FapFree Diet I

By Vakster - jayhypno321@gmail.com
published January 2, 2019
3167 words

Cal finds an online community to help him conquer his addiction to porn and beating off, and generally improve his life overall.

My fingers trembled on the keyboard as I struggled to fill the empty text box on my screen. The prompt at the top of the forum thread felt like it was staring back at me, judging me. My pathetic life mocked in 33 words:

Welcome to FapFree! We’re so glad you’ve taken this step and joined our online community. To get you started, feel free to tell our members a little about yourself and your journey to this point.

I slammed the laptop screen down and got up from my desk. As I paced the room, I tried to psych myself up. “You’ve already gone to the trouble of creating an account,” I told myself, “and it’s not like anyone on this stupid site is going to know who you are.”

I sat back down at the desk. “And now you’re talking to yourself,” I added. “Just ball up and get it over with.”

Hmm. Ball up. That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that, because now I was thinking about a super hot porno I downloaded the other day, in which this one dude had the biggest, most beautiful sack of nuts I’d ever seen. The way they swung back and forth as he fucked this ridiculously muscled bodybuilder guy made be blow a load in two seconds flat.

Even thinking about it now sent invisible tendrils of arousal outward in all directions from my cock, and I absentmindedly slipped my hand beneath the waistband of my jeans to grasp my lengthening member. I was barely half a dozen strokes in, thinking about that porn actor’s delicious nuts, when I busted my own, sending four quick spurts of jizz out of my cock and all over the inside of my boxers.

As I struggled to catch my breath, the brief flash of pleasure immediately gave way to embarrassment, then emptiness, followed by deep depression. I felt like a gigantic piece of shit, a feeling exacerbated by the sensation of my hot cum quickly cooling to room temperature and dribbling down my thighs. New damp spots started to show through my jeans, joining the tapestry of stains new and old that already bespangled my crotch region. I pulled my hand out of my pants and sat at my computer, wallowing in my own shame.

Since I first sat down to write my introduction post on this web forum less than one hour ago, I had been interrupted no fewer than four times by an insatiable and unconquerable desire to beat off.

Four times. In one hour. I was fucking ridiculous.

At the edge of my computer desk, my phone started vibrating. I picked it up and, resisting the almost instinctual urge to place it against my crotch, I looked at the screen. It read: “WORK - DON’T ANSWER”.

I pressed the “fuck you” button and let the call go to voicemail. My already severe self-discontent was dealt a further blow when my phone screen reverted to its default clock display. It was 10:37 a.m., on a Tuesday. Today was not a holiday; it was an ordinary, working Tuesday, and while the restaurant workers and ER nurses of the world might still be off the clock, I belonged to the cadre of the workforce who were expected to be in the office at 8:00 a.m.

My phone vibrated again, this time notifying me of a new voicemail. I played the message, only after one or two false starts due to the residual cum on my hands interfering with the touchscreen. Unsurprisingly, it was my boss, and she sounded pissed.

“Cal, it’s Terry calling from the office. Listen, we’ve talked about this before, this no-call, no-show stuff is unacceptable. I’ve tried to keep from getting HR involved, but I can’t do that anymore. I’ve been told to tell you that if we don’t hear from you by the end of the day, your employment will be terminated.”

Fuck. Was I really going to lose my job over this?

“Cal,” the message continued, Terry’s tone shifting to something resembling compassionate, “listen, whatever is going on, we can talk about it. Please, please, please give me a call ASAP. Thanks, bye.”

I set my phone down on the desk, and just when I didn’t think I could get any lower, I realized that my free hand was already back down my pants, ready for another jerk.

Fuck me, and fuck my fucking life.

I opened my laptop back up and flipped through the open tabs, until I found FapFree’s homepage, sandwiched between two of my favorite porn sites. I read the pages for what felt like the millionth time, even reading some of the stuff aloud to myself, to try and regain even a shred of dignity. The testimonials were my favorite part, and I pulled up a few of them I had bookmarked, trying to absorb them like a sponge. A worthless, pathetic sponge.

“FapFree helped me get over my porn addiction and get my life back on track.”

“My marriage was in trouble because I couldn’t get over my masturbation habit, but thanks to the support from the community here, I just celebrated 500 days FapFree!”

“My brothers here on the forums have given me my life back.”

Emboldened, I clicked back on the forums tab and faced the empty text box once again. From lurking on the forums, I knew that the guys who joined the site called each other their “FapFree brothers.” I thought it was a weird term for an anonymous web forum, but who was I to argue with such a seemingly successful online community. I slowly typed out my introduction, going back and editing it again and again until finally, fifteen minutes later, I had a paragraph that I was reasonably happy with:

Hey FapFree guys, my name is “C.” and I am 30 years old. I live in a pretty ordinary city in an ordinary state, and I am glad to finally find a forum like this. It’s hard to admit, but I’ve spent more time in my life beating off than I can count. It started when I was in high school, and it just got worse and worse until basically every free moment was taken up by jerking my cock. Now, I’m pretty much desperate to find a way to get over this addiction, because I guess I’ve hit rock bottom. My masturbation habit has got me missing work, and it’s all getting out of hand. I’m looking forward to finding some support and hopefully stop watching porno and masturbating all the time.

