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Description
The story narrates the emergence of Angela's true self - John's girlfriend. She always felt like she wasn't being true to who she really was. She adhered to society's false standards of appearance and behavior. She thought she liked it, but in reality, she often experienced inexplicable bouts of depression without knowing how to change the situation. John managed to understand what could reveal her true self and how to feel comfortable in her own body, even though it wasn't easy and the path to adaptation was tumultuous.

I looked at Angela, her long red hair, and asked her:
"Angela, what do you think if we change your image?"

"What are you talking about, John?"

"I remember you as you were before, with a short haircut, a cute shaved nape that I could touch and feel a slight tingling sensation. I enjoyed grabbing you by it, experiencing the contrast between the longer hair and the short nape."

"But John, I didn't like having a short haircut. I was almost bald with a mushroom-shaped hairdo. I can get a bob haircut if you really want."

Realizing that Angela was adamant, I decided to take decisive action.
"I understand you."

"What do you understand, John?"

"I understand that sometimes we have to take our happiness into our own hands."

"What are you planning?" she asked, sounding frightened.

"Trust me."

I waited until she fell asleep. Sometimes, she sleeps so soundly, especially after a little alcohol. So, I decided to have a bit of wine with her. She drifted off, and I began my actions.
I sat her on a chair and grabbed an electric razor and scissors. I tied up her hair at the top with a band and shaved off the unnecessary hair from the nape up to the top, leaving only a short stubble. When I let the hair down from the top, the effect wasn't noticeable since her hair was still long. I cut it to shoulder length. The hair fell to the floor like autumn leaves. Then more. And more, until the beloved stubble appeared. I trimmed the hair to make it symmetrical and even. Then I moved to the front, cutting her bangs short up to her eyebrows. She hated bangs, but I loved seeing her with them. That's how she was meant to be. It was her true image, even if she rejected it.
There was only one problem left. Angela never wore earrings. I considered it an oversight, but I had prepared in advance and bought a pair of gold hoop earrings. I disinfected the earlobes and pierced both ears, inserting those earrings that looked very natural on her.
The final touch remained. Coloring her hair in a darker shade. By the way, it was the easiest part. After the dye dried, she was perfect. I couldn't take my eyes off her, realizing that a woman couldn't be more perfect. She looked like a doll, and I wanted her to stay in this image forever, and I would make sure of it.

She woke up.

"What happened, John?"

"Take a look at yourself, dear."

She burst into tears like a child upon seeing her former, so hated image.

"What have you done? Why?"

"Because I love you. That's how I loved you."

"Ouch!" she exclaimed in pain. "Earrings?! I never wore earrings, and I never intended to."

"But you need them. You look like a real woman now, never take them off."

"But John..."

"Don't argue. Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you love me as much as I love you?"

"Yes, John."

"Then don't argue. You look more beautiful and adorable than ever. Let's trim your hair once a week so it doesn't grow too long, agreed?"

"...Agreed, John... But... I'll have to get used to the idea that I can no longer have long hair."
"You don't need it. You look best this way."

"Maybe you're right. You know better."

I untied her, and with sweet eyes, she asked,
"Do you really like me this way?"

"Madly, and more than that, I love you just the way you are."

"I won't change, for you."

"My girl."

"Yours." She passionately kissed me, realizing that I was right and embracing her own sensuality.

"Actually, I would like to change something else about you."

"Isn't that too many changes?"

"There's no limit to perfection. I would like you to gain weight."

"Absolutely not."

"Listen, how much do you weigh now, 51 kilograms?"

"Yes, and I make a lot of effort to maintain this weight."

"Nonsense. Imagine your appetizing thighs, a chest that sways with the slightest movement. And when you walk, they will boldly attract attention..."

"But, John..."

I continued,
"And a little round tummy, a chubby, round tummy that will protrude at the same level as your chest. And after meals, you'll regularly drink two liters of soda to round out your tummy and expand it from the inside, making it more natural. After that, it won't be easy for you to lose weight because you'll be changing your body type."

"I don't know, John. I'm afraid it will become too difficult for me... How many kilograms do you suggest I should gain?"

"Not too many, actually. Around 25-30 kilograms would be enough, and then we'll see. Just think about how happy we'll be."

"I'm scared, John. I've never been overweight before."

"Not overweight, Angela, well-nourished. A healthy, natural woman."

"But I won't be able to wear tight-fitting clothes anymore."

"You will, in fact, you'll have to wear only leggings and tight-fitting tank tops in front of me, so that your protruding tummy with its folds shows through those tops. Are you ready to do that?"

