Growing Needs (Centaur, Shemale, Growth, Commission)

Story by Tosaku No Kishi

Another commission from one of my patrons, Sovietspyder.

Bright lights faded in and out around Mia. They were blurry, unfocused, but she could tell they came in long strips. Loud bangs and shouting voices echoed in her eardrums, though the ringing in her ears refused to let any words through. She couldn’t smell anything but copper, intermixed with the sharp odour of bleach. Her mouth was awash in a flavour that made her want to vomit, however that was impossible. There was something on her face, yet she couldn’t tell what it was.

Then everything went dark for a long time.

Mia’s eyes shot open. She ran a hand through her sweaty hair with a groan, then glanced at her alarm clock; 6:42AM. School wasn’t for another two hours. Another groan preceded a disgruntled nicker as she stood up, hooves clicking on the hard, linoleum floor of her government funded home. Even after all those years, she was still adjusting to the way her body moved.

Lights clicked to life around her as she entered her spacious bathroom. Her coat could do with a good wash after that dream, though it was more akin to a flashback. Mia pulled off her shirt, sighing softly when her breasts bounced into freedom. Had she been a normal human, they would have netted her several boyfriends already. As a centaur, however, most were intimidated or freaked out by her appearance.

Not that she could blame them. Mia paused in front of her mirror, one large enough to reflect her inhuman body. After an accident when she was on the cusp of womanhood, she was left completely paralysed from the waist down and orphaned. The details of the incident were hazy, the best explanation being a serious car crash. Mia never experienced being a paraplegic, though.

Without any known relatives or guardians to contact for permission, she was given an experimental – highly experimental – transplant. For reasons that were still unknown to her, her bottom half was replaced by that of a horse. But not a mare as it should’ve been, given Mia’s obvious gender before. It was a stallion’s body, which complicated several matters for the young girl.

The most obvious was having to learn to walk. Through means that went over Mia’s head, her body had acclimated almost perfectly to the equine. Her nerves, muscles, blood, cartilage and so on were all connected. The stallion had been young, a near equal for Mia’s own age at the time. Walking came quickly thanks to an expert physiotherapist. Living with two sets of hormones pumping through her, however, was another matter.

No matter what the hospital and specialists tried, her bodies were at war with one another. At least for most of her teenage years. In the end, she could argue that the benefits spoke for themselves. Mia shook her head as she glanced down at her lower half’s reflection, noting the heavy sheath that bobbed and swayed beneath her second belly.

She put most stallions to shame in that respect, while her upper body did the same to human women. Mia tore her eyes away and walked into her specialised shower stall, the water jets activating shortly afterward to douse her in warmth. The perks of having an unauthorised surgery performed on her was that she became an invaluable research subject, as such they paid for her living expenses and made sure she was content. In return for several monthly tests.

Aside from being the first centaur, Mia’s life was relatively normal. She finished high school with decent grades, managed to get accepted into her college of choice, and even managed to get a few friends who didn’t treat her as a novelty. For a time, she was famous simply for existing, then the fame wore down and she became a spectacle, but not one that caught everyone’s eye anymore. Of course, there were always going to be people who tried to shame her for something of her control.

Mia grunted as she tried to fit her bra. Her breasts were unnaturally perky on their own, barely sagging enough to stave off the accusations that they were fake, but a she preferred to wear the undergarment. It was comforting for her to use something meant for humans. Though, now, it tried hard to remove that comfort by constricting the life from her bosom. Mia grunted and gave up, letting it fall to the floor.

“Must’ve shrunk,” she decided and grabbed a newer set, but met the same results, “Or maybe not.” Mia sighed, hands moving to weigh her abundant bust. The mounds felt almost impossibly heavier, enough that most women would brush it off. Mia, on the other hand, had to notify her doctors of the change. If her body was still developing, then they needed to know.

Mia eventually managed to locate a bra that wouldn’t bite into her breasts. It was still uncomfortably tight, but she could ignore it. The centaur tugged a shirt on, grimacing at how taut the fabric stretched around her chest. It barely reached wher

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