Female Infidelity Red Flags

The corn&porn arm of the MSM is catching up with CH teachings. A woman has written an article about female infidelity warning signs, (supposedly culled from women who have cheated on their partners), and the information sounds suspiciously similar to earlier Chateau Heartiste red flags for women who are high infidelity risks. For instance:

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 1: She accuses her man of cheating. This common sign is an attempt to divert the guilt away from herself, and to project her dishonest behavior onto her partner.

Ministry of PoonandGrabass CH:

She asks you how many women you’ve slept with or accuses you of being a player. One word: projection.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 2: She starts dolling herself up. If a woman suddenly starts taking hours to get ready for places like the gym or the grocery store, then there may be someone she’s trying to impress.

CH:

She undertakes beautification projects. [A] girl who suddenly begins an exercise program or wearing carefully applied makeup or buying new sexy cocktail dresses is prepping herself for a return to the market.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 3: She tells her husband she needs space.

CH:

Chances of re-notch success are much lower once she has verbalized her need for space, but with proper post-relationship game you can improve your odds dramatically.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 4: She drops hints that she’s not happy.

CH:

A woman is honed like a machine to be a first responder to relationship crisis. She uses her intuition to pick out subtle nicks in the relationship armor that could grow to chasms if left untended. [...] Women therefore have evolved an exquisite sense for sniffing out warning signs that a man is losing interest, or that his love, and hence his commitment, is cooling. Women therefore have evolved an exquisite sense for sniffing out warning signs that a man is losing interest, or that his love, and hence his commitment, is cooling.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 5: She has a new BFF her partner has never met. For starters, this new “friend” may not even be a girl at all. The friend could also be a single gal pal looking for a wing woman… and sometimes a woman is all too eager to go along for the ride.

CH:

She has a lot of slutty friends. Ye shall know her by her support group.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 6: She changes her plans… at midnight. If she consistently ends up staying out all night, then it’s time to question her loyalty.

CH:

This red flag is so obvious — hey, my girlfriend/wife is out again at midnight without me! — that I don’t need to dig through the CH archives to find a record of this blog stating the same thing.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 7: Someone else thinks she’s cheating. “I knew someone who had firsthand knowledge my girlfriend was cheating,” Mark says. “But I believed her when she said it was a lie, because nobody wants to believe the worst, no matter how obvious it may be.”

CH:

This is a milder version of catching her in flagrante delicto, *when it’s from a third party*. But there’s the rub. Many of your girlfriend’s or wife’s friends will not be your friends. If you hear something that suggests your wife’s infidelity from an oblivious sidewalk grocer, you should take the accusation seriously. If you hear it from her BFF who secretly hates you (or loves you), default to skepticism.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 8: She has a sudden increased interest in her partner’s whereabouts. A woman carrying on an affair needs to cover her bases. If she starts wanting to know her man’s plans for the day, especially when she’s supposedly at work or otherwise busy, then she could be making plans of her own.

CH:

This is pretty good advice for an MSM fem entity, but its accuracy as a warning sign depends a great deal on who’s downlow-ing whom. A wife will show increased interest in her spouse’s whereabouts if she suspects *him* of cheating, too. So if you are a faithful dude, and your wife is suddenly asking a lot of questions about your schedule while sounding like she’s pretending to ask in a spontaneous manner, as if it “just popped into her head”, then you may have something to worry about.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 9: She gives excuses to not have sex.

CH:

[W]e now know the number one dead giveaway that your wife or girlfriend is about to cheat on you:

Is she withdrawing sex during days 10-16 of her monthly cycle? Then you, my friend, are about to be betrayed.

If you hear from your woman “I have a headache” any time during her peak fertility, she has either cheated on you, is thinking about cheating on you, or is getting sufficiently turned off by your burgeoning betaness that cheating will soon become an option in the calculation of her moral universe.

MSM fem entity:

Sign No. 10: She’s checked out. If another man is meeting a woman’s emotional needs, then she will lose her enthusiasm in her current relationship, even when it comes to things like arguing.

CH:

[M]en are capable of fucking more than one woman concurrently without losing that loving feeling for any one of them. Women, in contrast, tend to have to fall out of love with their man before they can comfortably move on to fucking another man.

So, did this MSM fem entity plagiarize CH, or is it just a coincidence that there happens to exist in the world a woman who can speak as truthfully as the lordship of Chateau Heartiste?

Ps You have to love the spate of articles in recent years about cheating women. Is this a subject that would have been broached so explicitly in any putatively mainstream outlet fifty years ago? Either the culture has become less queasy about parading in print the true nature of women, or more women are cheating and the need to discuss the topic has reached critical mass, or both. Whatever the reason for the trend, it doesn’t do much for American women’s marriageability.

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Science Proves Game Works

Or that it can work.

Anyways, how did I miss this? Scientists actually reviewed Mystery’s accelerated seduction blueprint, and what they discovered will surely wither further the already diminutive hearts of manboobs, freaks, monsters, feminists, losers, dweebs, omegas, white knights, traditionalists and slithery “academics” pretending to be feminists in order to score hipster chick poon: The concepts underlying game strategies are factually grounded, and game works!

The dating mind: Evolutionary psychology and the emerging science of human courtship

ABSTRACT

In the New York Times bestselling book The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists (2006), the world was granted its first exclusive introduction to the steadily growing dating coach and pick-up artist community. Many of its most prominent authorities claim to use insights and information gleaned both through first-hand experience as well as empirical research in evolutionary psychology. One of the industry’s most well-respected authorities, the illusionist Erik von Markovik, promotes a three-phase model of human courtship: Attraction, building mutual Comfort and Trust, and Seduction. The following review argues that many of these claims are in fact grounded in solid empirical findings from social, physiological and evolutionary psychology. Two texts which represent much of this literature are critiqued and their implications discussed.

Jesus H. Christmas, this entire paper reads like it was ripped straight from Chateau Heartiste archives. And what was that muffled sound in the distance? Ah yes, the pffft of aneurysms popping in the heads of game denialists posting hater comments from under their beds.

This review deserves a detailed look, so let’s begin.

For the present analysis, we examined several popular works from the [dating coach and pick-up artist] Community. The Community consists broadly of heterosexual men who market various tactics, techniques, and methods to meet, date, and ultimately seduce women. Both published books and online forums offer opportunities to garner and share this information with a wide audience of people interested in improving their dating and romantic success.

Two main texts were chosen for this analysis. The first text, entitled The Mystery Method: How to Get Beautiful Women into Bed (Markovik, 2007), is widely regarded as one of the most important works in the Community. The second text, written by Markovik’s protégé and New York Times columnist Neil Strauss, also known on online forums as Style, is entitled Rules of the Game (Strauss, 2009). The two texts were selected mainly for the authors’ prominence and popularity in the Community.

I don’t have a problem with the two texts the review authors chose to analyze. [Disclosure: I never read Rules of the Game, so my opinion is based on what others have told me about it.] You can argue for this or that seduction manual or PUA forum compilation, but if you had to pick only two sources, these two would qualify as legitimate encapsulations of the major pick-up strategies.

The general starting point for much of the Community’s literature, whether explicitly stated or not, often begins with Trivers’ (1972) theory of parental investment.

According to Trivers’ (1972), the sex with higher parental investment (i.e., time and energy spent in gestation and rearing offspring) will be choosier with respect to mate selection. As a consequence, women very rarely accept propositions for casual sex with strangers (Voracek, Hofhansl and Fisher, 2005), typically imposing a much more careful and rigorous screening process before consenting to sexual activity (Grammer, 1989; Pawlowski and Dunbar, 1999; Pawlowski and Dunbar, 2001). On the other hand, human males as the biologically less investing sex, often have little to lose by mating with as many females as possible (Buss and Schmitt, 1993). Indeed, Schmitt et al. (2001) have shown that men desire more lifetime sex partners, seek sexual intercourse sooner, and are frequently more motivated to seek casual sex than are women.

In the absence of a clear understanding of the biological bases of such differences, the courtship process and ensuing relationship dynamics can often appear confusing, frustrating and even debilitating. Such conflicts of interest in men and women’s sexual strategies (Buss and Schmitt, 1993), often coined “the war of the sexes”, can be a significant cause of conflict and ultimately failure to find and maintain a lasting long-term relationship. However, as we will argue, this conflict is not inevitable. The knowledge of our evolved sexual strategies gives us significant capability to improve interactions between the sexes by choosing appropriate actions and deactivating others – ultimately reducing conflict between men and women. In this respect, we argue that when properly and ethically understood, the dating and seduction industry, despite its provocative label and origins outside of academia, is founded on solid empirical research as well as first-hand courtship and relationship experience. Ultimately, it is our suggestion that an informed appraisal of this information will ultimately help to lessen conflict and improve dating and relationships between men and women.

