Krauser PUA

Mythologies

December 2, 2012
krauserpua

While I was living in Tokyo my co-worker told me about a highly regarded domestic whiskey called Yamazaki. It has a peaty smokey taste coming from an unusual casking procedure up in the mountainous hot springs region slightly north of Tokyo. While I was travelling up in Nikko I visited one of the small hole-in-the-wall whiskey joints they have around the rural train station square and fell into conversation with the owner. He must’ve been into his seventies but still had that gruff clipped demeanour of the old generation – the yamato damashi Japanese spirit. When I asked for a Yamazaki single malt his eyes lit up and he regalled me with the history of the drink.

Total war

Back in the Meiji Restoration (1868) the Emperor waged a power struggle with the Shogun that culminated in a major battle as depicted in the Tom Cruise movie The Last Samurai. Leading up to this samurai showdown was a strange stand-off just twenty kilometres south of where I sat on my tatami mat sipping the whiskey. The Emperor’s army had moved north supported by American rifles and camped out on the south of two large thinly-wooded hills. The Shogun host was on the north side. It was a standoff because whoever advanced into the marshy clearing between was at significant disadvantage.

A local whiskey maker, just a ramshackle operation out of one large barn, had begun to supply both sides. As the standoff stretched from one day to a whole week the amassed troops eagerly bought whatever he put in front of them. Before long he was sourcing whiskey from nearby villages and having it shuttled through forest trails at night under cover of darkness, a team of local boys carrying small casks on their backs as they slip past bribed sentries. For a week raucus singing was heard around campfires and the local whiskey maker Shigeru Yamazki filled his coffers…. then suddenly one day the armies moved, a decisive battle was fought, and like a passing tornado the villages were returned to their normal quiet state.

Mr Yamazaki had positioned himself as the biggest whiskey maker in the district, a position his descendents hold to this day. He’s since sold on the brand to Japan’s huge corporation Suntory. Locals of Nikko still remember the story.

Deep and rich, like my bank account

Ok, I lied. Every word of the above is a sheer fabrication. But ask yourself this given the following two choices:

Suntory Yamazaki 12 year malt or
Sainsbury’s own brand

Which one will give you the greater satisfaction when putting a slug of whiskey over some ice cubes then sitting back, your feet up, unwinding after a day in the office? Marketers know that we prefer to buy experiences and symbols than mere products. I’d rather smoke a Cohiba Esplendido as smoked by Fidel Castro and Che Guevara, plugging myself into the long lineage of Cuban culture than an equally fine Honduran cigar form Carlos de No-Name’s plantation.

One question I’m asked about Game is how do you avoid player ennui? How do you avoid that empty feeling that its all pointless and women are just stimulus-responders to run the same model on over and over again until you just want to shut yourself into a room and cry. My answer is to mythologise them.

Mythology Game: Create grand narratives of evocative symbolism, sweeping histories that you can insert the woman into and give her a role to strive to fill

This is value-added game. Reductionists will dehumanise interactions to reduce Game down to a mechanical system – a blueprint, a sequence, a secret code. You apply the code on the lizards / HBs / sluts / girls until you achieve your notch. If you reduce male-female interactions down to the notch you are painting yourself into a corner. You’ll find:

You target venues where women are at their least interesting, such as nightclubs or online dating sites. Not only are you positioning yourself into a millieu which dehumanises the experience but you are also self-selecting the worst of women
Your game model funnels girls into a particular role – the target. She understands this. At a meta-level you are leading her to be a co-participant in squalid meaningless sex. Girls who reject this position will be screened out. Girls who are in the grey area are stripped of their better features
The experience is framed as squalid, so you pilot it that direction

Run this over and over again and of course you’ll have no respect for the women you fuck and this will soon bleed out into a lack of respect for yourself. You are NLPing yourself into misery. Compound this with the dopamine addiction of new lays. Not good. Why not make the process work for you by directing it towards increasing your long-term satisfaction? That’s reality weaving, what I consider to be the next jump forwards in Game.

Try to find the good in everybody and everything that you interact with

Say you are lying on your bed now, your logical forebrain in control. Perhaps you worry about a deadline at work or you are mentally reorganising your Xbox gaming schedule to make sure you can level up on Black Ops 2 but still finish Hitman Absolution. Pull your mind out of the future and live the power of now. Feel your toes. Wiggle them. Enjoy the sensation of sending signals to your toes and making them move. Feel the cotton duvet under your fingertips, the soft duck down of the pillow as it cushions your head. There’s a satisfying plume of heat blowing out the fan of your laptop, like warming your hands over a radiator on a snowy winter’s day after your breath has formed perspiration clouds in the crisp air.

You get to decide how much you enjoy your experiences. You get to decide the symbolism you put onto them. Use that to make your life richer.

KGB 2012 collection

Use symbolism to make your girl more interesting to you. She’s Romanian? Slip in callback humour about her being a vampire. Build a whole mythology around it. She’s the last of a long line of vampires from a dark old castle tucked deep in the Carpathian mountains. At night when she closes her Skype she walks over to the windows and looks for miles across dark forests, mist swirling around the treetops and over the vines that snake up the cliff face. Keep the symbolism going, embellish it, get her playing along. She’s Russian? Now she’s a KGB agent like Xenia Onatopp, a top assassin who seduces high-placed diplomats in casinos on the French riviera. Get her talking in an exaggerated Russian accent, encourage her to wear fur hats, call her Comrade when you’re in restaurants.

Women spend their whole lives daydreaming of romance stories. They are desperate to be whisked out of the dreary monotony of the daily grind. Whisk her away mentally. Importantly, you are doing this for yourself. By bringing out the best in her, by fitting her into your favourite mythology, you enrich the experience for yourself. She’s no longer “girl A”. You are co-conspirators in an adventure full of fire, passion and imagination.

Consider routine mechanical dating to be like reading a school textbook or the local free newspaper. Like a repetitive modern dance song. It’s a passionless mediocre affair. How much more fun it is to read a ripping yarn, an adventurous period piece (say Count of Monte Cristo) or to immerse yourself in an amazing song. It’s still just you lying on your bed in your dressing gown but your mind is in the clouds and your heart is beating with the blood of a thousand warriors.

Bring the best out of your women. Mythologise your dating life.

* NSFW link to those Russian birds.

Game theory has its own life cycle

November 30, 2012
krauserpua

C. Wright Mills popularised the idea of the sociological imagination, the central idea being he “felt that the central task for sociology and sociologists was to find (and articulate) the connections between the particular social environments of individuals (also known as “milieu”) and the wider social and historical forces in which they are enmeshed.” In many respects this means observing humans as actors within small ecosystems with feedback loops and risk/reward systems. It’s common to take this perspective when analysing society through the Game lens. It’s also interesting to zoom out on a meta-level and apply it to the community itself.

The original meta-frame of Mystery/Style/DavidDeAngelo-era Game was pretty simple and sometimes explicitly stated: young beautiful women have a higher SMV than men and thus efforts must be made to bridge the gap until a small window of opportunity arises where relative values are close enough to open her legs, at which point you close. That gap can be bridged by chipping down her value with negs, raising you value with routines / preselection, or even controlling the environment to provide your own pedestal (such as entourage game). Consider the ecosystem from which this frame arose.

Self improvement begins with an ill-fitting blue shirt on every fucking video

Reading through the seminal The Game book it’s obviously not the story of the world’s coolest seducers clacking scores of hot women. The 2002 community was the story of nerdy losers tired of having their heads flushed down the toilet at school and decamping to LA to circle-jerk. A LAN party without the computers. They’d then go out every night and feed women social fuel, considering a success any interaction that doesn’t involve getting laughed at and their head flushed down the toilet. These were insecure men with very low expectations. Hardly anyone gets laid in The Game and the two hottest chicks are a thoroughly unpleasant and mediocre Katya (Mystery’s oneitis) and a vile mannish trollop (Style’s eventual oneitis). Look at the women the original gurus date and you’ll see low expectations written all over the project. I’ll call this Aspy Game and it’s characterised by:

Obsession with linear programming / engineering of secret systems that simply need to be learned and applied (e.g. the M3 model)
Dogmatic literal interpretation of evolutionary biology
Commodifying human interaction into programmable units that are endlessly sub-divisable (e.g the Opener, the forward stack, the roll-off)
Dehumanising the participants as mere occupants of a social role such as PUA, HB, Wing, Cockblock, AFC, AMOG etc

AMOGed and herbified by a raging manjaw

I don’t mean to deny this phase had value (I still rate Mystery’s original book as a core text) but it’s quite clearly an infant discipline, somewhat analogous to the functionalism movement in sociology (try reading Talcott Parsons to see the same mindset in action). The main outcome and undeclared purpose of the whole meta-frame is to depersonalise and externalise Game. It is something outside you.

Action leads to reaction so by the mid-2000s there was the pushback and phase two being the RSD-led hippy touchy-feely natural game. This is roughly analogous to the ethnomethodology / interactionist movement in sociology that sprung up in the late 60s. They rejected the cold impersonal system-building of the functionalists and zoomed in on the energy flow and symbolism of small-scale social action. The meta-frame of Mystical Game is that we are all in our heads, these structures don’t really exist but are illusory and constantly renegotiated between the participants. It’s characterised by:

Obsession with rejecting and transgressing social norms (e.g. beasting, AA-busting pranks)
An overestimation of internal state and it’s ability to suck people in, an underestimation of social structures and people’s stubborn insistence on clinging to them
Fluid equivocating definitions of terms. It’s all a flow. Read more Tolle
Self acceptance and living to your own values
Reading the social matrix at the level of small groups of actors (e.g. in a club)

This is quite understandable as a reaction to Aspy Game as those dedicated original LA nerds had internalised the lessons of 2002-era game well enough to jettison their original low expectations and look for the next plateau-busting themes. Tyler explicitly explains their motivations in the first hour of The Blueprint Decoded. The big problem with ignoring the real world of value and social structure, however, is it bites you in the ass. RSD-types are weird cultist self-helpy schlubs (e.g. Roger) or embarrassing awkward social violators (the Beasts). Denying reality is a fast-track to disappearing up your own arse.

An Eastern guru worth following

Towards 2008 we got the next wave, the meta-frame of Alpha Asshole. Social structure was back in focus but with conflict at its heart. The 2002 guys viewed themselves as outsiders in a system they otherwise mostly accepted as legitimate – functionalists are interested in the forces that keep society functioning. The 2008 guys are more like the Marxists of sociology (ironically) in which society is by nature antagonistic, full of competing interest groups jostling for advantage (men, women, feminists, MRAs, white knights, betas, douchebags, bad boys, nice guys, cougars etc). The Alpha Assholes describe the faultlines of social conflict and then advise how to secure membership of the likely winner – the aloof game-adept alpha bad boy. Like most social theories you can quickly understand it’s flavour by looking at the time and place it developed – east coast metropolitan America – and the men who created it – early middle-age white professional men. The meta-frame is characterised by:

Obsession with sexual market rank, in particular to achieve Alpha and reject Beta
An overestimation of people’s adversarial and self-interested intention to screw you over
Humorous, non-PC, taboo-breaking definitions of people and their behaviour
Embracing high self-regard
Reading the social matrix at a macro-level (e.g. demographic trends)

I think this wave will run its course soon. The internet is a fast-moving place and literally hundreds of blogs are rapidly mapping out the territory until there’ll be nothing left to say within that paradigm. It’s also gradually being replaced by the latest meta-frame of Galt Game. While the Alpha Assholes are learning to work the Western niche to score skanky bar pussy, ever-increasing numbers of men are looking to redesign their lives to insert themselves into favourable environments (e.g. ex-pats) and to unplug from the corporate grind. Mostly a younger generation who completely missed 2002 and 2006 Game these men don’t aspire to the white-picket fence respectability of their grandfathers. The meta-frame is characterised by:

Obsession with finding the mythical pussy paradise
An overestimation of no-skill “hacks” and passive income, an underestimation of the need to have a real employable skill
Glorification of freedom, travel and living life on your own terms
Tension between laziness to get things easy, and genuine drive towards self-improvement (gym, grooming, wide reading etc)
Dispensing with grand theory and looking to accumulate cliffs notes on “what works”

It represents an individual solution of “how do I get mine” rather than still holding on to the male role as a provider, protector and participant in public life. The big weakness with Galt Game will come down to age differences – it’s quite easy for a 35 year old man to shake off the parasites and live as an international man of mystery. He has already spent his 20s building a marketable career skill (or his own business) and developed fluid intelligence. 35 years of accumulation can now be cashed in. A 22 year old boy seduced by the same freedom porn is like a 19 year old hottie seduced by the cock carousel, unaware that the ride has to end. What is fresh and exciting at 22 is often loserdom at 35. Galting your way through your twenties without an accumulation phase will lead to:

Severly constrained job opportunities and thus inability to switch paths
Rootless, aimless life where no place is home and no strong social group you can claim as your own
Player ennui from addiction to the dopamine hit of new women
Misanthropy from conceiving yourself as an outsider and from reducing male-female contact to a frenzied animal coupling
Existential angst from linking your self-esteem to your success with women

That’s the glass-is-half-empty version for young kids to avoid. The glass-half-full-version is very satisfying indeed. I don’t mean to disparage any meta-frame unduly. It simply interests me to see the long-term trends in social thought and how they develop. One characteristic of the wise man is his ability to step back and understand not just the rules of the game but who created those rules and whose interests they serve.

I bang my first 21 year old Serbian volleyball player

November 28, 2012
krauserpua

Another day, another Serb.

The Lord’s year of 2012 has been an interesting one in my upward ascent towards achieving the success with women that I’d like. Scanning back through my voluminous archives a keen observer could characterise 2009 as my Beginner’s Hell. That’s when I first learned about Game and committed to a program of cold approaching and skills acquisition, self-consciously trying to become a PUA. I didn’t get laid at all in 2009, running around like the kind of clueless dickhead I now make fun of. It was a rough year and by far the longest dry spell of my adult life. I rang in 2010 by knobbing a chubby black chick I’d brought home after a New Years Eve party, my first game-inspired lay. You could characterise this second year as being my transition from chode to pussyhound, hardly an honourable title but the rewards had begun to trickle in. From May that year I began a one-year spree of knocking over at least one new girl every single calendar month, none of them rotters. I was obsessed with chasing women, reshaping my whole life around it, determined to “get this area handled”. 2011 continued the batting streak but with a notable jump in quality and also a jump in the fun I was having. Inner game work was paying off and reference experiences piled up. I no longer felt broken inside. My personal version of game was fine-tuned to get the women I want in the way I want them.

What I want, where I want it

2012 has been my year of maturity…. to the extent that banging a load of women and then posting about it on the internet can be called mature. This year has slightly edged out 2011 in both quantity and quality but with a work rate far far below the previous three years. Pulling a random number out my arse, I’d say I’ve churned out only 30% as many approaches I did in years 2010/11 and about the same fraction of dates. I’ve focused on lifestyle choices (non-girl related) yet somehow managed to score younger-hotter-tighter with only a fraction of the effort. Now this new Serb girl let me close out the year with a bang (so to speak). Hottest girl of the year. Pull up a chair, ease into your favourite slippers, and I’ll recount the tale…..

