To say that Amber was nervous would be an understatement. She was terrified. She knew intellectually that she was qualified for the job. In fact, she was an ideal candidate, but in the high stakes world of publishing, who you knew was often more important than what you knew.

That had been the whole reason she’d moved out here in the first place. Her home-town had afforded her plenty of opportunities for her education, but Amber had her sights on being an author, and she felt that getting a career in publishing was the best way to make that happen. That meant moving to the coast.

The waiting room was small but tremendously artsy. Whitewashed walls with black finish were decorated with abstract chrome artwork that was interesting enough that it almost distracted her from the fact that there were no windows. This was one of the bigger publishing houses, and she almost hadn't bothered applying, but she had nothing to lose--what was one more rejection letter? So she emailed a copy of her resume and quickly forgot about it. She couldn’t believe her luck when she received an email requesting an interview the next day.

It had been a mad scuffle, digging through boxes to find interview-appropriate clothing, and even then she couldn’t find her one decent pair of dress pants, she eventually settled on a black pencil skirt that she’d bought a few seasons ago, not realizing it had become more than a little too tight after the last few months of stress-eating.

Even sitting in the air-conditioned office her thighs pressed together down to her knees and the area between them was uncomfortably warm. She tried to adjust, but at the moment, her thighs were nearly completely stuck together and nothing short of standing was going to peel them apart.

The woman on the other side of the room eyed her warily. Amber did her best to give her a friendly smile, but the other woman just rolled her eyes and looked back down at her phone. She was the standard west coast type. Blonde, well-dressed, and five times taller than she was wide. Amber did her best not to hate her immediately.

It’s not that Amber wasn’t pretty, far from it. Her heart-shaped face and wide eyes put her firmly in the stunner category, but she was bookish, short, and on the thicker side... especially the past few years. She’d thrived in college, but late nights studying and the long hours parked in front of a keyboard had accentuated Amber’s already bottom-heavy figure. Freshman-fifteen became Sophomore-sixty, and before she knew it, her natural hourglass shape became significantly weighted toward the bottom. She was definitely wider than she’d been a year ago if the way that her hips strained her pencil-skirt was any indication. It wasn’t a change she’d even noticed at the time, but the way people looked at her now was hard to ignore.

Her butt received a fair bit of attention, much to her chagrin and though not all of it was negative, the passing glances and raised eyebrows made her want to run away and curl up under a blanket. She looked at the woman across from her up and down. She was maybe a foot taller than Amber and had barely an ounce of fat on her. What if the interviewer spent the whole time looking at her body? How could she prove her expertise, if their whole impression of her was based on her bust, the way her belly pressed outward against her blouse and, most importantly, the width of her hips? Amber shoved those insecurities aside, aware that they were irrational but unable to completely silence them.

“Amber?” a voice called from the doorway. She looked up to see a middle-aged woman with sly eyes and a sharp suit staring at her. The woman’s eyes darted over Amber, sizing her up. Amber gulped involuntarily. “Thanks for waiting,” she said brightly. “Come into my office.”



Amber stood, feeling her thighs unstick with a gentle pop that sent tiny jiggles through her behind. She hoped that the skirt wasn’t so tight that those jiggles were visible to anyone else as she followed the woman into her office.

In contrast to the waiting room, the office was well lit by a large window and more tastefully decorated. The woman sat on the other side of an expansive desk of dark wood and crossed her arms as she looked at Amber.

“So,” she started. “Let's not waste any time. Why do you want to be a part of our company?”

“Well...” Amber started, taking a deep breath as she sat down in an armchair. She sunk down deeper into the cushiony fabric than she’d expected, but continued. “I’ve been working in technical writing for the past few months, but my real passion is--” She cut herself off as she felt the pressure of her thighs loosen with a gentlle pop. the blood drained from her face. Had her skirt just ripped?

The interviewer looked at her concerned. “Your real passion is…” she prompted.