Knowledge of female sexual nature and game can improve relationships between men and women? Now a whoosh is heard. The game haters just spontaneously combusted.

Direct conversational openers typically begin with a very bold and straightforward proclamation, directly to one’s prospective romantic interest. For instance, a typical example of this type of opener might be: Hi, I saw you standing there, thought you looked attractive, and wanted to say hello. While apparently awkward or unimpressive to the inexperienced, many Community enthusiasts will swear by the ability of this approach to generate instant attraction in a prospective romantic interest. And indeed, there may in fact be psychological research to legitimate this claim. For instance, research has shown that expressions of social dominance (Sadalla et al. 1987), social risk-taking (Wilke, Hutchinson, Todd, and Kruger, 2006), and courageousness (Farthing, 2005; Kelly and Dunbar, 2001) are often attractive to women (as such an approach would clearly seem to demonstrate).

A direct opener will signal social dominance, self confidence, and high status by its mere use. The brazen opener is itself the alpha male signaler. My suggestion when using direct openers is to be sure your body language is sufficiently alpha to be congruent with the words you are saying to the girl. Otherwise, you will quickly get blown out, because incongruence during the opener is usually the death knell for any seduction attempt.

The second type of conversation starter, referred to as an indirect conversational opener, often begins with an off-handed opinion or question, at first merely designed to capture attention. For example, indirect openers often include apparently random queries such as, Excuse me- a friend and I were debating something. Could I have a female opinion on how a man should treat a lady on a first date? (Markovik, 2007; Strauss, 2009). In stark contrast to a direct opener, the specific content of an indirect opener is often irrelevant; the more important objective is often to smoothly get a conversation started.

The big advantage of indirect openers is that you can generally hit on hotter women than you can with direct openers, because the latter tends to elevate the risk of getting insta-rejected if the girl happens to dislike your look, style, walk or wiry nose hairs, all of which are traits you display before you’ve even opened your mouth. Plus, hotter girls expect to get hit on more, so indirect is better for catching them off-guard, and for settling your nerves. (This rule of thumb breaks down when you get to the 9s and 10s of womanhood, who are so intimidatingly hot to most men that they paradoxically get hit on less frequently than their looks would suggest they do.)

[T]he conversational content at this point generally moves into interesting personality conveying material, such as humor, an exciting personal anecdote, a fun game, or even a simple piece of stage magic, intended to solicit attraction from a prospective romantic interest (Markovik, 2007; Strauss, 2009). Markovik (2007) describes the advertisement of such qualities as “Demonstrations of Higher Value” (DHVs), which it is claimed, cause an increase in mate value and create attraction, thus providing the person access to more desirable mates. And indeed, psychological research has shown that many of these qualities, when well-presented, can often be quite attractive to the opposite sex.

For example, in a recent sample of UK personal advertisements, women rated charming social skills, wittiness, and a good sense of humor as among the most desirable traits in a prospective date (Pawlowski and Dunbar, 1999; Pawlowski and Dunbar, 2001), which would seem to reinforce the claims made by the community (Markovik, 2007; Strauss, 2009).

“Looks are everything.” – some loser justifying his inaction.

The Community further advocates a peculiar strategy known as “pre-selection” which is claimed to be often useful in crowded social gatherings (Markovik, 2007). Pre- selection is a strategy whereby a man in a public gathering will establish an innocent acquaintanceship with an attractive woman, gaining her trust, comfort, and friendship, only to later use her presence by his side to attract other surrounding women that are actually the intended object of his desire (Markovik, 2007). The phenomenon where females will copy or imitate the preferences of other females for a particular male mate has been documented in a wide variety of species, and is commonly referred to by evolutionary biologists as mate choice copying (Bennett, Lim and Gilbert, 2008; Dugatkin, 1992; Freed-Brown and White, 2009). Moreover, there is now increasing evidence to suggest that such strategies, whether intentionally practiced or consistently understood by those using them, are also found in humans (Eva and Wood, 2006; Hill and Buss, 2008; Place, Todd, Penke and Asendorpf, 2010).

A hot female friend who is willing to be your pivot is worth her weight in fluffy stuffed animals.

The second reputed phase of human courtship, building mutual Comfort and Trust, further seems to have a significant degree of support by various psychological research studies. Firstly, once Attraction has been established, community literature advocates the importance of taking the time to build rapport, comfort and trust before proceeding with seduction (Markovik, 2007; Strauss, 2009). Indeed, psychological research has shown that many particular moral virtues are not only sexually attractive, but also relationship-stabilizing (see Miller 2007, for a review).