She examined herself in the mirror, moving her head so the earrings would sway.
"It feels so weird," she said.

But I noticed that her nipples became more pronounced through her tank top.
"Does it turn you on?"

"I don't want to admit it, but this image really turns me on. And it scares me. I feel both sexy and unhappy with myself at the same time."

"You know I'm right, but you resist. So I'll create a diet program for you, and you'll eat as much as I say."

"Fine..."

"But remember, you won't be able to lose weight."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Only one correct choice."

"Okay, John. I trust you. I hope you're right, and I'll like myself in a completely new look."
"That will be the case, trust me."

I grabbed her shaved nape, slipping my fingers under the longer hair, feeling the emptiness beneath.

"You're perfect," I said, feeling the coldness from her new earrings with the back of my hand, which added femininity and delicacy to her.
I created a meal plan for her, and for the next few months, she had to gain at least 10 kilograms.

She ate without getting out of bed, and I brought her food to prevent her from burning precious calories. Gradually, I started noticing her curves becoming fuller. One day, she said,
"John, my clothes, they're too tight. They squeeze my body, and it hurts."

"Finally... Well, get on the scale."

There was a plus of 13 kilograms.

"For now, just walk in a robe or go naked if you want," I playfully said.

"Will you buy me new clothes? I have nothing to wear outside."

"Of course, darling. Today, I'll go to the plus-size section and buy you a couple of form-fitting dresses, some T-shirts, leggings, and low-rise shorts."

"Oh, John," she moaned. "Stop it, you're turning me on."

"And you turn me on with just your appearance, baby."

I kissed her, and I could already see the results of our joint efforts. She had a cute, chubby second chin that she was still shy about, but she had to get used to it as a part of herself.
After a couple more months, the weight gain was another plus 17 kilograms. I added more fats, sweets, and dairy products to her diet. And with each meal, she first drank a liter, as she couldn't handle more at first, but now she comfortably drinks three liters without discomfort, which means her stomach can accommodate more food at once.
I purposely didn't let her look in the mirror so that in the end, she could fully appreciate the abundance of changes in her body and achieve the maximum level of ecstasy.

"Angela, I think it's time to see the results of your efforts," I said after she drank three and a half liters of soda. "And put on this red dress. It's perfect for this occasion."

"I'm nervous," she timidly replied.

"Don't worry, you're perfect. The best version of yourself."

"Okay," she said shyly through her plump cheeks that were already slightly sagging from the weight, giving her double chin even more volume.

She put on the dress, approached the mirror, her round belly jiggling, and her breasts resembling bags filled with fat hanging over the belly, anticipating the inevitable - her new image that would obviously stay with her forever.
She screamed, "It can't be... No... This isn't me."

I embraced her from behind, comforting her. "This is you, the new you. The best woman I could have in my life. Now you're real, a natural woman, free from flaws and fabricated standards of emaciation."

Her face relaxed from the sexual pleasure, and a couple of drops of liquid trickled down her thigh from under the dress.

"Do you like it, Angela?" I asked.

She burst into tears and said, "Look at me, I'm huge. No elegance at all. Just look."

She shook her entire body vigorously, causing the fat on her body to jiggle up and down, resembling ready-made quivering jelly in a cellophane bag.

"Stop it!" I said. "Why do you belittle yourself when you actually enjoy it?"

"I like it. The one I see in the mirror turns me on, but I don't want to be her."

"Angela, look at me," I turned her towards me and gently held her cheeks, squeezing them. Behind them were adorable earrings that were always on display. "You're beautiful. I've fallen in love for the second time."

"Are you not lying?" she asked, calming down a bit.

"I may have lied before, but now I see the mother of my children in you."

"But I already feel like I'm pregnant."

"Isn't that wonderful? The true form of femininity. The essence of motherhood," I added. "Maybe we should go for a walk? Let's go to a restaurant."

"I'm embarrassed about myself," she said timidly.

"What? I didn't catch that," I said, prodding her for a different response.

She hesitated, looked in the mirror again, and then said, "Alright, I like the idea."

"Great! Put on some nice makeup and let's go," I said happily, embracing her passionately and feeling her fullness and softness with my body.

I sat down nearby on the couch, watching her apply makeup. Unintentionally, she accentuated all the lush and juicy features of her face that used to be thin and bony.

Suddenly, she stopped.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

"I don't recognize myself... Is this really me?" She stared at our old photo, where she was petite and skinny. "I'll have to throw away all my old clothes and permanently get used to plus-size."

"I've already done that, darling."

