It's >this< close to completion (91.5k words out of a planned ~92k). One of the main characters is a woman transformed into a centauress
Marian - a bit reluctantly - shut the water off in her custom shower. Since it had finally been installed she had come to love the thing. The actual work building it in her quarters at the Center had taken less than a week. However, that had been preceded by months of paperwork and bureaucratic hassle. Even the Center's attorney repeatedly pointing out that it was for someone with access problems had done little to grease the wheels.
"Still," said Marian, smiling as she turned on the forced-air dryer, "it was worth the wait."
Like the shower, the dryer had both fixed nozzles and a hand unit on a hose. The hand units were both on extendible wands, to help her reach anywhere on her awkward body. She still hated having to go to so much trouble just to wash - she had to buy Mane and Tail by the gallon - but at least the process was both easier and much more dignified, now.
She walked - naked and still a bit damp - into the main part of her quarters, deftly dodging around the huge waterbed. That was the only piece of furniture in the room not intended solely for the storage of clothing. Though even that had drawers in the pedestal, since there were no closets. Laying on that distributed her weight evenly enough that she could be comfortable. Tiger had - a bit undiplomatically - assured her it could hold more than a ton.
She pulled a drawer open and was about to grab a bra - she still didn't have a huge selection, but just having _some_ was a major improvement - when the intercom buzzed. Even before Marian could get to it, Pinky began talking.
"Bouncer call!"
There were also noises in the background, the sounds of a loud argument and activities more unusual.
Marian gritted her teeth. Pinky wouldn't call on her unless the matter was urgent and no-one stronger was handy.
She slammed the bra drawer shut and yanked open the one for her t-shirts. The one on top was a custom job Adamant had given her. It was plain white garment of heavy cotton, with the words "Four on the Floor" printed in large, block letters on the front.
Marian headed for the door as she pulled the snug triple-extra large shirt on. She hated going out wearing only that, but this sounded like an emergency. She barely got the bottom tugged into place before reaching the door. Quickly closing that behind her, she hurried to the stairs and down.
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