Perfect Form

Dr. Ava Moreau stood in her design studio, surrounded by holographic projections of human bodies in various stages of modification. Taller, shorter, muscled, lithe, multiple limbs, enhanced sensory organs, skin that changed color with mood—the possibilities were endless when flesh became programmable.

She'd designed them all. Every body in the projections was her creation, commissioned by clients who could afford to remake themselves into whatever they desired. In post-scarcity Earth, where basic needs were met and technology had advanced beyond scarcity economics, the ultimate luxury was the body itself.

And Ava was one of the best body designers in Europa City.

Her workspace was a converted warehouse in the artistic district—massive windows overlooking the sprawling megacity, walls lined with tissue samples and genetic sequencers, holographic displays showing anatomical models that rotated slowly in the air. It was part laboratory, part art studio, all temple to the mutability of flesh.

"Dr. Moreau?" Her AI assistant's voice interrupted her contemplation. "Your 3 PM appointment has arrived."

Ava checked the schedule. A new client—name listed only as "Kael," no other information. She'd accepted the appointment because the consultation fee alone was substantial, and the project description had been intriguing: A body designed for pure sensation. Maximum pleasure potential. Willing to push boundaries.

"Send them in," Ava said, composing herself into her professional persona.

The door opened, and Ava's breath caught.

Kael was beautiful in a way that transcended simple aesthetics. They stood about 175 centimeters tall, androgynous features that could read as masculine, feminine, or neither depending on angle and lighting. Their skin was naturally dark but seemed to shift slightly in tone—subtle biomod that suggested taste and wealth. They wore minimal clothing, probably to show off a body that was clearly modified but elegantly so: lean muscle that moved with inhuman grace, fingers slightly longer than baseline human, eyes that held flecks of gold that caught the light.

"Dr. Moreau," Kael said, their voice a perfect androgynous register. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Of course. Please, call me Ava." She gestured to the consultation area—comfortable chairs, holographic display ready to show design concepts. "Your request was intriguing. Tell me more about what you're looking for."

Kael settled into the chair with fluid grace. "I'm an artist. I work in experiential design—creating immersive sensory experiences for others to inhabit. But I've reached the limits of what my current body can experience. I want to push further. I want a form designed specifically for sensation, for pleasure, for experiencing reality at its most intense."

"That...