As an international man of mystery I take great pleasure in wandering the globe, setting up little hubs of familiarity where I can retreat when London life tires me. Lithuania and Croatia top my list but I’m on the lookout for others. While driving around the former-Yugoslavia in April Jimmy and I squeezed in a day in Belgrade. It seemed promising so I went back with Bhodi and Robusto for a week in July, knocking over a local girl and getting some hot leads that justified a return. Return I did, somewhat tramuatising another local girl and it was then, in September, that I met Giraffe.

Add a little puppy fat and that’s her

Giraffe is a sweet young student with long long legs and smooth clean lines. Quite the head turner, my head was turned as she walked down the main shopping street so I gave chase and ran my usual street patter. She’s the kind of girl who is so striking that it’s easy to bail out assuming she’s too hot, but 2012 is the year I came to really feel I am the best offer a girl will ever get. I took a number then had a Day 2 later that evening and spent most of the next afternoon (my last) walking the riverfront. No kiss.

This presents a problem best solved by Long Game. Much of my early Facebook stuff on this blog went nowhere, clumsy attempts to stumble in the dark as I figure out how to use the medium. By the time I get Giraffe online I’m working to a well-practiced system so we are soon sex-chatting. Concurrently, I have another Serb in a holding pattern (also beautiful) so I apply myself to setting up a Belgrade visit for November. It’s a logistic and frame control nightmare to handle the following problems:

Serb A (Giraffe) has never kissed me and is still doing some push-back on the frame. If I’m going all the way to Belgrade just to see her I might as well toss the frame into the river. I need an additional lure.
Serb B (Singer) lives in a small town several hours from Belgrade and tells me her traditional parents won’t allow her to see me, so can I come to her town?
Serb A has only slept with one man. Girls like that are quite a challenge to close quickly
Serb B is verbalising her hamster spins with an effective push-pull of liking me but not being “that kind of girl”

Things eventually get to a point where Serb B has gotten permission from her parents to visit Belgrade so she will spend Friday and Saturday with me. Serb A will clear her Sunday for me. Because I rate both girls highly (solid 8s, and very pleasant people) I’m not looking for a pump’n’dump. Also, being somewhat chastised by my experience with the previous Serb (Dancer) I really hope things will go well into the medium term. I tell both girls I’ll be meeting other friends in Belgrade and Zagreb hence my narrow window of availability, keeping it vague.

Three days before the trip Serb B bails, saying her parents revoked permission. I’m not impressed and tell her as much. It’s one thing to be easy going and “nothing is ever a big deal” but quite another when you explicitly tell a girl you are coming to visit her specifically, she agrees, you buy a ticket, then she bails. I tell her we shouldn’t talk to each other again. It’s not just a gamey push-away (though it works to that effect), I’m no longer willing to put myself out for this girl. She’s obviously in a spin over the whole situation and ends up confronting her parents and compromising with a daytrip (Saturday)…. but I have a new headache because I’d since told Serb A I have all weekend free…… I fly into Belgrade considering the following as an acceptable holiday-success scenario:

Eat good food and read a book
Advance both girls to the point where next time is a guaranteed lay
Get one promising new lead from street game

I needn’t have worried.

Right from my arrival, Giraffe is well into me. She’s cleared her diary completely so as to spend every minute with me. Early afternoon she meets me at my apartment then we head out for lunch at a lovely old bistro where I’m buzzing with positive energy. She looks great, the vibe is great, and I just love being in downtown Belgrade eating good food and sipping local coffee. I do a little kino testing, playing with her hair and fingers, then we mutually suggest returning to my apartment to sleep off the food. Lying next to her on the bed, fully clothed, listening to Spotify, I’m still acutely aware we haven’t even kissed. How difficult is this woman? You lose nothing as a man by pushing so I pull her in and kiss close. She’s enthusiastic so I keep pushing. There’s a few mutterings of “this is fast” and “we should slow down” but within twenty minutes I’m banging her.

Glory be, praise the Lord! It’s such a fulfilling experience to look down at a beautiful young woman writhing and moaning underneath you, knowing it’s all happened because you saw her in the street and made it happen. Lovely girl, great fuck. We chill out for another hour or two, have a nap, then more of the same. We spend most of the weekend together in cafes, fancy restaurants, and walking by the river. It fits my image exactly of the kind of guy I want to be, living the kind of life I want to live. Dozens of times over the weekend I find myself looking at her nuzzled up in the crook of my arm with a satisfied smile, padding around my apartment in her underwear singing, on my arm in the street as the locals give us inquisitive looks, and think “fuck me, I’m really living this”.

Fuck me, I’m really living this

Saturday lunchtime I send her home for a few hours so I can meet Serb B. As I wait in a cafe off Republic Square I’m wondering where I’m at. Mostly I’m gratified that I didn’t get player ennui with Giraffe. Even in the ten minute window after shooting my muck over her (usually my extreme low point of interest in a girl) I felt satisfied having her around, a feeling I interpret to mean the quality and suitability of the girl is crucial to me and yet another reason not to bang rotters. My thoughts turn to Singer and whether it’ll be the satisfaction or the ennui with her, and how interested canI be in a girl I only saw while drunk one night? Then she glides into the seat next to me and all doubts vanish – she’s lovely. Beautiful, elegant, immaculately dressed… she’s like a Serbian Kate Bush. Far more chatty than Giraffe I get a completely different (and just as pleasant) vibe as we progress to lunch. She won’t come into my apartment and is quite pressed for time so we walk around the old fort. It’s really quite romantic, enough to warm the cold hard rock I have for a heart.

but speaks Cyrillic

I put her in a taxi knowing full well this is proceeding nicely. It’ll have to wait a while, but this girl will be part of my 2013. I see out the remainder of the weekend with Giraffe then jet home on Monday with a rucksack full of fine whiskey and a heart full of song. Life is good.

When deep conversion goes wrong, it does so dramatically

November 26, 2012
krauserpua

I’ve had alot of emails asking me for the inside track on Deep Conversion / Soul Collection, as I’m constantly talking around the subject on this blog. Yes I have a fully fledged how-to theory and yes it’s broken down into six one-hour powerpoint presentations. Yes I could write a book about it.

Yes, I turned down seconds.

But really, I’m not going to share this information. It’s powerful stuff and very damaging in the wrong hands. Sometimes those wrong hands are my own. Consider this message from a girl I hadn’t heard from at all since dumping her:

It’s bad enough that I sometimes create such bad feeling. Women are no angels. For as long as they are allowed to vote, drive and own shares then they’ll have to also be responsible for their own lives. So I’m not beating myself up over this one. But I’m not sharing.

Ask yourself if your PUA method is a load of shit

November 26, 2012
krauserpua

A few weeks ago Roosh was in town so me and my buddy Steve had a few beers with him. It turned into quite a spirited chat on travel, girls and game. One topic was on what I label “value-based game“. Much of pick up teaching is focused on the in-set technical behaviours that are meant to shuttle you through the stages of your model. Taken to extremes this can lead you to becoming an approach machine, obsessing over micro-managing your technique and over-thinking it all. I’m all in favour of getting the technique right but lets not kid ourselves over it’s importance.

Men can mentally undress women in seconds. No amount of makeup and careful fashion styling can fool a sober man in the cold light of day. We are hard-wired to deconstruct a woman’s facial symmetry, proportions, posture, body fat, skin elasticity and so on. Where her grooming hides something we are instinctively attuned to watch for any movement, gesture or ray of light that fills in that blank. Put simply, men know how to assess the physical value of a women very very quickly. And once sussed out, 90% of women have already been screened in or out. It’s only in the grey areas, at the fringes of indecision, where grooming is make or break (extreme faux pas aside).

A low-value PUA method

Women are the same. They are hardwired to sniff out your value. If you don’t have it, all the technique in the world won’t save you. Being overly reliant on technique makes you one of those clowns running up and down Oxford Street opening 100 women in order to get one lay with the 95th-ugliest of them. As I’ve said before, you do have to put the time in. Just keep it in proportion while you also work on your value.

Unfortunately, marketing a PUA method towards the Technique Junkies is an easy sell. It requires the student ask few hard questions of himself and make few changes to his life. You may think you are giving it 100% by going out several times a week but unless you are assessing your whole life pattern, chances are you’re setting yourself an Ego Trap to avoid dealing with the main issues, issues that are still to painful to address.

The PUA industry has created its own little sub-ecosystem of junkies and enablers. Small companies of pretenders use smoke ‘n’ mirrors marketing guff to get technique junkies to pay to feel like they are really making changes. Think of it as the PUA version of a strip mall ninjitsu / tae kwon do club – the teachers pretend to teach and the students pretend to learn. If enough cheques clear, the student advances up the belt structure until he’s a fully-fledged blackbelt…. who can’t fight. This business model works because it requires little skill from the instructors and neatly sidesteps all the tough grind for the students. In sharp contrast, the attrition rate in a BJJ or boxing gym is horrendous. The brutal ego destruction students receive first time they step on a BJJ mat is enough to send most of them back into the fantasy world of the Karate Kid.

Youtube is full of promo come-ons for rubbishy instructors. My dear readers should be sufficiently savvy to recognise a two-bit operation when they see one so I’ll resist the urge to point and laugh. Women can sniff out the men who aren’t getting laid. Before you hand over money to a coach just size him up and ask yourself “does he look like the kind of guy a hot woman would fuck”?

* EDIT – I removed direct references to one particular company and instructor.

Reframing away a girl’s anti-slut defense

November 21, 2012
krauserpua

It’s unlike me to respond directly to appeals from the unwashed masses but I suppose my last lay report was rather tantalising in omitting details of a pivotal moment – turning her firm no into a firmer yes on the sex date. There’s no magic here but I’ll transcribe the full text chat and add commentary:

Her: (16:39) Hey, I’m sorry I can’t do this. You are amazing, physical you have everything I like in one man but this is not what I am looking for, I tried to tell to myself I could do it, go there have some sex fun whatever and come back home like nothing happen but I can’t.

Deconstructing her girl-talk I read her mental state as follows:

Major anti-slut defense / cold feet as the moment of truth approaches. It’s easy to fantasize about bravery from a distance but once you get up close your hindbrain kicks in. I’d worked this girl so her mind is flooded with mental images of hot sex and she’s naturally enjoyed daydreaming about fantasy sex. But once cold logistics take over, ASD rears its head. This was partly my own fault because I’d framed hard on the casual sex so as not to lead her on into expecting a relationship. If I’d gone full Dark Side with empty promises and sweet nothings this would’ve never come up.
It’s a big ask to require a girl to come directly to your house on a second date, especially when you tell her you have to kick her out at 10pm. There’s a dividing line between enjoyable degradation by an aloof asshole and simply feeling cheap and desperate Girls follow happy feelings and avoid bad feelings.
Major IOIs. No worries at all about attraction nor escalation.
She’s verbalising her inner conflict between arousal and self-image. If you read between the lines girls will tell you how to seduce them. She’s telling me she needs more comfort. Note she’s not telling me I need to promise a relationship – she wants to come but her ASD is holding her back. I see this as her presenting me with a problem she hopes I can solve for her, rather than a firm no. She wants me to overcome her objections.

With this in mind I reply

Me: (16:51) So that sexy underwear and fiery passion will go to waste tonight how disappointing!

Just a few words but consider what is conveyed:

No uncertainty or self-doubt. I’m not fretting that she doesn’t like me enough or that I did something wrong.
Do not ever beg for sex. Whining (“oh, but you promised”), wheedling (“Sweetie, but you are so sexy”), negotiating (“How about I cook a slap up meal”) and convincing (“This will be so much fun for you”) don’t work. I accept sex will not happen tonight because pushing hard will come off needy but I don’t accept her frame that sex won’t happen at all. Assume the sale.
Focus on how we are losing out on a chance for something great. Seduction is a win-win sport so I focus on the (frustrated) mutually beneficial reward.
Keep it positive. Although I express disappointment it’s done playfully rather than all butt-hurt.
Make her feel good with the compliment / qualification. Comfort.
Don’t directly engage in her objections. Her ASD isn’t a real principled objection so addressing it directly will just give it shape and make it harder to shift. Far better to deflect and let it wither. She’s got two basic emotions pulling in opposite directions: arousal to be fucked and anxiety that she’ll feel bad for having casual sex. I focus on heating up the former so it consumes the latter.

Her: (17:28) I’m sorry to disappoint you but im crazy i love sex but not like this. You turn me on a lot you have no idea i think you are a very interesting person but i can’t do it going out from work and go running to have sex with someone i just don’t know. Not so that crazy. Lol

Does this sound like a girl who doesn’t want sex? Of course not, she’s hoping I came overcome the ASD. She’s apologetic and complimentary, feeling bad about disappointing me and hoping I won’t disapprove. She’s still in my frame so I can put her on a compliance ladder to build back up to the booty call, though I don’t want a booty call frame. To deflect this I need to reframe it as a date and apply comfort. Plausible deniability. She knows full well that next time we meet it’s about the sex but if I can throw her hamster a bone, she can quieten him down enough to clear the way for the sex that she so wants.

Me: (17:37) I think you’ll be masturbating this evening 😀 I hope you have a good imagination, so you can vividly feel my hard dick as it slides into you… in and out… until you can’t control your screams 🙂

Her: (18:30) Is nothing that i don’t used to do in this last months ah ahahahah and i am good doing it

Me: (18:51) Imagine I’m in my suit, back from a hard day at the office…

Her: (1853) You are trouble for me…

Me: (18:54) So I put down my briefcase, I’m a bit distracted.. Tell me what you’ll be wearing

Her: (18:55) Just an apron and high heel (just today)

This is all about holding my frame, directing the conversation towards sex, and heating up her arousal. The compliance test is quite mild at first. She wants to be led to my bedroom and I’ve managed to deflect the entire ASD objection without ever directly engaging it. Make your frame a force of nature that cannot be resisted. After a few more sex texts I go to bed. Next afternoon I suggest a date and the rest is simple logistics. I know not to invite her directly to my house lest I revive the same objections so we meet for a drink and then I just lead her home with an air of inevitability.

I bang my first 29 year old Portuguese waitress

November 19, 2012
krauserpua

I’m bored on Saturday evening with nothing better to do than troll OKcupid. Makes a change from running my usual daygame. I send out about thirty messages all exactly the same, to see what happens. About six girls hook and I start a chat with some black American girl. It’s a car crash, she’s just so unfeminine and utterly unable to flirt. What do they teach girls over the Pond? Are they all so vile and unattractive? Everything is a challenge with her so I say no deal and to be frank I don’t think she cares in the slightest. In contrast, this Euro-girl is the very picture of shy femininity. Witness the entire exchange:

That’s classic textbook online game. Really, we wrote an online game book over a year ago and this is precisely the method. Just a shame it’ll never be released. But I digress……Her photos don’t mean much to me one way or the other. There’s a few full-face shots in daylight plus two full body, all with a camera timestamp from within two months. Ok, she’s not bad. Somewhere between 6 and 7 in the way you simply can’t tell online. She’ll do. I’m wavering on whether I can be bothered to go out to meet her but this little text exchange convinces me I’ll enjoy her company:

Her: Hey 8pm its fine i just need to find out where is that station but i will see that when i get home later. You are making me laugh. Are you always like this? “tomorrow. 6pm. Oxford circus.” “give yours”… it seem i am in the army ah ah ah OK ok yes Sir

Me: Good work, soldier

Her: Ah ah ah Miss soldier please

Me: What’s your name?

Her: [weird name] 🙂 yours?

Me: I see. I shall have trouble pronouncing that. I’m Nick

Her: You can call me [less weird name] if you think is more easier for you….

Me: We shall see, young lady. Are you Spanish?

Her: No, I’m from Portugal. And you?

Me: Just so you know, we shall have no talk of Cristiano Ronaldo or cork

Her: Yes Sir. Anything else i should know?

Me: Yes. Dress cute, hair down, and laugh at my jokes. Then I’ll be nice to you

Her: So should I start laughing now? Well i am cute no matter what i have dressed. Have you thought what is cute for me can not be cute for you? I won’t laugh at your jokes if i won’t understand them u have to consider i am not from here and there are a lot of things that i just don’t get it, so i will ask if i don’t get it. Are you willing to explain? Or you just don’t have patience for that? If embarrass you is not sing dance or swear we going to ok because i am too shy to do those things in the first date. Just for you to know so you don’t be disappointed after I don’t use make up or high heels.

Me: Hmmmmm….. Portuguese girls…

Her: ??? Anything wrong with the Portuguese girls?

Me: My mum told me they are all sex maniacs

Her: Ah ah ah but there is any problem in look like a sweet little librarian but in private with you bf, husband, partner whatever being a sex maniac?

Me: I think I’m starting to like you, you cheeky Portuguese minx

Her: I see the things like this, for example i am too shy its difficult for me to look to a guy straight in his eyes (if i don’t know him) and i don’t like to go some place and everyone looks at me i feel embarrassed i like to go unnoticed but when i find someone with who i feel comfortable well that is a different story lol

Me: I should warn you that although my grandmother says I’m a wonderful boy, I can also be a hungry wolf

Her: For our grandmothers and mothers we are always an sweet angel lolololol but there comes a time when a hungry wolf come and change everything but they don’t need to know that 🙂

Me: Grrrrrrrrr….

Her: Ah ah ah easy tiger ah ah ah

Can’t really ask for better than that. She’s coming virtually to my door, at my convenience, and very much pre-framed for casual sex. So I put on my woolly hat and jumper and take a chance. Internet dating always feels like filling out a ticket for Argos… chances are it’s nothing like it looked in the catalogue. Upon meeting my first feeling is relief – she’s not bad at all. High six. Cute face, lovely manner, slightly overweight but not English overweight. Time for the pub.

This sort of thing

Right from the off I know I have her. Sitting at the bar I begin to rev up the usual DHVs plus I’m riding a wave of outcome independence. Within five minutes she’s staring into my eyes with the “I can’t believe I’m so lucky” gaze. I play with her hair a bit, my latest pre-kiss kino gambit. It’s all childs play, more effort for me to recount here than it was to perform on the date itself. An hour in when I finally kiss her it’s like a dam breaking. She can’t stop nuzzling me, running her hands over my face, scratching my beard….

Next pub is just making out and verbally escalating. Because of her age there’s no way I’ll date her properly but she’s getting prettier and prettier as her femininity peaks. I’m dirty talking then accusing her of being a pervert trying to seduce me, then pull her in and tell her to grab my cock. The usual stuff. Then she tells me she’s on the rag. Hmmmmm. I am not a fan of that. I cool her off and little, do some comfort, and by 11pm send her home. She’s very much uninhibited with her texts the next day so we arrange to meet for sex. Pretty blatant stuff until 2 hours before, I get this:

Hey, I’m sorry I can’t do this. You are amazing, physical you have everything I like in one man but this is not what I’m looking for. I tried to tell to myself I could do it, go there have some sex fun whatever and come back home like nothing happen but I can’t.

A firm no, you’d think? A few reframes later and we meet for a drink. I walk her back to my place for the second drink and close the deal. +1, new flag.

Easing my way into a well-worn rut

November 5, 2012
krauserpua

I’m working these days so I’ve not got much time or inclination for chasing girls. For a couple of years while I was building up the various pillars of my life (health, romance, travel etc) it was all coming at the cost of my Career/Financial pillar slowly eroding. The transition from go-getting professional banker to lazy hammock-sleeping wop is a gradual process so it took a while to realise Expert System Energy Husky was becoming increasingly agitated. I refuse to be one of those pussy-hounds that the Community so lionises, who do the “300 Day Challenge” or other such ego-ridden nonsense that results in your whole identity being wrapped up in chasing women. Men who’ll find themselves hitting their mid-thirties prime with loserness having crept up on them by squandering their 20s on the pussy carousel.

My ego demands entirely different gratification! I still work towards the Cervantes-esque male development model and right now that means topping up my career and savings. There’s something purposeful and satisfying about making my early morning walk to work and then coming home that evening with a pocketful of loot and the serene calm of having participated in a high-level value exchange. Manly pride has to be earned in manly arenas. Women can’t provide it.

So I plan to work until Christmas and then begin 2013 with a long sabbatical. Until then I’m just keeping my existing women ticking over. Here’s a sample of how I do it. I’ve put a focus on their hamsterbation.

Belorussian

Her: How is it today?

Me: relaxed I’m writing a report and I have to go to a client office next to [redacted] for a meeting at 4pm what are you wearing?

Her: Nick)) ahahah)) I’m wearing the leggings in which my ass looks especially appetizing and a long sweater )

Me: Hmmm….. I won’t undress you. I’ll just rip a hole in the leggings big enough to squeeze my dick through and roll up your sweater

Her: such a pervert )

Me: yes you are

Her: he)) Others usually call me an angel 😉

Me: heh

Her: My teachers from Uni are so lazy that I will write the recommendation letters for me instead them Going to do it in English it means the teachers will never know what’s written there I need it for Uni in Uk

Me: how is your escape plan so far? I’m quite impressed that you are doing all of this hard work to try to get back into my bed

Her: ahaha)) I’m not gonna say no and ruin your fantasy )

Me: Maybe I’ll buy a blow-up sex doll and give it the same haircut as you, same clothes… same tarty facial expression then I’ll abuse it and lock it in my cellar

Her: ahaha! Nick! you’re awful ! too much sometimes I gonna to to my dance class

A few days later after a Skype call….

Her: It was nice to see your british face yesterday 😉

Me: yeah, I liked chatting with you. It’s a bit difficult, now I’m starting to like you….

Her: Don’t play games with me, Nick You do It’s warning ))

Me: i’m playing xbox games

Her: YOU ARE THE REASON OF MY BRAIN EXPLOSION

Me: heh!

Her: I’m totally lost somewhere between Russia and UK

Me: look at some photos of me, and you’ll feeling better

Her: ahaha) worse all your photos are full of Slavic beaches =D

Me: beaches or bitches?

Her: ahahaha)) sorry And you also don’t want to date with me such a bastard )) Probably I should delete you on the facebook and sleep well then )))

Me: you’re in Russia, what do you expect me to do? buy an NKVD cap and Nagan revolver, call everyone “comrade”?

Her: hehe))) I don’t expect anything It’d be quite stupid )) You give me a lot of emotions doing nothing ) it’s obviously a talent =D

Me: the English word is “charisma” I just ordered a big fat pizza mmmmmm

Her: lucky you)

and a few days after that….

Me: buy some Union Jack underwear next time you are here

Her: then I’ll be look like a typical UK tourist in your bed ! =D

Me: I like those Union Jack things. Top left (link to girl’s vest with British flag)

Her: no)) I already passed ‘typical tourist step of being in England’ no british flag on my clothes any more )

Me: I insist

Her: If you insist you can buy it for me ) 😛

Me: I might

Her: Really ? )))

Me: I want you to look good when I fuck you, so maybe I’ll buy you things

Her: ahahah))) don’t make excuses never will believe that this buying of Union Jack is because you want to be with me forever and die in one day together =D

Me: that’s scary

Her: for sure )

Me: so now you dream of marrying me I should run away

Her: ahaha) I was sure that you know me better )

Me: I had two girls ask to marry me in October. Don’t want any more in November

Her: I could ask you to marry me for getting UK citizenship only, but you would ask to much money I guess =D no choice only free sex and probable Union Jack underwear as a bonus )

Me: I might start charging you money to have sex with me too

Her: those women who asked you to marry them were crazy or drank or both?

Me: an ex-girlfriend (Russian), who still loves me and wants my children and an English girl who I never dated but she thinks I’m the perfect husband, like Darcy or Heathcliffe

Her: hm…curious ) too much attention for one terrible person 😛 but unfortunately guys who have wanted to marry me I was playing ‘good girl game’ with )

Me: I can imagine nice guys would want to marry you. And also that you control them and make them do lots of things for you they probably all call you an angel too 😀

Her: no the last time I was talking with my boyfriend he called me terrible and soulless bitch =D I don’t think that I’m like this, honestly… I’m close to an angel )

Me: he probably called you that because he now realises he was wrong about you, and can’t accept responsibility for his own inability to understand women

Her: I don’t think so i gave you his expression without context doesn’t matter you’re much worse than I am My personality is still depending on people (especially men) who surround me the influence can change me i’m not fixed yet… but you’re already formed by your experience and it’s an irrepairable damage I should run away from you

Serb B

Her: hey Nick I have one message for you, it`s long, dont be scare 🙂

Me: ok 🙂

Her: I know this is my usually story, but this time I want to be determined. I don’t t think its normal that I miss something it doesn’t exist actually…. People miss things if they care about and like something what they have in their lives, or what they gat use to…I don’t want either of that with something I don’t feel it`s real. You exist here only as a word, sentence and picture.

I’ve said this several times and always break my rule, because it was – “I am about losing control but I think I like it”…. I cant even explain how you don’t think something is weird. I see that I am doing things which I usually do with people who are around me, for example sharing a great news, saying how I feel…and that is not normal.

Having fun is ok, that’s one thing, but living in illusion is wrong..every level or type of illusion. I have to go

Me: There is no illusion. I like you, you like me. Communication is about words, thoughts, and feelings. We share those now. When we video chat on Skype we can also share the face-to-face contact and see each other. These are good feelings. We don’t need a purpose or a mission. Happiness is it’s own goal and when we talk we like the feeling it gives. When you eat delicious food or listen to sweet music do you think “this is an illusion” or “what is the future”? No. You enjoy the feeling it gives you in the moment. Too many people live with their minds in the future or the past. Happiness is when you live in the present and enjoy the moments as they come to you.

And life goes on….

Facebook sex chat for a shy girl: Part One

November 3, 2012
krauserpua

Here’s another facebook sex chat. The girl in question is my new favourite Serb, a 20 year old student and volleyball player that I met in October. We had two long dates together on my last two days in town and the crucial thing is we never kissed. I went for it, obviously, but she was playing a very guarded hand. I know she’s massively into me but something is holding her back.

So it leaves me with an escalation problem. We aren’t far enough along for her to come visit me in London (plus there’s massive friction because of her age and parents), and I’m not going out there to see a girl I haven’t kissed. The solution is to escalate over Facebook with classic Long Game until I can get her masturbating and sending naked photos. Once those are filed away I know it’ll be worth a trip. I do like this girl so I’m not going to blow it off with a “she wouldn’t kiss, what a time waster” type ego trip.

I decided to work a smooth and long escalation by putting alot of time into the atmosphere, pacing and leading her emotions so every little step forwards seems natural,not asking for much input from her. For the first 2/3 of this the video was on too so I could calibrate to her actions as she lay in bed. It was interesting to see her eyes widen, cheeks flush, and body language become more sensual as the chat progressed. Once it was fairly heavy the video went off – possibly a recurring bandwith problem, perhaps she was shy about me seeing her so turned on. So, here it is. I did the usual “lets imagine a perfect holiday” entrypoint and got her to choose the location (Sicily):

Me: So we’ll arrive by boat. A little local ferry, driven by an ancient Sicilian guy with a flat hat and tanned weather-beaten face We’ll have old fashioned suitcases, leather ones with brass buckles and leather straps I’ll be wearing a panama hat and beige suit like this it’s hot 🙂 tell me what you’ll wear

Her: (link)

Me: ok you’ll probably need a hat too so we’ll get a local taxi to drive us up the hillside to our hotel a little old 1970s Fiat with a coughing engine and sticky plastic seats bad air conditioning struggling to get up the hill, and the driver speaking random stuff in Italian saying “mama mia” alot Finally we ‘ll walk through reception. We’ll have to sign in as Mr & Mrs Black, to protect appearances and your honour but not spies or perhaps we are 😉

Her: like a movie

Me: Yes, Mrs Black we’ll take our own suitcases to our rooms, because they are heavy with all our spy stuff and guns I’ll be all hot and sweaty so I’ll immediately jump in the shower

Her: me first

Me: as you unpack the clothes you’ll hear me singing you know my shower song?

Her: be a gentleman you told me

Me: (link to Right Said Fred – I’m Too Sexy) so I’ll walk around the room in my towel, like James Bond, while you undress and get in the shower you’ll enjoy the cold water on your skin, washing off all the travel very refreshing cooling you down so when you put on your evening dress, it feels soft and cold show me what you’ll wear. We’ll be going out for dinner at a restaurant by the sea it’s getting late, the sun is going down and splashing the sky red

Her: (link)

Me: nice you’ll have earings and a sparkling necklace too so we’ll walk out into the cooling evening air, still a bit hot. Me striding ahead, my chin up, looking at the buildings around us. You on my arm, tottering on your high heels to keep up we’ll walk through cobbled streets, row upon row of small white houses, some with washing hanging from the balcony a couple of dogs running around, radio sounds of a football match then we get to a seaside restaurant and sit at a table on the patio, just a few feet from the soft waves splashing against the sea wall the waiter looks like this

he hands us handwritten menus in Italian, we try to order what do you ask for?

Her: pasta

Me: what sauce? it’ll be fish probably, next to the sea chilli fish I’ll get a steak so we sit and eat, washing it down with local wine. We can see the vineyards up on the hill getting a little drunk as the sun goes down and the sky turns a dark blue already there’s music coming from the bars, some of it live and groups of local musicians move from table to table playing requests we finish up and move on to the most fun-sounding bar

Her: (link to Luna Rossa) that’s south italian music i want that song in this night

Me: yeah, I’ve heard that before. I like it they’ll be playing it on little guitars and accordians here I have to put my hand on your shoulder to stop you getting up and dancing before we’ve finished eating there’ll be time for that later

Her: but you can not stop me you are standing up and starting to dance with me

Me: Just this once I watch you moving your weight, gradually getting into the music, your hips beginning to sway, your head moving to shake your hair As you loosen up and feels the beat, I pull you in to me so we can dance together a little I let your hand rest on my shoulder while you pick up your wine glass for a sip my hand on your hip and the other holding my drink we dance a bit more, the music stops but we don’t really notice just enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze from the sea, the slapping sound of the waves, and the distant sounds of music and laughter from the bars it’s a beautiful scene and we are happy to be there so I give you a quick kiss on the forehead, take your hand, and we walk off to a bar

Her: and?

Me: well, we are laughing now. We feel free like this but busier I order a double whiskey for myself. What cocktail do you drink?

Her: find some darker place.. with low lights

Me: I looked. Can you find one?

Her: ill try

Me: ok, how aout this? so, what drink do you have?

Her: i take wine

Me: ok so we take our drinks into the darkest corner we can find

Her: yes

Me: some soft red velvet seats, the material worn thin by use over thirty years the bar is busy, lots of chatting and shouting, everyone having fun it’s all in Italian they don’t notice us, too busy with each other we don’t care, we came here to be alone so we sit and drink, not talking much now, just enjoying sitting with each other I like looking at you, with your hair and makeup done nice, and an elegant evening dress you like absorbing my male energy, leaning against me soon you feel so relaxed your head is resting on my shoulder as my arm is around you we look around us, at the posters on the walls, the local people – fishermen, builders, waiters, wine makers, tailors… the local colour of life everything else seems so far away I’m stroking your hair now, scratching the side of your head softly like you are a cat sipping my whiskey you feel so warm and relaxed, you just want me to kiss you I notice this, I can see your eyes soften and your pupils dilate your lips moisten so I hook my finger softly under your chin, raise it upwards so you are looking up into my eyes, and I give you a kiss not too much, yet. I don’t want you to be greedy then I call to the barman to give us another round of drinks and some peanuts salted you ask for cookies but he doesn’t understand you he brings you an old leather shoe we drink a bit more. we are silent now we don’t need to talk, there’s nothing to say. we just enjoy the atmosphere around us after our drink it’s getting late, time to walk home it’s only a short walk but I see a young boy riding a bicycle I tell him I’ll give him £10 if he lets us borrow his bike. He laughs and grabs the money, a big smile on his face, and I get on the bike While I hold it steady and lean forward, you get on the back and sit in the seat, your feet on the back wheelnuts it shakes side to side a bit as I start to pedal, the cobbles rattling the wheels, you squeal a little worried you’ll fall but as we pick up speed it gets better and your squeals of fear become squeals of delight, like a little girl being given a cookie so I pedal up to the hotel and park the bike outside reception the garden looks exactly like this now

there’s noone around, it’s abotu 11pm and everyone is either in bed, or out by the sea your heart is still beating fast from the bike ride, and hanging onto me you grab onto my arm as we walk up the steps. I stop at the top and turn towards you, see you looking up at me with anticipation somewhere in the tree nearby a bird chirps this time I give you a proper kiss, deep and long, until you feel your heart flutter and you struggle for breath your resist a little at first, pushing against my manliness, to see how I am, to enjoy psychologically feeling my male energy you push me away a little with your hands on my chest, not really trying, just a symbolic effort for a few seconds you keep your lips tightly closed but a few seconds is all you can resist, then you have to surrender to what you’ve been feeling all day and you fall into the kiss, your hands snaking around behind my neck, as I put my hands on you it seems like time stops and then I pull away, leaving you gasping, and lead you into our room I kick off my shoes, as do you open up my suitcase to take out a bottle of good scottish whiskey and pour a glass you are standing by the window looking outside looking at the stars, the twinkling lights of the seaside, and far in the distance some lights on the cruise ships at anchor your dress feels nice on you, you like how you feel and, catching your reflection in the glass you like how you look reflected in the glass, you see me walk over to you you stay looking outside, waiting for me to reach you, anticipating the little spark of electricity through your skin as my hand touchs your shoulder slowly traces a line down your spine and then rests softly on your hip your whole body shudders a little, a warm flow of energy through your stomach and down your arms the you can feel my other hand sweeping your hair away from your neck you are still looking forwardyou really want to turn around, to look at me, to grab me, to kiss me but you also enjoy this feeling of denying yourself holding yourself steady, eyes fixed ahead, a test of your mental discipline and you know I like it too I bend my head towards you. My lips are only millimetres above your skin you can feel my breath against your neck, almost wet little goosebumps rise your chest feels hot and flushed now I slowly blow air onto your skin, moving my mouth up and down from the top of your neck and along your shoulder I can sense you shivering, your knees weak I glance upwards for a moment at the window to see your reflection. I see you biting your lip, a pained expression in your eyes I smile and softly bite your neck, at the same time as I tighten my grip on your hip then I spin you slowly around to face me you are looking up into my eyes now it’s like the rest of the world is a blur… all you can see is my eyes vividly, filling your vision, very sharp and looking deep into your soul for a moment I let this happen then I pull you to me I feel your whole body fall into my shape your chest against mine, your stomach touching mine, even your thighs pushed against my thighs and of course our lips touching now we kiss much harder there’s no restraint now, just the bursting of the dam, the gate flying open it’s passionate and high energy, I take a handful of your hair and pull you tighter into me as my tongue pushes further into you you can feel the sting in your hair but it’s not really hurting just like spice on food, it’s more exciting

(video link goes off)

so now you are grabbing me, your hands running up and down my arms, along my shoulders feeling the shape of my muscles beneath my shirt squeezing, testing the strength wondering how it feels to be held, crushed, in those arms knowing you’ll find out soon I put my hands under your ass and lift you up, you jump onto me, legs wrapped around while I stand you’re hanging onto me tight, slightly above me know, bending your head down to kiss me and grab my head squeezing your legs together to avoid falling I turn around and throw you back onto the bed you land with a big thump and let out an excited squeal I undo my shirt now you push yourself back against the headboard, reaching behind you to stack up the pillows behind your head, not taking your eyes off me watching as I unbutton my shirt and throw it over a chair I pull off my trousers too so just my boxer shorts I’m wearing my sexiest shorts you’ve already pulled your dress off, so I can see you lying there in just your underwear what colour is it?

Her: black

Me: nice, I like black. it matches your hair well so you are looking up at me, taking in the shape of my wide shoulders the determined thoughtful look on my face and the intense interest I’m looking at you you know I desire you you like to be desired by me it makes you feel like a woman I’m looking at you on my bed, lying there, semi-naked your chest rising and falling heavily with your breathing a soft red flush on your cheeks and chest smooth female curves of your shoulders, breasts, hips and calves I look at you waiting for me and know I want to take you so I put my knee onto the bed and lean over, my face just a few cm above yours then I climb over, get into bed, and fall asleep Part 2 will have to wait for another time how was my story?

Her: it was like real like it’s happening now to me

Me: you have good imagination, I like that

Her: always

Me: Something strange happened. As I was writing the story, you seemed to get prettier

Her: really?

Me: I think it was your facial expression you began to look softer, happier, a very natural smile and your body language became looser it’s attractive you are cutest when you are less guarded like now

Her: i know

Me: I like to see you like this. I knew it was there, but would take some time to express itself

Her: when i show this part of me it doesn’t finish very well for me do you know what i want to say?

Me: I think so it’s natural I think as a girl you want to find a good guy who you respect, trust, and are attracted to you want to fall into his world, experience how he lives, how he sees the world give yourself to him, like a present of love to reward him for how he makes you feel but to do that, you must surrender some of your will, some of your independence and it makes you vulnerable is that what you mean?

Her: something like that thay use it against me so it’s better to pretend that i’m cold one

Me: in the beginning, perhaps to reject all the men you don’t want

Her: i don’t know where am i wrong

Me: you’re not wrong, you are just inexperienced

…… I wrap up this part with ten minutes talking about comfort stuff and further qualification. Part two soon……

We are now operating under my rules

November 1, 2012
krauserpua

One of the higher-level skills in pickup and any ensuing relationship is frame control. For the most part men don’t fully sense the dynamics at play and thus don’t know there’s a tug of war going on…. this leads to losing the battle by not turning up for the fight. Writ large in society the Feminine Imperative has snatched the frame such that most men so thoroughly identify with femcentric values that their loss of frame permuates every fibre of their being from career choice, capital accumulation to relationship conduct.

Are you studying hard at university so you can get a well-paid job in order to accumulate the wealth to buy a nice house and a fast car, so that the women will come? You’ve lost the frame.
Are you feeling guilty because you are attracted to twenty-year old women for casual sex rather than 30+ women for exclusive monogamous LTRs leading to marriage? You’ve lost the frame.

“In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women.” Even Scarface lost the frame. You do not exist to serve female goals. If you can’t see this, head on over to Rollo for a crash course. For now, I’ll consider frame control purely on the interpersonal level in dating using some recent examples:

provider

Belorussian

The lay report here goes into detail about the frame war we had before she finally broke. A few other anecdotes from once we were regularly fucking….

Bhodi comes into my room one evening to ask me something. The scene that confronts him is Belorussian standing against my window with a glass of wine against her chest and a look of smouldering sexual desire and frustration. I’m on the bed with a grin on my face and an Xbox controller in my hand, playing Dark Souls. Belorussian is confused and horny, unable to figure out why I’m not jumping her.
In my lounge I’m lazily draped over a sofa, eating some pate on bread. Belorussian is flitting around the room, asking Steve about his website (god help her, she doesn’t know how long he can talk about his google adwords, site layout, click throughs and so on!) and seeing what Robusto is cooking. The whole time I’m just eating my pate. Finally I call her over and she drapes herself around me.

This girl has her playbook and its utterly ineffectual. The strategies she uses on beta males come up short on a man who doesn’t put her on a pedestal, doesn’t fear losing her, and most importantly is wise to her game. Frustration aside she likes this. She wants to lose the frame so she can bask in the glory of submission. In conversation she has explicitly said this is why she likes me more than every other guy she ever met. I’m the one she can’t control so she was drawn in, tried to maintain distance as she continued to fight for the frame, and then finally surrendered and came chasing my cock.

I usually do a split down the centre

Serb

This girl is twenty years old, tall and leggy, with a beautiful face. I rate her as a high 8 on account that she still carries some puppy fat but she’ll immediately become a 9 when that’s boiled off. All through my first date with her she was holding herself back, letting silences develop, walking off slightly to see if I’d follow. It continued on the second date when we had a five hour walk around Belgrade. Some examples:

Crossing the road ahead of me. My response was to lightly pull her back and playfully admonish “I think you forget who is the man” or “You may be wearing trousers but you don’t wear the trousers”. She’d smile and obey.
As we approached a tram stop she stopped several yards before it and perched up against the railing. I continued walking to the stop and perched up at a much more suitable position. She remained where she was for a few minutes then came over and joined me
Walking along the riverside she frequently walked ahead of me (I’d stop to feign interest in something till she came back or waited for me), wandered off to one side to look at something (I’d keep to my line) and in one case when we passed a child’s play area I sat on a swing and she took a while coming to join me (I told her to sit down then I pushed her on the swing till she was whooping and laughing.

This girl has already fashioned a playbook of ploys that get men dancing to her tune. I could feel the pressure of discomfort. She was creating a gap that I was supposed to fall into. See how she describes it later on Skype as I ask her what she likes in a man’s eyes:

Her: talk to mee I LIKE TO LISTEN YOU

Me: REALLY?

Her: yeah

Me: It must be my accent. I sound like Prince Harry or Hugh Grant or the Queen

Her: green shining eyes or how you call it

Me: describe it please

Her: ask me?

Me: don’t worry if your language sounds awkward. I’ll try to understand the underlying meaning

Her: I am not used to it When man is watching me I decide what next is going to happened

Me: What you will do next, or what he will do next?

Her: he because I have power over him or how you say it but that is not happening with you you’re the lead role and that is making me crazy

Me: I am impressed that you can explicitly acknowledge this about yourself please continue your explanation

Her: And you don’t give up why are you doing it?

Me: give up what?

Her: let me do things with my pritty eyes and you pretend to be like every other man

Me: so you want me to change myself, and become one of those men you can easily control?

Her: I won’t do that always! promise! just kidding be yourself But I feel with you as you love to have me under control in some way and i am not used to it

Me: how does it make you feel, apart from “going crazy”?

Her: Like you are taking away my freedom (not so serious ), no one has such an influence on me this is not well written don’t get me wrong 🙂

Me: I think I understand so you feel different with me than the other guys you know, and you feel more in my power, and it creates unexpected feelings inside you? take your time, it’s fine 😉

Her: you are the first who did not give up in front of me 😀 I mean, in the end I’m the leader always.. with you is a little more difficult.. no, it’s impossible but that is not bad you’re becoming moore and more interesting to me it’s because i can’t turn you in my way

Me: You like it that you can’t control me. You like pushing against my character, to feel it’s strength. It frustrates you, but it gives you a feeling of existential safety

Her: well , I don’t like it very much it’s a little disappointment to me

Me: why a disappointment?

Her: I can’t control you like I used to do [wth other men]

Me: So when did you realise I was different? Obviously in the beginning you were overwhelmed by my good looks and sharp fashion…

Her: When you told me that I’m not fashion designer 😀 [My standard tease early in a set, when I try to guess her job / study I look her up and down and say “Not fashion, obviously”] LOOK AT HIM.. HE KNOWS in some other case I could change somebody’s mind in 5 minutes

Me: Sometimes I watch boys when they meet women, and they just kiss her ass it seems so…… unmanly I feel sorry for the girl I think “she wants a man, not a scared little boy who falls over easily”

Her: you think it about me or generaly?

Me: All girls want approximately the same things, but with some variation for taste and style I think that because you needed to be quite independent from a young age, and because you are tall, you find it quite easy to control men lower the camera so I can see your breasts better lower

Her: because I ‘m tall.. say please

Me: lower camera first

Her: that’s it! that is what I’m talknig about

Me: I know

You’ll see the important of the tease in the early stages of a daygame set. Usually it’s not enought to just show confidence and interest in a girl upon opening, you have to give her a little glimpse of the boundaries you set and your internal strength. Many many times girls have told me they really perked up the first time I teased them. Like a sleeping dog’s ears rising to a distant noise, girls suddenly get the “woah!… this guy is different” response.

English

Here’s a girl I haven’t managed to fuck yet. As with the other two girls she’s twenty, tall, and surrounded by oribiters. A solid 8 who could be a 9 if she does everything right. She’s just come out of a nine month relationship with a guy she moved in with. He bought her the house and doted on her until finally his beta weakness repelled her. I got a play-by-play from beginning to end as it happened so I know this girl really wanted things to work and yet now consider her feelings for him:

Her: [ex-BF] has started calling my ex-stepdad to say how depressed he is without me and lonely. Ew.

Me: What a pussy

Her: I know I am so turned off its gross. I have nightmares sometimes that I’m still with him. Makes my stomach turn

Me: Haha.. Are they like Prometheus where you are carrying a slimy alien baby?

Her: Hahahahaha no I’m just like “I don’t understand why I’m still here”

Me: I wonder if an alien baby is more gross than a wuss’s baby

Her: No. Such a vagine-ugh

Me: Heh. Must be terrifying to think you nearly had beta seed in you. Kinda like how I feel about dodging a false rape claim

Her: Hahahahaahahahaha

Earlier…

Me: I’m on a steak and whiskey diet. I think my balls are getting bigger

Her: Ha that’s so hot

These three girls are interesting because they are very well practiced at controlling men and can explicitly articulate what they feel and why they do it.