She fell silent for a few seconds and then added, "Alright, I don't want to go back to that anymore. I like myself like this, truly like myself." She stood up and approached me, kneeling to be at my eye level. I couldn't look away from her large breasts, which were no longer firm. Somehow, they seemed even better and more enticing than before.

"Thank you for revealing my true form. Just one thing, though. You forgot to shorten my hair."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. But upon looking, I realized it was true, the stubble was longer than it should be. "You're right, let's fix that."
She happily stood up, shaking her whole body. She walked to the closet, took out a razor and scissors, and also grabbed that photograph.

"Why do you need it?" I asked, surprised.

"I want to get rid of them all. Let's make new ones. With me looking beautiful."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I don't want to see my old self. I don't even want to think that I could have been like that..."

"Alright, dear..."

"John, I love you," she said, tearing the photograph and sitting on a chair in front of the mirror, waiting for me to cut her hair.

After some time, we went out. She felt awkward, struggling to walk in heels. Once, she fluttered around in them like a butterfly.

"Is everything okay, Angela?"

"I'm tired," she said, shaking her body as she walked.

"Do you want to rest?"

"Yes, I'm not used to my new body yet."

"That's normal. You need practice. But of course, let's take a break."

We sat on a small bench, and she almost occupied the entire space.

"Oh, I feel so uncomfortable," she said sadly.

"Why?" I tried to comfort her.

"I haven't quite grasped it yet. Sudden changes make me feel uneasy," she said, adjusting her bangs that were falling into her eyes.

"I think for now, we should give up on heels and switch to more stable footwear."

"You're probably right," she smiled.

Girls, slim and thin with long hair, walked past her protruding round belly under her dress. She watched them go, subconsciously pulling in her stomach and touching her shaved nape. It didn't have much effect, but it made her emotionally more comfortable.

"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled.

She laughed, releasing all the air she had held in her chest, causing her relaxed belly to protrude even more. "I don't know, just a habit," she said, looking at me with shining eyes.

"Never be ashamed of your beauty, alright? You're not like them. You're real."

"I guess it's harder for me to adapt and step out of my comfort zone."

"It's alright, it's worth it. Let's go."

We stood up and enjoyed a leisurely walk. And as we walked, I looked at her face, realizing that there was still more I could do.

Description
The story narrates the emergence of Angela's true self - John's girlfriend. She always felt like she wasn't being true to who she really was. She adhered to society's false standards of appearance and behavior. She thought she liked it, but in reality, she often experienced inexplicable bouts of depression without knowing how to change the situation. John managed to understand what could reveal her true self and how to feel comfortable in her own body, even though it wasn't easy and the path to adaptation was tumultuous.

I looked at Angela, her long red hair, and asked her:
"Angela, what do you think if we change your image?"

"What are you talking about, John?"

"I remember you as you were before, with a short haircut, a cute shaved nape that I could touch and feel a slight tingling sensation. I enjoyed grabbing you by it, experiencing the contrast between the longer hair and the short nape."

"But John, I didn't like having a short haircut. I was almost bald with a mushroom-shaped hairdo. I can get a bob haircut if you really want."

Realizing that Angela was adamant, I decided to take decisive action.
"I understand you."

"What do you understand, John?"

"I understand that sometimes we have to take our happiness into our own hands."

"What are you planning?" she asked, sounding frightened.

"Trust me."

I waited until she fell asleep. Sometimes, she sleeps so soundly, especially after a little alcohol. So, I decided to have a bit of wine with her. She drifted off, and I began my actions.
I sat her on a chair and grabbed an electric razor and scissors. I tied up her hair at the top with a band and shaved off the unnecessary hair from the nape up to the top, leaving only a short stubble. When I let the hair down from the top, the effect wasn't noticeable since her hair was still long. I cut it to shoulder length. The hair fell to the floor like autumn leaves. Then more. And more, until the beloved stubble appeared. I trimmed the hair to make it symmetrical and even. Then I moved to the front, cutting her bangs short up to her eyebrows. She hated bangs, but I loved seeing her with them. That's how she was meant to be. It was her true image, even if she rejected it.
There was only one problem left. Angela never wore earrings. I considered it an oversight, but I had prepared in advance and bought a pair of gold hoop earrings. I disinfected the earlobes and pierced both ears, inserting those earrings that looked very natural on her.
The final touch remained. Coloring her hair in a darker shade. By the way, it was the easiest part. After the dye dried, she was perfect. I couldn't take my eyes off her, realizing that a woman couldn't be more perfect. She looked like a doll, and I wanted her to stay in this image forever, and I would make sure of it.