“Right,” Amber continued, snapping back to the interview. “My real passion is speculative fiction. In fact, I wrote my senior thesis on the way that speculative writers have impacted American literature.” She turned to retrieve her thesis from her bag. This time the rip was audible and Amber’s eyes widened. Slowly she turned back to look the interviewer who was leaning over her desk to peer at Amber. She seemed more confused than upset.

“Is everything alright?” She asked. “Did you tear something?”

“Ummm…” Amber started. “No. I just… I’m sorry, I wasn’t prepared for this interview I should go.” She placed her hands on the armrests of the chair and tried to stand, but for some reason, she wouldn’t budge. “What--” she started looking down at her lap only to be greeted by thighs that completely filled the seat. She yelped and there was another rip, this time up the front of the dress exposing more soft-creamy flesh.

“What’s happening?” The interviewer demanded standing up from her chair.



“It’s nothing.” Amber insisted, dropping her thesis on the floor as she tried to force herself up, but her expanded hips wouldn't budge. “I just… I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?” the other woman asked, coming around the desk and stopping in her tracks once she saw Amber’s exposed thighs. The rip in the front was slowly creeping up toward her belly and was getting dangerously close to exposing her underwear. “Those weren’t that big when you came in.”

“I don’t--” Amber started. There was a tremendous crack as one of the arms of the chair broke off and Amber went stumbling out of her seat, thighs, and hips wobbling as she tried to regain her balance. She looked down at herself. She was huge. If her butt had been big before, it was truly enormous now with thighs and hips to match. Her modesty was barely maintained by the scraps of skirt that hung between her legs. She grabbed at them tugging them down to better hide her panties and glanced up at other woman who stood there with a look of shock on her face.

“I’m so, so sorry, I… I have to go!” Amber shouted as she turned to run out of the room.



“No, wait!” The interviewer called after her, but it was too late. As soon as amber collided with the door frame she was stuck fast, exposed behind protruding several feet into the other woman's office. There was a moment of silence. Amber looked up at the blond still sitting in the waiting room who was staring at her, mouth agape. She turned over her shoulder to see the woman who had been interviewing her standing with one hand on her forehead, eyes glued on Amber’s enormous rear-end. She finally looked up at her.

“Can you get out?” She asked quietly.

“I think I might be able--” Amber started but there was a cracking sound as a final burst of growth logged her securely in the doorframe. “...No,” she said, defeated.

It took about half an hour for the fire department to arrive. They crowded around the expanded woman and finally decided that the only solution was to cut her from the door frame. The blonde had long since left the waiting room and Amber couldn’t bring herself to look behind her at the woman who had been giving her the interview.

After several minutes of work with a buzzsaw, the door frame finally broke, and Amber stumbled forward on legs thicker than her torso had been only minutes before. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t just her butt that had grown. All of her had been covered with an extra layer of fat that hadn’t been there when she’d woken up that morning, though the focus was definitely on her lower half. She remained on her feet, but wobbled embarrassingly with each step and had to hold down the tattered remains f her skirt to cover where her panties had long since burst off.

“Sorry about your door...” Amber said quietly. “...and your chair.” she sucked in a deep breath willing herself not to cry.

“Amber?” The other woman asked as the firefighters wrapped a blanket around her. She looked over her shoulder to see the woman holding her discarded thesis. Had she been reading it this whole time? “You wrote this?” she asked. Amber nodded, not trusting herself to answer out loud. The other woman’s eyebrows knit together. “Once you’ve got this all straightened out, give me a call. I’d like to see how soon you could start working with us.”

“Are…” Amber started. “Are you offering me a job?” She asked.

The interviewer shrugged. “We’d probably need about a week to widen the door to your new office, but if this is the quality we can expect from you, I think you’d be an asset to our company.” She looked up from the papers and made eye contact with Amber. “Assuming you accept my offer.”

Amber’s eyes widened but a smile finally spread across her face. “Next week sounds perfect!” She said as the firefighters led her away, making sure she passed through the next door sideways.

All in all, despite its embarrassing beginning, her interview had gone better than she’d expected. And despite her increased weight, she felt lighter, and happier, than she had in months.