The popular game forums focus more on attraction than on comfort building, and the reason is likely because most men are naturally worse at the former. But in my experience, I see a lot of men dropping the ball during the comfort stage. I can’t count how many times I’ve witnessed some girl smiling broadly when she first meets a guy, and then watch as her smile fades to a grimace the more he talks. (I like to jump in at these opportune moments, because girls are… how shall I say?… more pliable to my charms when left in such a dispiriting state by some other inept man. You could call this strategy, Attraction by Comparison. It’s a productive strategy because most men are inept with women.)

Trust and comfort is often further established through the use of kinesthetic touch, or what the Community often refers to simply as “kino” (Markovik, 2007; Strauss, 2009). For instance, from a study of courtship behavior in singles’ bars, Moore (1985) found that incidental touching, prolonged eye contact, swaying the upper body towards a prospective romantic interest while talking, and a number of other tactical devices designed to attract attention were frequently implemented.

If you showed me twenty men hitting on twenty women, and all I could see was how many times the men touched the women, knowing nothing else about their interactions I could predict with stunning accuracy which of those men would be getting the lay.

The final reputed phase of human courtship, Seduction, begins once mutual Attraction and Comfort and Trust have been established between two individuals. For instance, women typically require more time and intimacy to develop the same amount of passion as men (Baumeister and Bratslavsky, 1999). Consistent with psychological research, the Community often advocates what is known at the “seven-hour rule”; the idea being that a woman typically needs a minimum of seven cumulative hours of rapport- building in order to develop a strong emotional and intellectual connection (including shared interests, shared values, and a deep inter-subjective understanding) before consenting to sexual activity (Markovik, 2007; Strauss, 2009). In order to accomplish this objective, the community encourages a process of mutual self-disclosure, whereby each gets to know the other person on a very deep and intimate level (Markovik, 2007; Strauss, 2009), reinforcing psychological research on the development of relationships (Collins and Miller, 1994) and compassionate love (Hatfield and Rapson, 1993).

Alpha males are not stone walls. They understand that there will be a give and take in any seduction. They just know that it’s better to give a little less than they take.

In conclusion, it would seem clear that there is in fact a substantive degree of psychological research to support many claims made by the Community. The three reputed phases of courtship, Attraction, building mutual Comfort and Trust, and Seduction, are supported by a significant and steadily growing literature based in physiological, social and evolutionary psychology research. [...]

In light of these findings, it is equally important to note that many of the strategies advocated by the community are not currently supported by peer-reviewed literature. For example, one particular strategy known as “peacocking,” (in dubious reference to Zahavi’s (1975) handicap principle) involves wearing very ostentatious clothing specifically designed to exploit evolved cues for what women find attractive (Markovik, 2007). Although research has shown that women generally find social status attractive in men (Buss, 1989; Pawlowski and Dunbar, 2001), thus far there is no direct evidence in support of this particular behavior. A similar strategy, known as “negging”, has been claimed to increase a male’s attractiveness by demonstrating he has high standards (Markovik, 2007). For example, a male might exclaim, Wow, those are great fingernails! Are they real? Oh, no? Well, they still look nice. Consistent with this argument, Eastwick, Finkel, Mochon, and Ariely (2007) have shown that men who appear to have high standards are considered more attractive than males who do not; nevertheless, there is currently no direct evidence that “negging” is universally effective. An important area for future research would be to more closely analyze a broader spectrum of community literature and determine the scientific veracity of unsubstantiated claims.

Hopefully, academic feminists and sniveling manboobs will retreat to their cuntcaves under my assault of brutal mockery and real sociologists can in future conduct studies examining the effectiveness of other, specific game and seduction tactics, such as the aforementioned negs, and even pick-up and relationship techniques CH has introduced and described here, including “agree and amplify” and “instilling dread“.

Maybe, just maybe, they will even have the courage one day to study the peculiar allure assorted assholes, douchebags, psychopaths and jerks exert on attractive women.

[T]here may be important unrecognized ethical implications from using portions of this material. For instance, it has been argued that the initiation of touch or “kino” throughout the courtship process and alleged prioritization of physical over verbal consent may at times problematize interpretations of consent (Denes, 2011). To this end, we do contend that such material has the potential for abuse and urge caution with the use of the Community’s material, especially in the context of short-term relationships where sexual activity may be the sole objective. On the other hand, within the context of helping people to initiate long-term, stable relationships, we argue that informed male behaviors are not so unlike women attempting to manipulate perceived attractiveness through the use of perfume, cosmetics, clothing, liposuction and cosmetic surgery, and thus disrupt normal mate choice by men (Roberts, Miner and Shackelford, 2010). Therefore, if such practices allow men to approach, attract, and connect with women in similar fashion, we wholeheartedly endorse the ethical practice of such materials for establishing meaningful long-term relationships.

I believe it is this blog, this seducer’s stronghold, this digital palace guarding a horde of priceless knowledge that pierces the puzzle of pussy, which was at the forefront of elucidating for the skeptical masses how game could be useful for long-term relationships and marriage. Chateau Heartiste makes it impossible for knee-jerk haters and ignoramuses to caricature the science and art of streamlined seduction and learned charisma as the domain of frat boys spitting corny lines, or oily club hounds sidling up to skanks for a shot at the bathroom BJ.

Not that there’s anything wrong with bathroom BJs, but the caricature has been demolished, and now the haters must face the gut-punch reality that game works, and works well for men from all socioeconomic backgrounds and all romantic circumstance.

One day, perhaps sooner than the haters would dare contemplate in their most fevered nightmares, this formula:

will come to be seen as revolutionary to the human sciences as E=MC² was to the physical sciences.

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Girls Asking Generalissimo Heartiste To Rate Their Looks

This commune of cosseted corporeal delights gets its fair share of female readers emailing the proprietors with requests (nay, more like demands) to rank them on a 1 to 10 beauty scale. Photos are included, along with promises that all info will be kept private (naturally). The proprietors abide the second request, but rarely the first, because it is quite obvious that what these women seek they already know, and are simply fishing for a little of the ol’ ultrastroking of their egos by the lead pack animal with fur of woven gold and claws stained with mortal triumph.

A recent example of the genre appeared in the Inbox of Consummation, and, as is usual in these cases, the woman in the photo is quite fetching, a solid 8. She too, asked for privacy, so I will not reveal any details here, except to say she is younger than lawyercunt age and was eager to leverage her looks for a family and babies before it was too late, evidencing a feeling of deadly urgency not often observed in women so young which she acquired, so she says, through reading this blog. She valued the opinion of the Rectory’s Grandmaster, and wished to know if a “lesser alpha” was within her purview.

Yes, you slinky pantherette, you can get a lesser alpha if you put your heart to it.

The overwhelming majority of these “rank me” emails feature women sitting comfortably above the 7 and above looks rating. I can only remember two who were otherwise; one girl was a 6 and the other was frolicking dangerously close to the soul-burning fires of a 4 or 5 rating. A lopsided number of them are 8s and higher.

Why would only good-looking women email for reassurances of their good looks? If women were really oblivious to their sexual market values, you’d expect to see a more even distribution from women at all points of the looks scale searching for unbiased third party opinions.

The premise is, of course, all wrong. Women are VERY AWARE of their SMVs, both absolute and relative, and that is why ugly women rarely ask for opinions on their looks: even the nicest niceboi would be hard-pressed to sufficiently conceal his discomfort at having to gently fib to a mastodon that she really looks like a Venus. And women are quite skilled at picking up subtexts and subcommunications and subsubmeanings within submeanings telegraphed through body language and quivering supplicating voice.

The same reason fugs avoid tempting the sizzling light of judgment is the reason hot babes welcome it: the latter love reminding themselves how hot they are by provoking reactions from men (betas) eager to feed their womanly need. Unless you are running an online presence and don’t go out of your way to meet such women IRL, you’d best follow the hallowed prescription to avoid giving attractive women the ego boosts they crave if you don’t want to be chucked into the boring manboob discount bin.

The other interesting angle to all this is the question of why, when the world is full of men with nearly universal tastes in women, do some hot women feel compelled to coax unnecessary flattery from an ASCII ghost? The answer to that, I leave as an exercise for the reader.

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Latest Baumeister Paper Supports CH Concept Of The Sexual Market

Baumeister, the primary coauthor behind the seminal 2004 paper titled “Sexual Economics: Sex as Female Resource for Social Exchange in Heterosexual Interactions”, has released online the latest addition to that work, titled “Sexual Economics, Culture, Men, and Modern Sexual Trends“, another steely-eyed examination of the sexes that pretty much validates the core Chateau Heartiste concept of the existence of a merciless sexual market, and its primacy among all markets.