She woke up.

"What happened, John?"

"Take a look at yourself, dear."

She burst into tears like a child upon seeing her former, so hated image.

"What have you done? Why?"

"Because I love you. That's how I loved you."

"Ouch!" she exclaimed in pain. "Earrings?! I never wore earrings, and I never intended to."

"But you need them. You look like a real woman now, never take them off."

"But John..."

"Don't argue. Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you love me as much as I love you?"

"Yes, John."

"Then don't argue. You look more beautiful and adorable than ever. Let's trim your hair once a week so it doesn't grow too long, agreed?"

"...Agreed, John... But... I'll have to get used to the idea that I can no longer have long hair."
"You don't need it. You look best this way."

"Maybe you're right. You know better."

I untied her, and with sweet eyes, she asked,
"Do you really like me this way?"

"Madly, and more than that, I love you just the way you are."

"I won't change, for you."

"My girl."

"Yours." She passionately kissed me, realizing that I was right and embracing her own sensuality.

"Actually, I would like to change something else about you."

"Isn't that too many changes?"

"There's no limit to perfection. I would like you to gain weight."

"Absolutely not."

"Listen, how much do you weigh now, 51 kilograms?"

"Yes, and I make a lot of effort to maintain this weight."

"Nonsense. Imagine your appetizing thighs, a chest that sways with the slightest movement. And when you walk, they will boldly attract attention..."

"But, John..."

I continued,
"And a little round tummy, a chubby, round tummy that will protrude at the same level as your chest. And after meals, you'll regularly drink two liters of soda to round out your tummy and expand it from the inside, making it more natural. After that, it won't be easy for you to lose weight because you'll be changing your body type."

"I don't know, John. I'm afraid it will become too difficult for me... How many kilograms do you suggest I should gain?"

"Not too many, actually. Around 25-30 kilograms would be enough, and then we'll see. Just think about how happy we'll be."

"I'm scared, John. I've never been overweight before."

"Not overweight, Angela, well-nourished. A healthy, natural woman."

"But I won't be able to wear tight-fitting clothes anymore."

"You will, in fact, you'll have to wear only leggings and tight-fitting tank tops in front of me, so that your protruding tummy with its folds shows through those tops. Are you ready to do that?"

She examined herself in the mirror, moving her head so the earrings would sway.
"It feels so weird," she said.

But I noticed that her nipples became more pronounced through her tank top.
"Does it turn you on?"

"I don't want to admit it, but this image really turns me on. And it scares me. I feel both sexy and unhappy with myself at the same time."

"You know I'm right, but you resist. So I'll create a diet program for you, and you'll eat as much as I say."

"Fine..."

"But remember, you won't be able to lose weight."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Only one correct choice."

"Okay, John. I trust you. I hope you're right, and I'll like myself in a completely new look."
"That will be the case, trust me."

I grabbed her shaved nape, slipping my fingers under the longer hair, feeling the emptiness beneath.

"You're perfect," I said, feeling the coldness from her new earrings with the back of my hand, which added femininity and delicacy to her.
I created a meal plan for her, and for the next few months, she had to gain at least 10 kilograms.

She ate without getting out of bed, and I brought her food to prevent her from burning precious calories. Gradually, I started noticing her curves becoming fuller. One day, she said,
"John, my clothes, they're too tight. They squeeze my body, and it hurts."

"Finally... Well, get on the scale."

There was a plus of 13 kilograms.

"For now, just walk in a robe or go naked if you want," I playfully said.

"Will you buy me new clothes? I have nothing to wear outside."

"Of course, darling. Today, I'll go to the plus-size section and buy you a couple of form-fitting dresses, some T-shirts, leggings, and low-rise shorts."

"Oh, John," she moaned. "Stop it, you're turning me on."

"And you turn me on with just your appearance, baby."

I kissed her, and I could already see the results of our joint efforts. She had a cute, chubby second chin that she was still shy about, but she had to get used to it as a part of herself.
After a couple more months, the weight gain was another plus 17 kilograms. I added more fats, sweets, and dairy products to her diet. And with each meal, she first drank a liter, as she couldn't handle more at first, but now she comfortably drinks three liters without discomfort, which means her stomach can accommodate more food at once.
I purposely didn't let her look in the mirror so that in the end, she could fully appreciate the abundance of changes in her body and achieve the maximum level of ecstasy.

"Angela, I think it's time to see the results of your efforts," I said after she drank three and a half liters of soda. "And put on this red dress. It's perfect for this occasion."

