fink easily sidestepped her and went to the end of hallway and entered the very last room.
Fink walked up to the Conversion Chair at the center of the room that had been modified to extract the information about the enigmatic Oracle from the mind of Batgirl.
The chair its self was largely unchanged; paneling on the ‘mind helmet’ support beam had been removed exposing the electronics underneath.
From this three wires grew out of it like vines sprouting from the side of a wall.
They went down the side of the chair and across the floor to the apparatus Fink’s people had erected directly in front of the chair.
The device looked to Lex like an oversized Tuning Fork crossed with a leaf blower.
It was set level with the head rest of conversion chair, welded to a tall black metal Saw Horse.
“We originally thought we could just use one of the conversion chairs.” Fink said as he turned to face Luthor, “Recalibrate its settings to a more sensitive level or even operate it by hand.
But its base routines are too entrenched. The danger that the info desired will be sublimated before we got it proved to be too great.
The chair is a sledgehammer and we need a scalpel.”
“Luckily we already had the scalpel” he continued, “As strange as it may sound Mr. Luthor, not every man is appreciative of Bimbotech’s efforts.
Angry fathers, boyfriends, husbands, sons or just meddlesome busy bodies.
You’d think they’d be pleased with how happy we’ve made the women in their life.”
Fink chuckled to himself.
‘Private joke’ Luthor supposed to himself. The Bimbotech CEO proudly patted the two pronged head of the tuning fork/leaf blower and resumed his explanation.
“It’s not brainwashing.
More like a realignment…an adjustment. ‘The Tuner’” Fink said naming the device, “beams a Hypnotic suggestion through a Beta wave directly into the cerebral cortex.
It produces a subconscious argument for Bimbotech, bimboization and bimbo’s.
This works in concert which neural pulses sent through the eyes.
They re-wire the neurons of the brain so that the idea of Bimbotech and are work cause pleasure.
Even those adamantly opposed will eventually come to a ‘proper’ view of things.”
Fink ran his hand up the length of The Tuner.
“We’ve actually had a great deal of success sending this Beta wave/neural pulse through things like an e-mails or embedded in a DVD.
This device will produce a far more concentrated version for faster results.”
“Once Batgirl and her little friend have been delivered into our capable hands, they’ll be run through the BodMod process, Batgirl will then be parked in front of the Tuner and Bada-Bing!” Fink snapped
his fingers to emphasize the point. “Oracle!”
“Why BodMod Batgirl at all?” Luthor asked, “Why not use the Tuner straight away?”
“Insurance” Fink answered, “We may not be able to use the Conversion Chair at it full potency, but we can still use its more ‘Pleasurable’ settings.
It will provide the perfect offense against whatever sort of psycho mind skills the Batman may have taught her.”
Fink stepped away from the tuner to the side of the Conversion chair.
“Besides, once the info is extracted why waist the time in not giving Batgirl that Bimbotech seal of approval.”
“And what of the recovery issue?” questioned Luthor, “I find the length of time it takes for your subjects to recover from the BodMod too long.
It leaves us exposed.”
“Not to worry” replied Fink, “we’re about to institute a new transformation formula.
It’s based on the Kryptonite you gave us. Initial tests show it will cut recovery time to nil.”
Luthor nodded his head in satisfaction of Fink’s answer.
There was the loud beep of a cell phone; Fink reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Reading the screen, Fink looked up at Luthor and smiled: