Reflections on daygame

….After a year has passed since his wife’s death, the King takes a new wife, who is beautiful but also unutterably wicked and vain. The new Queen possesses a Magic Mirror which she asks every morning: “Magic mirror in my hand, who is the fairest in the land?”. The mirror always replies: “My Queen, you are the fairest in the land.” The Queen is always pleased with that, because the magic mirror never lies. But, when Snow White reaches the age of seven, she becomes as beautiful as the day and even more beautiful than the Queen and when the Queen asks her mirror, it responds: “My Queen, you are the fairest here so true. But Snow White is a thousand times more beautiful than you.”

This gives the queen a great shock, and she becomes yellow and green with envy, and from that hour her heart turns against Snow White, and with every following day she hates Snow White more and more. Envy and pride, like ill weeds, grow in her heart taller every day, until she has no peace day or night. The Queen orders a huntsman to take Snow White into the deepest woods to be killed *…

mirror-on-the-wall snow white

I used to be quite into Brazilian Ju Jitsu. Our local club had an horrific churn rate as new guys would come in to class and not come back. It was easy to know who would stick around – the unassuming guys who had come to learn. It was equally easy to predict the first day dropouts. They’d be wearing some tough guy clothes, perhaps insisting on wearing a coloured belt they’d picked up in a sports centre grading mill. They’d certainly have a stiff pride about them. Then one of our scrawny blue belts would wipe the mat with them. The ego death was simply too much to take. Their buffer had been overrun and their self-image could not take the real-world evidence that they simply weren’t as tough as they thought they were. So it is with Game.

Newbies are often told that the girl isn’t rejecting you, she’s rejecting your approach. This is only half-true. When you street stop a girl she is holding a mirror up to you. Only it’s not your flattering magic mirror telling you you’re the coolest in the land. She’s doesn’t care for your buffers or your pretty lies. She feels an instinctive emotional reaction to what you present to her and she makes the flirt/escape decision in a heartbeat. The mirror speaks the truth.

It takes only one session of daygame, one run of five consecutive blowouts to realise you ain’t all that. You are not as high value as you led yourself to believe. The weak among you (most men) will scurry back behing the buffers. The stupid will plod on without processing the evidence becoming increasingly angry approach machines. Only the smart and dedicated will process the feedback honestly and realise “I have a lot of work to do on my value.”

When a girl rejects you she is giving an assessment on your entire sexual market value.

Now there are fine gradations of this and while its not necessarily true on any single set it is true in aggregate over the session. Even if she has a boyfriend you’ll see flickers of attraction if she fancies you. Even if she’s in a mad hurry you’ll see her light up a little. It’s only when your SMV is way below hers will she eye-roll, sigh and give you the “how dare you hit on me” response. If that happens, sure get angry that she’s a rude bitch if you want, but process the feedback of why it happened. You ain’t all that.

When a high value woman refuses to have sex with a low value PUA, that is the sexual market functioning correctly.

So granted that you are getting blown out alot and an uncomfortable rate of bad responses, what are you to do? Step one is accept the reality. If you’ve been hit by a bus its not bravery to throw yourself back in front of the next one. Self-diagnose your approach to see what was off about it. Was it shaky vocal delivery? weak eye contact? lack of intent? angry vibe? A good daygame approach requires hundreds of microbehaviours to align into a single well-delivered whole and that’s not easy at all.

If your technique was acceptable its time to look deeper. Did you fail to correctly calibrate to the context such as by opening her as she’s coming away from a cash machine, or chatting animatedly on a phone? Did you adopt a try-hard alpha posture as a buffer to rejection that is transparent to everyone but yourself? Get someone better than you to offer straight feedback.

The problem might be deeper still.You may be hitting on girls above your league. Oh sure, that’s PUA heresy that its not all in your head. Its manosphere heresy that a woman might be too good for you. But if you’re a runtish chode hitting on 19 year old models you should be expecting nothing but harsh blowouts. You’ve got nothing to offer her. Perhaps the answer is to stop approaching hotties and do some serious work on your value. Get to the gym, get a make-over, travel, educate yourself. Make yourself the kind of man a hot young girl would expect to be having sex with. I’m thirty-eight years old and usually hit on girls around their early twenties. This is a huge ask and I have to be bang on my vibe to pull it off.

All men build buffers around themselves to flatter their self esteem and avoid rejection. Every single one of us, myself included. Root them out. Figure out how you are fooling yourself. The easiest single step is to go out into the street and open ten girls. Welcome the responses they are giving you. The harsh blowouts and the flat zero-attraction chats are offering you far more constructive feedback than any online forum can. Compile a wealth of this information, figure out where you stand, and then make a promise to yourself that from this ground zero you will build yourself up.

Accept the reflection that stares back at you.

* Sending for the woodsman = getting angry at the players who are outperforming you.  ”But I’ve been doing game just as long as you, I’ve done just as many sets as you… why aren’t I banging hot girls…. waaaaahhhhhhh”. I’ll bet those other players process reality far better than you do.

I bang my first 29 year old Lithuanian office girl

I’ve been corralled onto a short FSU tour by the indefatigable Tom Torero. We’d been chatting over beer in London around the time of our Long Game podcast and I’d lamented how my usual gang have all been indisposed with full-time jobs that inhibit their travel. Well, seems the Welshman was planning his own trip and thus I came on board.

The street stop, actual

The street stop, actual

My first stop is Vilnius where I catch up with a couple of girls I’ve been seeing on and off for over a year. The streets are reasonably busy and my street stops hit quite well. Outside McDonalds I spot a greyhound and dive in. She hooks strong, giggling and giving me the “just thrilled to be here” giddy look. As I’m taking the number Tom is observing and later tells me she had a dreamy expression like her Prince Charming had arrived. Text game is easy as I play chode game:

Me: Hi. It was a pleasure to meet you :) Are you always so friendly to strangers?

Her: It is a national trait :)

Me: I’ve been exploring. Parks and wide public squares. Very Russian!

Me: Good morning :) It’s another great day! How are you?

Her: Morning! I’m fine. I’m going to build exhibition. Have a good day :)

Me: Thanks

Me: I walked so much my head is sunburned, like a tomato :/

Her: I also walked a lot today. But my head looks good :)

Me: I like this city. It’s very calm and clean. I’ve already found some good bars

Her: Yes, it’s calm. Your phone will go home with you :) [a callback reference to when I told her I was robbed in Brazil] Which bars do you like?

Me: There’s a secret bar I want to show you. It has a James Bond theme

Her: I am happy to meet with Mr Bond :) Maybe this evening?

Me: Hmmm… Will you dress like a Bond girl?

Her: You mean, evening dress, long hair and sexy lingerie? I have only the third :)

Me: Put some clothes over your lingerie, it’s a nice place! :) 6pm, outside the town hall

Her: Ok. I’ll be there.

With the benefit of hindsight this set was more on than I realised. That reference to lingerie was her sexualising and her volunteering meeting soon shows keeness. But I knew I had a couple of days left before the next stop so I didn’t push it as hard as I could’ve. Watch for these little tells in a girls texts or conversation, little slips that let you know she’s up for it without much more preamble. Game can be boiled down to one long compliance test where the beginning is “hello” and the end is sex. Game is only required when she’s not complying. For as long as she’s letting you lead her towards the bedroom you needn’t put on your PUA wizard hat and overgame the set.

Tip: Late 20s / early 30s FSU women are the best prospects for fast holiday lays. Being FSU they are still slim, pretty and well-dressed but they are also more sexually open, more decisive, and more accepting that they can’t boyfriend you by holding out. They can already feel themselves losing the competition against their younger rivals so they’ll latch onto your value much much quicker.

She turns up to the date in a union jack t-shirt that can barely contain her breasts. We sit across a table then I run the Date Model. Everything hits. She’s cooperating to move it along fast so that within twenty minutes I just lean across the table and kiss her. Then I tell her to come around my side of the booth and we make out. It’s on. I could’ve pulled the trigger here but didn’t. After an hour mixing the usual rapport and spikes I let her go. We agree to meet the next night at 6pm

Age it to 29

Age it to 29

At 6:05 she texts “five minutes!” At 6:15 I leave and go to a nearby bar. At 6:30 she calls asking where I am. I tell her. I’m pissed off. It’s not an act. I really don’t want to fuck her now. She senses this on arrival and for ten minutes I’m frosty and she’s pawing at me desperately, sensing she might not get her lay. Finally I tell her its ok and lets just get a bottle of wine. She agrees.

So we get some wine, walk the five minutes to my apartment. I give her the decency of pouring the wine and putting on some music before I make my move. She’s so hot for it that she’s grabbing at my belt within a minute. No LMR to deal with. I just carry her to the bedroom and have my wicked way. A very easy lay. In her 21yr old prime this girl would’ve turned heads on the street, a low nine. The intervening years dropped a point and robbed her skin of the springy quality that turns men into slavvering animals. But a good lay.

Learning points

  • Try to read a girl’s “go” signals. If she’s thrilled on the stop, cooperates strongly on setting up a date, and then rolls out the red carpet on the date then yes, she wants to fuck soon.
  • Read the girl’s clothes on the date. Has she obviously taken alot of care in getting ready? Is she showing cleavage and leg? Is she wear an easy-lifted skirt? Does she mention nice underwear?
  • Don’t overcomplicate an easy set.

An interview with Daygame.com

I tend not to do any talks or interviews anymore but after putting a few beers down my neck, Tom Torero persuaded me to chip in on the latest of Daygame.com’s weekly-ish podcasts. We spent about an hour discussing the topic of Long Game and in particular the lifestyle of travelling internationally to clack girls. Listen to it here

podcast-square-76

I bang my first 22 year old Filipino-Canadian nurse

First off I must tip my hat to Bhodi for serving this girl up to me. It took tight game to get this girl into bed (in under three hours from meeting) but this is a story best viewed as the power of simple wing work.

It all begins on Saturday afternoon in central London as we are hitting some daygame. My first set is excellent, a solid number from a beautiful young Bulgarian, but it tumbles downhill afterwards as a combination of cold miserable weather and huge gaps between finding targets all conspires to kill my state. Two hours in we are at Trafalgar Square when my finely-attuned radar spots a pretty Asian wandering alone. A close look suggests she’s American-Asian (I strongly dislike them) so, seeing as my state is shit anyway, I point her out to Bhodi.

Surprisingly she hooks well for him and is very friendly. I see an idate in the offing and shuffle off. Sure enough he texts me as such. They chat a couple of hours and he escalates her pretty well with dirty talk and kissing then she has to head off to meet friends – its a tour group from the US, headed to Paris the next day. By that time I’m up at Daygame.com HQ doing a podcast with Tom and John.

As we finish around 10pm I see Bhodi has been blowing up my phone with missed calls. Turns out this girl (hereafter Girl A) is drunk in her hotel bar with a crowd of chodes and American girls and bailing on meeting him alone, instead doing the “come join us” bullshit. Treacherous ground. We conspire the best move and I advise thus:

  • Plan A – Get her to meet in the nearest pub to her hotel, alone.
  • Plan B – Go into the bar, shrug off the crowd and pull her out to a nearby pub

Neither plan works. Instead he calls for our address, informing us he might be bringing a few drunk girls. Tom and John agree to run interference if extra bodies are needed. I get the following texts…. its all going pear-shaped but is certainly salvageable.

Him: en route eta 5-10 min one hot young asian high 8 plus my target

Me: cool

Him: mine is the tall one. the other one is an attention whore

Me: 2 girls or 3?

Him: 2

Meeting them downstairs I’m pleased at how the obstacle looks – a short asian hamster with nice curves and glowing skin. It turns out she’s refused to let Girl A leave the hotel alone, seeing her as the lifeline to escape the chodes and have some fun. Then in the taxi over here she had made herself the centre of attention and cockblocked. Typical American-Asian then….

Very very close to this, but one point lower

Very very close to this

I decide I must crush her frame.

Right from the off I’m push-pulling, at times dismissive of her witterings yet genial and showing social interest in her. We sit around a table at a nearby English pub. It’s pretty easy to lead the chat and drop intellectual mastery on her – she appears to know nothing that Europeans would call “history” or “geography”. While I’m reeling off an elaborate Yugoslavia DHV story it becomes obvious she doesn’t know where Bosnia is, that Sarajevo was beseiged, that Tito was dictator, that Franz Ferdinand wasn’t just a band and was shot in Sarajevo. Its so easy to get her dangling on the end of my line, reeling her in. She briefly touches my arm as we talk. I know she fancies me.

Nonetheless nothing about this set was simple. The girls only met each other an hour earlier as the tour group aligned on racial grounds and the asians drifted together. Minor hiccups in the vibe and seating stall our momentum and things go stale. Suddenly we seem to be reaching in, leaning too much into them (figuratively). Something needs to change. This girl is a first-class attention whore.  While my initial blitz had caught her off-balance and pushed her into submissiveness, the slight relenting of pressure gives her space to begin recovering her sense of self-importance. I know we are losing the set. No way will she let her new friend have sex unless she is happy herself. Bhodi had already kiss-closed Girl A on the idate but now she’s maintaining a cold distance and won’t kiss again. This is getting awkward. The following texts get pinged between us under the table as the next ten minutes tick away:

Me: Ok. Mine likes me. Potential. You lead for a bit

Me: Work for isolation

Me: Energy sucks. Bad seating. I suggest a bounce to nearby pub to refresh vibe

Him: agree but dont know any places

Me: My read is they don’t know each other but don’t want to appear slutty for rest of holiday. Need to separate them, even if only within same bar.

Me: We walked past one. If we walk to Marble Arch will find one. Tons of pubs in the area and they are bewildered on location.

We bounce. It’s almost midnight so its no surprise the first bar is shutting up. Second place is open. Upon buying my drink I shuttle my girl to a booth where she’ll be next to me and Girl A next to Bhodi. Its fairly easy to have pair of separate conversations. I have to start escalating.

I brush her hair out of her face, call her a chipmunk, play with her bracelet, ask her if her handbag is full of nuts for winter, touch her thigh….. normal push-pull as I escalate kino. She’s accepting it all. I make a joke about looking down her shirt. Finally I’m confident I have my moment. I inquire whether Bhodi has ice in his vodka – “ice” being code word for him to move his girl into isolation. He takes her to the bar.

This is now the moment of truth. If my girl won’t kiss, she’ll cockblock and its game over for us both. I ask her what she thinks of English men, whether we are gentlemen. Then tell her I’m not one, that I’m a bad man – “Like this, for example” and lift her chin up for a kiss. She meets me enthusiastically. Great. I do The Stone and she comments my dick is a perfect size. Ok, in for a penny in for a pound. I pull the trigger:

Me: I should tell you… I’m having rude thoughts right now.

Her: Tell me about them.

Me: Well, mostly they involve my dick *puts her hand on my dick* inside your pussy *put my hand on her pussy*

Her: *laughs* I can’t believe you said that.

Me: I suppose I could poeticise it. Make it romantic. But essentially it all comes down to my dick, deep and hard inside your pussy.

That’s 80% of my wingwork done. I’m confident I can hold her long enough for Bhodi to extract. Almost telepathically he returns with his girl. Clearly she’s relented on the kissing, her face is quite flushed. “Excuse me, young lady” he address Girl B. “Would you mind terribly if I whisk your friend away for a nightcap before returning her to you in an hour or so?”

Zero cockblocking ensues. Bhodi gets his extraction.

Definitely nice having her underneath me

Definitely nice having her underneath me

Just as I think I’m on for mine she pipes up with “I need to get back to my hotel now.” I’ll hear this line at least ten more times in the next half-hour. I suggest a nightcap. An important part of the extraction is to find out what time she needs to be back home then promise you’ll have her there then. More kissing and she agrees to the nightcap. Into a taxi we go. The whole way back she’s piping up with the “I need to go back to my hotel now” to which I agree, kiss her, verbally bamboozle, pull her close and then she’ll pipe up again. Rinse, repeat. We half the taxi fare and she comes into my house without a fuss.

It’s still on the knife-edge. She’s one miscalibration away from just leaving. She knows she can. She’s accepting my lead but she’s not at all cowed. I walk her up to my room and leave her alone a few minutes. Then shoes off, music on. She accepts some rum. Everything now is soft and comfortable:

  • When handing her rum I say “don’t worry if you can’t finish it”
  • When she protests its too strong neat, I water it down for her. I’m not trying to get her drunker, the rum is just for her own self-rationalisation
  • She sits on the edge of the bed so I lie down at the other end, giving her lots of space.
  • As she gradually edges towards me over the course of five minutes conversation I stay still, lying back non-threateningly.
  • When she tells me she isn’t staying long, I offer to call her a cab “soon”
  • When she’s comfortable enough to kiss, I pull her onto me so she’s in the more dominant position.

Its time for the final push, inching forward step-by-step. I flip her over so I’m on top, then I’m running my hands all over her body, then feeling her tits, then undoing the bra…. its methodical work and I’m hearing the “I can’t have sex with you” line alot. At the point I’m trying to pull her strides down she comes close to a real “no”. A bit of fingering, her hand on my dick, and then just generally putting my dick near her mouth…. she starts sucking me off, I frig her close to orgasm (careful not to put her over the edge and make her too satisfied) and then its done. Strides off, cock in, notch gained.

It’s an awesome fuck. I brutalise her. She’s screaming, gasping, begging to be fucked harder. Loving it. I give her the memory of a lifetime. My phone buzzes.

Him: Status?

Me: +1. In my room

Him: ha ha u owe me one. Just fucked mine in the hotel toilets! HOLY SHIT! [It's his first SDL]

Me: Great work. Putting mine in a cab now.

Him: Wait up with a celebratory whiskey.

This set was always one misstep from disaster. I thoroughly neutralised the cockblock and even got my end away from it, but it took some sterling work. There were long periods when it never seemed likely to happen for either of us.

The taste of victory

The taste of victory

Learning points

  • Girls will spitefully cockblock out of reflex and yet, if handled correctly, will be sweet and up for it.
  • You need communication and teamwork with your wing. With me having been through these situations more than Bhodi I could correctly call the key shots.
  • Some extractions and closes are more on-edge than others. Be careful.

I bang my first 30 year old Romanian princess

That’s a figurative use of princess, by the way.

Imagine a leggy former model who has recently ended her relationship with a super-rich bachelor. Over the past five or so years she’s only ever travelled by limousine or private jet. She can’t remember the last time she looked at a price tag or paid cash, prefering to just sign for her luxuries in the high fashion boutiques. On her wrist is a diamond-encrusted Swiss timepiece costing more than many sports cars. More diamonds around her neck. Her dress costs more than the median average salary of her countrymen. But she walked away from it all, feeling trapped (but keeping the wardrobe, of course). Always on the boyfriend’s schedule, her life planned six months in advance. Always careful not to let slip private information about their lives lest a nosey maid or maitre d’ sell it to a scammer. Always a paparazzi trying to get some photos. She tired of the unreality of it all. She’s changed her number to stop her lovesick boyfriend pestering her.

Add five years to the brunette

Add five years to the brunette

Her holiday in London is almost over. It’s a breath of fresh air to walk around free and anonymous. She’s had a Starbucks and eavesdropped on the proles lamenting their mundane concerns. Now she’s eating a sandwich in the basement cafe in Top Shop. She checks her watch and decides to browse more high street fashion. As she begins to walk further into the shop, displaying a sultry long-legged strut, a man taps her arm.

“Hi. I have to tell you something. You have a lovely walk. Like an angry cat.”

She blushes, eyes wide open. “Um…. thank you.”

“You look Serbian” he guesses. “It’s the black hair, long legs, and crazy eyes.”

She giggles. “No. I’m Romanian”

He seems crestfallen. “Oh no. My mum warned me about Romanian girls. She said three things. They are all sexy”. He checks her out from head to toe. “Good at cooking. And sex maniacs.”

Yes chaps, it really was that romantic.

Her eyes spazz out immediately, the crackle of DNA-matching fizzing across the air. I know this girl really fancies me. After finding out her crappy logistics I take a number and suggest meeting later the same evening. Surprisingly she tells me the hotel she’s staying at (five star, Kensington) and suggest I call her in a few hours. I do. Perhaps over-emboldened from my recent run of SDLs I think its on for another but….. no. We have a few drinks in her hotel lobby and just kiss. The emotional connection is good. I have no trouble showing the right mix of confidence and vulnerability. Bhodi has his little theory about these types of girls – greyhounds, I think the term is. Girls who have:

  • Beautiful proportions mixing long legs, good height but also real curves
  • Intelligence and a well-rounded education
  • Social and physical grace
  • Always an 8 or better
Many vampire jokes were told

Many vampire jokes were told

He opines that such high quality girls are extremely difficult for the average player to catch but counter-intuitively easier for men like me. As Sherlock Holmes said “Mediocrity cannot recognise anything higher than itself. Talent recognises genius.” These girls just smell the quality on me and want it. My Euro-harem is stocked with them and they all look from the same mould. It goes well and I think I might get the lay but she controls herself and eventually runs off to her room. Bugger. As I take the night bus home alone we fall into a text exchange:

Me: You had difficulty controlling yourself there :P

Her: Yes. I succeeds ;)

Me: Does that make you a lucky or unlucky girl? Anyway, it was a lovely evening. Sweet dreams.

Her: I’ve never slept with a stranger. I don’t know how I would feel next day. You were very disappointed I think.

Me: You didn’t disappoint me. It’s just bad luck we don’t have time

Her: Yes. But you can visit Romania perhaps

Me: That’s too much too soon, girl. I know some good English pubs.

Her: Nice :) We can talk tomorrow

Me: Between now and then, get some sleep. I expect interesting conversation.

Her: Between now and then I shall masturbate :)

Me: Send me a text when you’re done

Her: (half an hour later) I’m done!

Me: I approve. Good girl :)

Next evening she comes around to my part of town on a promise of coffee and Italian food. She texts to ask if its a high class place that requires heels. I say wear heels because you’re a feminine woman who likes to look nice. As soon as she shows up in the pub all the heads are turning. She has that imperious air of a woman used to commanding attention and being waited on. One hell of a strut. As she sits down she tells me to order her a glass of wine. “The bar is over there” I reply, not moving. After a pout she orders, fending off two different chodes who can’t help but open her.

I walk her to Pizza Express. Classy. We split the bill. She tells me that’s never happened before. I drink her wine too.

Back at my house we are soon in bed but I’m on the receiving end of hardcore LMR. It turns out she’s on the rag too so I settle for a blowjob in the morning before packing her off in a taxi and a few hours later she’s jetting back to Transylvania. I’m mildly put out that I didn’t close her. She’s a tough nut, having had only two partners in the past ten years, but I did have her in bed overnight so…. meh! Chalk it to the game.

We Skype for a couple of days. It’s snowing outside my window and the weather forecast is for zero degrees the coming week. Spain and Greece at +20C…. my mind turns. I fancy some hot weather and duty-free whiskey. A bit more on Skype and we agree to meet for a couple of nights in the Med. I book a double room. There’s a different wrinkle added to game when you actually travel to close a girl… the frame is very different. There’s alot riding on it. Different pitfalls to avoid.

Her hometown, yesterday

Her hometown, yesterday

Down in the Med we check in and then explore the town. Some local cuisine and I hit the beer a bit harder than planned. She’s keeping a slow pace. I hit a rich vein of form and I swear this girl has never been gamed before. Every spike hits. Every joke. Every push-pull. She’s eating out of my hand. There’s a multi-millionaire a short private jet ride away pining for her, a guy who showered her with the best life can buy – Ferraris, Canne’s Film Festival VIP rooms, holiday homes in the tropics… and here she is drinking cheap lager in a dive bar with me, cooing and laughing when I call her a gypsy giraffe. Personal charismatic value > Money.

Game works. Never forget that.

Back at the hotel I fuck her senseless. What a cracking figure! Gazelle-like in the smooth long limbs and an expertly installed set of falsies. There’s literally not a single thing I’d change on her body. The sex is rough. I have her telling me she’s my bitch. After, I read her a Little Miss book (you can probably guess which one) which hits beautifully, making her jump me again. While I’m slamming her over the writing desk she gasps “You are hurting my ovaries!”

Lying stretched out in bed with her, both of us glistening with post-fuck sweat:

Me: Put one hand on my cock, and the other on my balls.

Her: Why? Does that turn you on?

Me: No. You’re Romanian and I don’t want to get up to lock my wallet in the safe.

Heh!

Just stop for a moment to think…. how thoroughly I broke her frame. She’s a chaste girl, a monogamist who spent her twenties with only two men. People defer to her constantly. And I douchebag-gamed her into putting out on the third date. Big time. Inevitably there’s blow back.

It begins as I’m trying to sleep. She sobs, tells me it was never in her plan to have sex. She can’t sleep all night. In the morning she gives me shit all the way to lunch. She’s angry, she tells me. I remain unapologetic and unreactive, letting the hamster run itself into exhaustion. It’s a major shit test, trying to reassert her princess frame that I should dance to her tune. I flat out tell her she’s only angry because I fucked her on my timetable not hers. Gradually she softens. Then its business as usual.

The strongest reality always wins.

What your choice of video game says about your SMP rank

I’m in a frivilous mood so here’s an idea I’m throwing out only half-seriously, one that came to me while trying to decide which game to play once I’ve finished the new Rage DLC (scorchers). The male domination hierarchy drives not just how women respond to you sexually but also your self-image, other men’s reactions, and the type of entertainment you’ll pursue. Our identities are expressed through our consumption choices, our fashion choices, and how we spend our time. So let’s apply that to video games.

Alpha: Command & Conquer, Rome Total War, Evil Genius

Bang! Smash! Kill!

Bang! Smash! Kill!

The alpha male sits atop the male hierarchy giving orders to his lackeys then sitting back to smoke a cigar while he watches the world be remade in his image. He’s intensely competitive and loves to exercise his will upon a hostile world. He seeks decisive victory. Thus what better games than those where he commands armies, ripping thousands of little computer people from their little computer homes and sending them to certain death as they scythe through enemy lands looting and pillaging.

Sigma: Far Cry 3, Hitman Absolution, Dark Souls

Hunt and kill

Hunt and kill

The sigma walks alone on the fringes of society, heedless of its demands and determined to make his own way. The world is a playground and his mission to perfect his own skills for his own sake, to extract from it the little he needs to get by. He wishes for no affiliations, no crusade to join. So what better games than an open world sandbox with animals to hunt, pirates to assassinate, factions to play off against each other and the whole thing played at your own pace, free to pick and choose your own action? Who is a more symbolic archetype of the sigma mindset than the international assassin?

Beta: Gears of War, Call of Duty (single player), Battlefield

Yes, there's a woman in there. Sassy.

Yes, there’s a woman in there. Sassy.

Beta males are followers. They are looking for a cause higher than their own, to be pointed in a direction then sent off to surmount the obstacles and prove their worth. Thus we have long-winded save-the-world campaigns where you slot into a fire-team and play “follow the NPC”. There’s so much gushing about defending your homeland, team spirit and yes…. duty. I’ve replaced COD multiplayer (a lone-wolf twitch-fest) with Battlefield because the later better expresses the coordinated teamwork and class-based role-following that appeals to the beta drone.

Gamma: Final Fantasy, Mass Effect, Metal Gear Solid

Low testosterone environment

Low testosterone environment

The gamma male is tortured by the cognitive dissonance between his self-perceived superiority (springing from his high intelligence) and his actual lowly SMP rank (springing from his feminisation). This conflict expresses itself in snark, excessive complication, and an appreciation for labyrinthian story-based RPGs that reward obsessive play. If the boring long-winded too-smart-by-half snarky lefty anti-capitalist message of MGS isn’t proof enough, just look at a photo of its creator Hideo Kojima. A high-acheiving gamma if ever there was one. Gammas want to play games that remind them how clever they are. They want to be the reluctant hero who saves the world he holds in contempt. They want the final cut-scene that vindicates them for being right all along. And they really like feminised bland characters.

Omega: World of Warcraft, Skyrim

No toilets to get your head flushed down

No toilets to get your head flushed down

The thing omegas have far more than everyone else is time. With no social life to distract them the omega is free to over-invest in endless grinding RPGs, building a virtual self that can rank higher than his real-world incarnation. Online, no-one knows you’re a dog. The omega can access social communication through MMORPGs but with buffers that avoid the real world rejection he is used to. In Skyrim he can lose himself completely in a fully-featured virtual world where he is always the hero. This is the true escapism.

An overreach?

BTW, I’d love to know how the Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres are mapped by SMP rank. I don’t read much but I’d guess Asimov is for gammas, Herbert for betas, Star Trek for manginas and Doctor Who for omegas. However, I don’t know the scene well enough to judge.

Setting the frame in Skype sex chat

An integral part of maintaing a Euro-harem is facebook and skype. Such a wonderful technology for building rapport, attraction and keeping yourself entertained over long distances. As a favour to my dear readers I’ll go into detail on how to set up a good sex chat. Remember that birds don’t think like us and get turned on by different things. Keep this in mind at all times. How do you want her to feel, how do you want to move things along…. Girls get turned on by the psychological interplay and environmental scenario of sex. You want to be getting that right before moving on to the in-out part of the sex. Here’s a chat from last night where I had Serb A masturbating. Read and learn.

Vegas 01

1. I want to pull her in with something that has immediate buy-in while also covertly emphasising that I’m making this up as I go along and thus its showing my spontaneous creativity. She has no doubts this is a personalised experience so that ups the attraction and rapport.

2. Details, details, details! You are feeding her imagination, in this case the archetypal road trip. I had in mind the road scene from Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. Picture it in your own mind and then paint a picture with a few brush strokes. Make those details masculine and cool.

