so im trying to fix my thigh chafing lumps/blisters/damage, and here's my latest tip: wear your bicycle shorts inside out, so the irritating seams are on the outside.
i've found that when my thighs are damaged that even ostensibly soft and gentle clothes can make it worse because the seams rub against the damage. i was inspired by discussions by marathon runners about how women wear their sports bras inside out so the seams are on the outside when they run, to fight chafing.
seamless shorts should also help, but this is cheaper
At the start you had enjoyed seeing others gain weight. Seeing the transformation from thin, skinny, and athletic to pudgy, chubby, fat, and obese. Arms that were once so thin and sleek now hidden underneath pillows of meaty flesh. Chins and jawlines so well defined and sharp now a distant memory two to three extra chins in. Thighs that once were slender pillars holding up barely anything can now be described as trunks holding up a hefty canopy of a body. And that expansive canopy. The abs underneath an apron of fat. The love handles trying to escape the clothes holding them in. The breasts that were once held in by sports bras now can't have sports even associated with the name for the bras they need now. And the stretch marks acting as the indicators of someone being so well fed and hedonistic. Acting as signs of pleasure and enjoyment. Especially for you.
And you enjoyed interacting with anyone that you could shape like clay. And add clay to their bodies to shape them in whatever you felt flattering. Extra servings to your best friend. New clothes in a larger size for your date as a gift. Extra rounds of drinks for your coworker. Such an insatiable appetite for people with insatiable appetites. And then you found forums, blogs, and plus sized dating sites.
You enjoyed getting others to gain without them knowing. You didn't know how much you would love it when they were begging to be fed or have someone encourage them to get fatter. Their milestones felt so ambitious. And you were so enamored with it, that you started to fall victim to it yourself.
You saw the happiness it brought your feedees and encouraged gainers that you wondered for the first time how it felt to be that happy. To enjoy the hedonistic desires your models had succumbed to over the years. You made a new account on a blogging site. You started posting about wanting encouragement to gain. And you found people. People who were the same build as you. Telling you about how they would love to feed you. To make you an obedient piggy. How they want to cater to your every need to keep you fat and happy. And this attention made your mind swim.
You started falling into the routines of your prior models. Increasing portion sizes, changed your diet and calorie intake so you could capitalize on your gains, you became more sedentary. You felt your waistline expand and press against your belt. You couldn't help but feel your belly fat as it happened. Every day you absently played with your chub. Not a lot was there at first. Just a little roll. And then it grew. It started to round out. Two months went by and now you could pick it up and drop it with some slight jiggling to it. Four more months and you had to get a completely new wardrobe since your waist expanded so much. Six months and you couldn't even see your feet.
25 pounds. 65 pounds. 140 pounds. The weight kept climbing and the encouragement kept coming. You had people meet you and feed you. Cakes. Funnels with shakes. Pastas. Pizzas. Donuts. Fudge. Ice cream. Butter. Oil. Fried foods. You kept enjoying the attention and the hands on your body. You'd massage your now massive body and wonder how you never thought to be on the other end of the hand that feeds. So much tightness to your skin. It is so stimulating to be so fat.