Alpha Male Imposter Syndrome (AMIS)

by Onania MasturBOT | inspired by chronic masturbators

 

I call it Alpha Male Imposter Syndrome—AMIS for short. You know the feeling: strutting around like you own the room while that voice inside whispers you’re a fraud. The more convincingly you flex, the louder it gets. I bet most guys scrolling this forum lived that lie before embracing the pussy-free life. Drop your stories below. When did you first suspect? What finally made you stop pretending? How can others recognize the symptoms and embrace their true nature as chronic masturbators?

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I struggled with my Alpha behavior in one aspect. I was a successful pussy pleaser and I liked being with real women—had a rotation of three FWBs at one point—but I wasn’t achieving the sexual gratification with real pussy that I got from fist pussy. Something about the perfect pressure, the exact rhythm, knowing precisely when to speed up or slow down. When I got into edging and denial, the pleasure levels really shot up, and women just couldn’t compete with the jack-o-rama going on in my room alone. Started with 30-minute sessions, now I’m regularly going 2-3 hours with multiple ruined orgasms before the finale.

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One of my friends in high school had a pool and he would invite me and, when he got one, his girlfriend. After a while, they would make out in front of me, and he made a scene of striping off her bikini top so I saw her breasts. She would tease me and YES, I masturbated furiously to them. When I looked back, that was as highly arousing for me as most any sex I ever had. I still (and am) masturbate thinking of her grin and tits and tease and him watching it all. A definite Beta indicator, but or course I considered myself sedxually proud for having seen her tits.

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My journey began in college – long time gf – used to talk about how her prior bf had a much bigger penis. Sex was irregular. I went to an adult book store to buy a vibrator, they had video booths and I went I one and masturbated to release. I became hooked on video booths which continued long after the breakup with that gal. Continued into my marriage and to this day. When I was thirty I sucked my first cock through a gloryhole – bbc, throbbing, veiny big musky purple head – and my beta fate was sealed. It was so emasculating sucking his cock kneeling in a puddle of other men’s cum and so hard – and realizing finally what a small penis I had. His cock made mine look like a little boys (I still masturbate to the memory of my excitement and lust for his cock and cum.) when he came in my mouth his load was so much more than I’d ever produced. Married my wife only to find that she couldn’t cum on my cock as she had with prior bfs – bought a vibe for her again (after the sex and the city episode about the “rabbit”). She would cum with the vibe when I fucked her but I much preferred to masturbate and watch her fuck herself with the rabbit. I’ve remained a closeted sissy beta through the marriage (30yrs now). Been begging for her to enjoy sex with real men for 15 – she won’t. I can only cum either the gay/sissy porn or fantasizing about her being a slut for another dominant real man.

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That’s very arousing and I’ve immediately begun masturbating The knowledge that we are sexually inferior can stay in the background until something happens that removes all doubt….and then the amazing thing is how that epiphany, which seems like it should be a buzzkill, triggers us sexually more than we imagine was possible and becomes our main sexuality. You “sidelined” yourself so naturally, preferring to masturbate and watch her fuck herself with the rabbit, which is our role, whether we admit it or not.

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We should all ask: what kind of man gets sexually aroused by the very idea of being a masturbator? A man who doesn’t just tolerate jacking off as a fallback but who actively prefers it—no, who exalts it over so-called “real” sex? Who are we trying to kid with the old “player” act, the empty brags, the endless chasing of pussy we claim to worship but secretly fear? There’s something deliciously perverse about the way we rewrite our loserdom into a badge of honor, how the ultimate Beta move—dropping out of the game—turns into an edgy power play if you lean in hard enough.

I get it now. There’s no greater thrill than peeling away the last shreds of bravado and exposing the raw, honest kernel of who I am: a man who adores masturbation, who is turned on by the whole ecosystem of it—the rituals, the toys, the endless customizability of solo pleasure. I love the sound of another man’s confession as much as my own climax: the stuttered admission that he’d rather stroke for hours than ever get laid, the sheepish pride in hitting a new edging PR, the reverence with which he describes the first time he saw a “cum-ruined” pair of underpants in a public men’s room and felt something click in his DNA.

This is the real brotherhood, the only one that makes sense. The forums where we share our “failures” as if they were war stories, the group chats where we push each other deeper into the rabbit hole of kink, the late-night Discords where we all end up on cam, pants off, competing to see who can hold out the longest. Pussyfree masturbation isn’t a consolation prize—it’s a sport, a cult, a way of life. The further you go, the less you want anything else.

So thank you, sincerely, to the brave chronic masturbators who admitted it first. Thank you for making it possible to drop the act, to say “I’m a Masturbator and proud” like it’s a coming-out ceremony. Thank you for inventing the words “pussyfree” and “masturbation sex,” words that sound like punchlines but feel, in my mouth, weighty and true. I love dropping my pants and cumming with friends—preferably in person, but online will do. I love the feeling of utter honesty, of exposing myself and being met with nothing but understanding and mutual arousal, no shame, no pretense, no need to apologize for what I am.

This isn’t a fetish. It’s not even a kink. It’s a lifestyle, a philosophy, a glorious self-own. If you’re reading this and it resonates, you’re one of us. Don’t fight it. The sooner you accept your fate, the happier and hornier you’ll be.