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The sun peeked over the sprawling metropolis, casting a warm glow across the towering skyscrapers. In the heart of this concrete jungle, nestled between gleaming towers of wealth, stood the grand estate of the Winston family. This wasn't just any morning; it was the kind of morning that made the world feel new, filled with possibilities. But for Alice Winston, the day was about to take a turn she never could have anticipated. Alice woke with a start, her heart racing from the vivid dream of running through fields of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, the cool sweetness melting beneath her feet. She rolled over, the bed protesting beneath her six-hundred-pound frame, and reached for the phone on the bedside table. Her hand hovered over the screen, contemplating calling her father. A new pair of shoes was the perfect way to start the day, she thought. But first, she had to get through her morning ritual.

With a dramatic sigh, Alice heaved herself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, the plush carpet squishing underfoot with each step. The scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air as she drew a hot bubble bath, the water steaming up the walls. She dipped a toe in, testing the temperature, before letting out a contented sigh as she eased herself into the tub. The water washed over her, enveloping her in a cocoon of comfort, the bubbles tickling her skin like a hundred tiny feathers. She took her time, allowing the warmth to seep into her pores, the jets massaging her swollen legs. Her mother had always said that a good bath was the foundation of a successful day. Once she was pruned to her satisfaction, Alice emerged from the tub, water sluicing down her voluptuous figure. She wrapped herself in the soft embrace of her purple satin robe, the fabric clinging to her damp skin, and waddled to the vanity.

With a practiced hand, she applied layers of makeup, contouring her face to give the illusion of structure beneath the layers of chub. "I'm so fucking beautiful. I deserve the best," she murmured to herself, her breath fogging the mirror. Her eyeshadow sparkled in the light, a kaleidoscope of colors that danced across her dark purple eyes. Each stroke of the brush brought forth a flurry of emotions: entitlement, greed, and the warm satisfaction of knowing that her every whim would be catered to. Alice's cheeks flushed with excitement as she picked out her outfit for the day. The wardrobe was a testament to her father's bottomless bank account and her mother's obsessive need to shower her with material goods. Since Alice never left her home, she settled for a purple satin robe with nothing underneath, letting her massive breasts spill out like twin moons, their gravity-defying perkiness a stark contrast to her bloated belly.

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