3. Don’t forget her other senses. Men are visual but women want to know the touch and smell.

4. It’s playful. Don’t take yourself seriously. Give her little images that bind her to you specifically, imagining how you are not just a random male.

5. Drop in your own habits that she knows you have. Girls know I care about good whiskey and Cuban cigars. It all builds that little world to suck her in and feel right there, next to you.

6. Tell her what she’s doing. What she’s doing in the story sets the frame for how she will act, which part of her character will come out. How would this story go differently if I’d said “You have your head buried in a book, something long-winded from Tolstoy”? Not necessarily worse but all the details need to be consistent with where you plan on taking this. I want it to be a wild adventurous story. If I’d wanted to paint her as timid and nerdy I’d have used the Tolstoy line.

7. Bring her in as a co-creator on the non-essential elements, make her work a little and feel some influence.

Vegas 02

8. Future projections always have an element of farce from her. She’s a silly little girl who would soon send the world spiralling into chaos without your firm hand to keep things in order. Put her in the clumsy box.

9. This is telling her which character to play and how to feel. The energy is high, flirty, adventurous. Much different to her pulling out a flask of cold tea (which would subconsciously lead to a relaxed, not hot, vibe).

10. This time I’m playing up her agency, letting her be predator. It suits her temperament and switches things up from the usual where I dominate everything. This story is about her being wild and horny, chasing me, impressing herself upon me because she wants the sex. A nice frame.

11. More colour to feed her imagination, more fleshing out of the uninhibited bad girl character I’m setting her up as. While typing I considered having her flash her tits at the drivers but it felt wrong so I toned it down.

12. Tell her how to feel. You tell her to be hot, excited, sexy, hungry, desperate or whatever. Not bored. Never bored. You are building the emotional linkage now for how you want her to generally feel around you in future.

13. I’m reluctant. I have a mission that she’s distracting me from. Ease her into that qualifying frame where you have the value and she’s trying to persuade you to have sex. Notice I’ve built up to it, after scene setting. It feels natural within the story.

Vegas 03

14. Playfully reassert the frame that she’s a force of chaos.

15. She needs a reward for this sexually exciting behviour. She wants you to be turned on at the thought of fucking her. And girls get a spike from hearing about hard dicks.

16. Don’t lose track of the little environmental details that make the story feel real. I get more inconsequential buy-in from her.

17. More of her as sexual predator, escalating.

Vegas 04

18. She’s winning me over now. I’m finally throwing away my cigar and turning my mind to fucking her. She gets the thrill of validation.

19. Continuing on the theme of her being the wild uninhibited ball of steamy sexual energy. I want her to know she can be like this with me in real life. It’s all a set-up for future actual sex. Giving her permission to bring out this side of her.

20. Reward and qualification. Tell the girl what you like about her, what turns you on. You’ll get more of it in future.

Vegas 05

21. Detail, detail, detail. Put yourself into the story and communicate with your senses. Pick out a smell, a touch, a quirky detail and make it come alive. Girls put themselves deep into the story so feed that.

22. At several points in the story I hammer home her obsession with my dick. Girls are obsessed with dick, that’s just life. Play on it, position her as obsessed with your dick. Frame her as worshipping the cock, her biggest source of happiness.

23. You’ll get this alot. Accept it, enjoy it. Girls want to work for you.

24. Ah, the danger element of public sex. I like to throw in unforeseen plot elements. A few weeks earlier we were having sex in an underground hidden WWII-era Luftwaffe airfield. Mid-way through she clumsily kicked over a helmet and the resulting clang woke up the Nazi zombies. Plot twists!

25. A roughness-dominance spike that flows seamlessly from the narrative.

26. Still letting her be the predator.

Vegas 06

27. We are a long way into this story and I still haven’t fucked her. As the storyteller, I’m making her wait, building up her anticipation, letting her get wetter and wetter. This is frame control – the sex proceeds on my timetable. She’s naked before me.

28. Hammering the frame of wildness. Telling her how desperate she is for my dick inside her.

29. I’m taking control. She’s turned me on enough to earn a fuck so now she’s going to get one. She’s no longer the predator, I’m driving this figuratively as well as literally.

30. Decisive manly action. I’m in charge now so the little details reflect that. She’s going into the docile “waiting to be fucked” mode. Which she wants. No girl can remain predator with me.

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