A tiny, hyper busty, submissive sex doll.

Your fingers dance through the neural interface, pulling at categories and sliders with practiced confidence. The template body shifts and morphs under your mental touch.

You start with height—dragging it down, down, down. The form shrinks until it stands barely four foot nine. Petite. Doll-like. The proportions adjust automatically, but you override them, pushing the bust slider to extremes. The chest swells outward, breasts growing to impossible H-cups on such a tiny frame. The back arches to compensate, creating an exaggerated curve. You thin the waist to twenty inches, widen the hips just enough to balance the top-heavy silhouette.

"How's it going?" Morgan asks from behind you.

You keep working, sculpting the face next. Large eyes, full lips, delicate features. Every aspect calibrated for maximum cuteness, maximum appeal. You adjust the age appearance to twenty-two—young, fresh, innocent-looking. The body type shifts to 'extreme endomorph' with fat deposits concentrating in breasts, ass, and thighs while keeping the waist narrow.

Kim leans in to check your progress. "That's quite a dramatic transformation," she says neutrally. "The structural support systems will need significant reinforcement for that chest-to-frame ratio. The software's flagging potential balance issues."

"Can it be done?" you ask.

"Everything can be done," Kim replies. "The nanotech will build the necessary muscle and skeletal density. They'll be able to walk, move normally. It'll just be... noticeable."

You dive into the endocrine system next. Oxytocin production tripled. Dopamine sensitivity increased by two hundred percent. You program in submissive behavioral markers—reduced assertiveness hormones, heightened response to approval and praise, increased bonding drive. The libido settings go to maximum, arousal threshold lowered dramatically.

"Subject profile indicates extreme sexual responsiveness," the AI announces. "Permanent arousal state likely. Difficulty concentrating on non-sexual stimuli probable. Confirm design?"

Morgan shifts behind you. "Riley? What are you making?"

You pull out of the interface, the neural crown lifting from your head. The screen shows the rotating figure—a tiny, impossibly busty young woman with delicate features and exaggerated curves. Every parameter screams sexual object, designed for pleasure and submission.

"This," you say, turning the screen toward Morgan. "This is what I'm making you."

Morgan stares at the image, mouth slightly open. Their weathered seventy-three-year-old face shows confusion, then something else—arousal? Uncertainty? "That's... that's me? I'll look like that?"

"Yes," you say simply.

Kim sets down her tablet. "I need verbal confirmation from Morgan that they consent to this specific design before we proceed to finalization."

Morgan keeps staring at the screen, at the tiny hyper-sexualized body that will be theirs in just a few hours.