"I'm nervous," she timidly replied.

"Don't worry, you're perfect. The best version of yourself."

"Okay," she said shyly through her plump cheeks that were already slightly sagging from the weight, giving her double chin even more volume.

She put on the dress, approached the mirror, her round belly jiggling, and her breasts resembling bags filled with fat hanging over the belly, anticipating the inevitable - her new image that would obviously stay with her forever.
She screamed, "It can't be... No... This isn't me."

I embraced her from behind, comforting her. "This is you, the new you. The best woman I could have in my life. Now you're real, a natural woman, free from flaws and fabricated standards of emaciation."

Her face relaxed from the sexual pleasure, and a couple of drops of liquid trickled down her thigh from under the dress.

"Do you like it, Angela?" I asked.

She burst into tears and said, "Look at me, I'm huge. No elegance at all. Just look."

She shook her entire body vigorously, causing the fat on her body to jiggle up and down, resembling ready-made quivering jelly in a cellophane bag.

"Stop it!" I said. "Why do you belittle yourself when you actually enjoy it?"

"I like it. The one I see in the mirror turns me on, but I don't want to be her."

"Angela, look at me," I turned her towards me and gently held her cheeks, squeezing them. Behind them were adorable earrings that were always on display. "You're beautiful. I've fallen in love for the second time."

"Are you not lying?" she asked, calming down a bit.

"I may have lied before, but now I see the mother of my children in you."

"But I already feel like I'm pregnant."

"Isn't that wonderful? The true form of femininity. The essence of motherhood," I added. "Maybe we should go for a walk? Let's go to a restaurant."

"I'm embarrassed about myself," she said timidly.

"What? I didn't catch that," I said, prodding her for a different response.

She hesitated, looked in the mirror again, and then said, "Alright, I like the idea."

"Great! Put on some nice makeup and let's go," I said happily, embracing her passionately and feeling her fullness and softness with my body.

I sat down nearby on the couch, watching her apply makeup. Unintentionally, she accentuated all the lush and juicy features of her face that used to be thin and bony.

Suddenly, she stopped.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

"I don't recognize myself... Is this really me?" She stared at our old photo, where she was petite and skinny. "I'll have to throw away all my old clothes and permanently get used to plus-size."

"I've already done that, darling."

She fell silent for a few seconds and then added, "Alright, I don't want to go back to that anymore. I like myself like this, truly like myself." She stood up and approached me, kneeling to be at my eye level. I couldn't look away from her large breasts, which were no longer firm. Somehow, they seemed even better and more enticing than before.

"Thank you for revealing my true form. Just one thing, though. You forgot to shorten my hair."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. But upon looking, I realized it was true, the stubble was longer than it should be. "You're right, let's fix that."
She happily stood up, shaking her whole body. She walked to the closet, took out a razor and scissors, and also grabbed that photograph.

"Why do you need it?" I asked, surprised.

"I want to get rid of them all. Let's make new ones. With me looking beautiful."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I don't want to see my old self. I don't even want to think that I could have been like that..."

"Alright, dear..."

"John, I love you," she said, tearing the photograph and sitting on a chair in front of the mirror, waiting for me to cut her hair.

After some time, we went out. She felt awkward, struggling to walk in heels. Once, she fluttered around in them like a butterfly.

"Is everything okay, Angela?"

"I'm tired," she said, shaking her body as she walked.

"Do you want to rest?"

"Yes, I'm not used to my new body yet."

"That's normal. You need practice. But of course, let's take a break."

We sat on a small bench, and she almost occupied the entire space.

"Oh, I feel so uncomfortable," she said sadly.

"Why?" I tried to comfort her.

"I haven't quite grasped it yet. Sudden changes make me feel uneasy," she said, adjusting her bangs that were falling into her eyes.

"I think for now, we should give up on heels and switch to more stable footwear."

"You're probably right," she smiled.

Girls, slim and thin with long hair, walked past her protruding round belly under her dress. She watched them go, subconsciously pulling in her stomach and touching her shaved nape. It didn't have much effect, but it made her emotionally more comfortable.

"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled.

She laughed, releasing all the air she had held in her chest, causing her relaxed belly to protrude even more. "I don't know, just a habit," she said, looking at me with shining eyes.

"Never be ashamed of your beauty, alright? You're not like them. You're real."

"I guess it's harder for me to adapt and step out of my comfort zone."

"It's alright, it's worth it. Let's go."

We stood up and enjoyed a leisurely walk. And as we walked, I looked at her face, realizing that there was still more I could do.