As I read over it, I couldn’t help feeling those pangs of humiliation that had become such a hallmark of my life now. Posting something like this was almost worse than all the hasty jerking off I had done. Sure, it was anonymous, and the whole forum was nothing but guys who couldn’t keep their hands out of their pants, but now I felt like I was advertising my own weakness. My cursor hovered over the submit button, and I hesitated.

“Fuck it, Cal,” I said to myself, “it can’t get any worse. At least you’re trying to do something about it.”

My little pep talk gave me just enough reassurance, and I clicked submit. A pop-up appeared asking me to fill in a short CAPTCHA and agree to the forum’s community standards, and once I did, my browser took me to a landing page with a little animation of congratulatory balloons and confetti. It was kind of cute, and I let it play and replay a few times before scrolling down to read the text below.

“Way to go!” the heading read. I chucked and rolled my eyes. “You’ve taken a big first step, and you should be proud. I am sure your FapFree brothers will be welcoming you to the community shortly, but let us be the first to say how happy we are to have you aboard. Here’s to you, brother! Sincerely, the FapFree team.”

Below the welcome greeting was a quote from Aristotle: “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”

I was smiling. And it actually felt good. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I actually felt good about myself, and about something I’d done. So pleasant was this sensation that I was reluctant to navigate away from the welcome page. I just wanted to watch those little animated balloons and confetti as they swirled around the browser window, celebrating this first step on my new journey.

I must have gotten distracted by the animation, because the next thing I noticed was my laptop’s screen saver activating, the FapFree website now hidden behind a slow moving panorama of some Asian metropolis. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. “That was weird,” I thought. “I was sure my screen saver wasn’t set to kick on until 30 minutes of inactivity.”

I brushed my fingers across the trackpad and brought my laptop back to life. When the FapFree site refreshed, I was surprised to see my dashboard had twenty-six notifications, each one of them a response to my introduction post. As I read through them, my smile grew wider and my feelings of emptiness and shame receded beneath a growing sense of pride and purpose.

“Welcome to FapFree, brother! We’re here for you!”

“Glad to have you aboard, brother. I know where you’re coming from, and I promise you, it gets so much better!”

“You’ll look back on today as the day you got your life back, brother! This is the best community of guys around.”

Even before I reached the end of the responses, several more had populated below them, and all of them were in the same enthusiastic, congratulatory vein. As I delighted in reading them, I started to feel something strange: a small, almost imperceptible aching in my cheeks and jaw. I reached up to try to massage the pain away, and realized that my face was currently split by the widest smile I think I’d ever smiled in my life. Ear-to-ear, like I’d slept the night with a coat hanger in my mouth.

“Weird,” I thought, “that I didn’t notice until just now.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those guys who has the male equivalent of Resting Bitch Face, but I didn’t think my default expression was “Creepy Ventriloquist’s Doll Smile.”

A new notification appeared on my FapFree dashboard, but not a reply to the public forum, rather a message to my private inbox. All thoughts about my weird smiling face disappeared from my head as I read the message:

“Hey, “C.” (I like the initial, it’s mysterious!) I just saw your intro post and wanted to welcome you to the site. I’m pretty new myself, just a week into it, and I just wanted you to know that it seems like these FapFree dudes know what they’re talking about. I’ve gotten some great advice from the lecture videos and I’ve actually gone 3 whole days without masturbating, the longest I’ve been able to hold off for a long time! Anyway, the program recommends you find a FapFree buddy as an accountability thing, and if you wanted to be each other’s, that’d be awesome. I’m 30, just like you, and had some of the same kinds of problems. Would love to chat about it sometime if you want. Catch you later! -C (that’s my initial too! lol).”

I felt my smile returning, but with none of the aches or fatigued muscles from before. It felt easy now, even right, to be smiling. “And why shouldn’t I be smiling?” I thought. “These guys seem awesome. I think I might actually get something out of this.”

I thought about all of the guys who had responded to my forum post, and to the guy who messaged me directly. I decided to write him back immediately, my smile growing wider and wider as I tried to compose the perfect message.

“Dear C. Thanks for your message! I was excited to see so many guys reply to my intro post with such awesome support. It really makes me feel like I can do this. I think it would be great if we could be accountability buddies. I know I definitely am going to need some help as I go through the program. You seem like a cool guy, so if you want to chat with me on Skype or Discord or whatever, here’s all the places you can find me online.”

I closed the message with all of my chat handles and my initial as signature. As I browsed the FapFree forum threads, I noticed that that my bedroom had grown quite dark. Looking out the window, I could see that it was nighttime.

“Shit!” I shouted. “What time is it?”

I looked in the corner of my laptop screen and saw the clock. It was 8:38 p.m.

“Fuck,” I groaned. “I gotta call my job.”

I reached for my phone, but before I had even unlocked the screen, I saw I had another voicemail, from 5:29 p.m. My hands were shaking as I played the message, hoping against hope that it wasn’t what I feared.

“Hey, Cal. It’s Terry again.”


“Listen, I was really hoping we’d hear from you at some point today, and we could work all this stuff out. I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do at this point.”

I listened as my boss informed me that the stuff from my cubicle would be boxed up and mailed to me, and some details about my final paycheck. At first, I thought her tone was sympathetic, but I soon realized that it was probably just relief, that a growing problem had finally been dealt with for good. I sat at my desk, the glow of the computer screen the only light in the room, and the shame and depression started to flow back in. I looked down at my dirty jeans, the crotch crusted with two days’ worth of feverishly expelled cum, and all I wanted to do was beat off until I passed out.

“Fuck it,” I said. “Fuck this FapFree shit, fuck everything.” I opened a new tab and pulled up my favorite porn site. All I wanted to do was watch two unnaturally hot dudes fuck each other while I tugged at my own cock. I could feel it getting hard in my jeans as I started the video, and before Trent had even asked Trevor to spot him on the bench press, I’d unzipped my fly and started pumping my stiff dick.

“Fuck, they’re so hot,” I thought. “I fucking love this.” But even as I worked up a sweat from my frenetic stroking, something felt… off. I increased the speed of my hand’s jackhammer action. “Oh, yeah,” I moaned with pleasure, “there we go.” But the words felt somehow forced, almost like I was an actor in a porn film myself, reciting lines from a poorly written script. I used my other hand to stroke my nutsack, and just as I was about to gasp with pleasure, I didn’t.

In the video, Trent was lying on the bench, staring directly up at the growing boner tent in Trevor’s gym shorts. Trent licked his lips in anticipation. “It looks like I’m not the only one who needs a spotter,” he said, his cardboard performance clear evidence that he was reading off a cue card.

The pace of my stroking had slowed somewhat, and my hard on had softened considerably. By the time Trent and Trevor had moved to the free weights, I’d had enough.

“This is ridiculous,” I said aloud, “boring as shit.” I continued to stroke as I started a new video; this time it was Ryder and Thor having a threesome with Coach Rick. The pleasure started to build, and my dick responded to my hands’ increased attention, but after a few minutes, the same thing happened. I just lost interest.

“Fuck, when did all this porn get so boring?” I thought. I closed the browser window, intending to go to something kinkier that would get me off, but my browser defaulted back to that FapFree welcome page with the balloons and confetti. I let the short animation play a few times, and felt that familiar sense of contentment and positive energy growing inside me. My cock went soft in my hand, and I relinquished my grip on it in order to scroll down the page once again.

“Way to go!” the heading read. I didn’t chuckle or roll my eyes this time, just smiled.

“Yeah,” I agreed happily, “Way to–”

I don’t remember getting up and leaving the bedroom, but I must have, because I was now sitting on the sofa in my living room, my thumb on my remote control’s play button. It felt like no time had passed.

“–go!” I finished my sentence and pressed play, feeling a bit disoriented. I looked down, and in the place of my cum-stained jeans and wrinkled white t-shirt I was wearing a clean pair of blue jeans and a black sport polo. They were uncomfortably tight–they must have been from a few years ago–and looked like they’d been ironed. My confusion was momentarily interrupted by the television coming to life with the familiar “Netflix Original Series” banner.

“In seeking his British naturalization,” the dialogue on the television began, “His Royal Highness Prince Phillip of Greece and of Denmark renounces his Greek nationality.”

“What is this?” I thought. “And why am I watching it?”

A quick toggle of the remote revealed that it was some show I’d never heard of called The Crown. Definitely not my thing. I was about to exit Netflix and go looking for my flash drive of HD porn, but my pocket vibrated, and I fished out my phone from my snug jeans to see the notification. It was from FapFree. “When did I download their app?” I thought.

I tapped the notification, and my phone screen was alight with the familiar animated balloons and confetti. “Way to go!” it said in big block letters. I smiled.

“And, from henceforth,” the show continued, “he will be known as Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten, Royal Navy.”

“Hmm,” I thought as I set down the remote control, “maybe I’ll just see what this is about.”

Mind control
Wanking material
You've created tags exclusively for this story! Please avoid exclusive tags!