I was planning to write a sole synopsis and commentary on the recent study, but others, like Mangan (back from hiatus), have done a good job covering the essential hypotheses and conclusions in the paper, so instead I’ll post in addition, in the near future, an email from a reader who forwarded to CH his astute objections and comments to the original Baumeister paper in an email sent to the author. (I don’t know if Baumeister replied.)

(Quick aside: Mangan asks a related question regarding a prominent claim in the Baumeister paper that men supported the entrance of women into the workforce to increase men’s sexual access: “Is there a direct relationship between looser morals and more women in public life?” I would bet that there is, and that a trend toward higher female participation in the workforce, and particularly in government and similar social gatekeeper occupations, is one of the crucial indicators that a nation is beginning the downward spiral into stasis and eventual decline.)

Continuing, some choice quotes (with editor commentary) pulled from the latest Baumeister/Vohs (a woman!) paper to give you a flavor for its contents.

In simple terms, we proposed that in sex, women are the suppliers and men constitute the demand (Baumeister and Vohs 2004). Hence the anti-democratic, seemingly paradoxical sex ratio findings that Regnerus describes. When women are in the minority, the sexual marketplace conforms to their preferences: committed relationships, widespread virginity, faithful partners, and early marriage. For example, American colleges in the 1950s conformed to that pattern. In our analysis, women benefit in such circumstances because the demand for their sexuality exceeds the supply. In contrast, when women are the majority, such as on today’s campuses as well as in some ethnic minority communities, things shift toward what men prefer: Plenty of sex without commitment, delayed marriage, extradyadic copulations, and the like. [ed: yep, life has been good for those of us who know the score.] [...]

Sexual marketplaces take the shape they do because nature has biologically built a disadvantage into men: a huge desire for sex that makes men dependent on women. Men’s greater desire puts them at a disadvantage, just as when two parties are negotiating a possible sale or deal, the one who is more eager to make the deal is in a weaker position than the one who is willing to walk away without the deal. [ed: this is why practiced male aloofness is attractive to women -- it signals that the man is holding a stronger market position, and that his goods are therefore valuable.] Women certainly desire sex too — but as long as most women desire it less than most men, women have a collective advantage, and social roles and interactions will follow scripts that give women greater power than men (Baumeister et al. 2001). [ed: culture emerges from sexually differentiated genetic roots.] We have even concluded that the cultural suppression of female sexuality throughout much of history and across many different cultures has largely had its roots in the quest for marketplace advantage (see Baumeister and Twenge 2002). Women have often sustained their advantage over men by putting pressure on each other to restrict the supply of sex available to men. As with any monopoly or cartel, restricting the supply leads to a higher price. [...]

Recent work has found that across a large sample of countries today, the economic and political liberation of women is positively correlated with greater availability of sex (Baumeister and Mendoza 2011). Thus, men’s access to sex has turned out to be maximized not by keeping women in an economically disadvantaged and dependent condition, but instead by letting them have abundant access and opportunity. [ed: was the sexual and feminist revolution fomented by undersexed beta males? a case can be made.] In an important sense, the sexual revolution of the 1970s was itself a market correction. Once women had been granted wide opportunities for education and wealth, they no longer had to hold sex hostage (Baumeister and Twenge 2002). [ed: that is, they no longer had to suffer the indignity of beta provider courtship. now that they had the resources, it was open season on alpha male cock hopping. the sexual revolution appears to have backfired on beta males expecting a bigger slice of the snatch pie.]

What does all this mean for men? The social trends suggest the continuing influence of a stable fact, namely the strong desire of young men for sexual activity. As the environment has shifted, men have simply adjusted their behavior to find the best means to achieve this same goal. Back in 1960, it was difficult to get sex without getting married or at least engaged, and so men married early. To be sure, this required more than being willing to bend the knee, declare love, and offer a ring. To qualify as marriage material, a man had to have a job or at least a strong prospect of one (such as based on an imminent college degree). The man’s overarching goal of getting sex thus motivated him to become a respectable stakeholder contributing to society.

The fact that men became useful members of society as a result of their efforts to obtain sex is not trivial, and it may contain important clues as to the basic relationship between men and culture (see Baumeister 2010). Although this may be considered an unflattering characterization, and it cannot at present be considered a proven fact, we have found no evidence to contradict the basic general principle that men will do whatever is required in order to obtain sex, and perhaps not a great deal more. [ed: that last clause is critical. men will always take the path of least resistance to sex. it is up to women to make that path more difficult if they want to extract more concessions from men.] (One of us characterized this in a previous work as, “If women would stop sleeping with jerks, men would stop being jerks.”) If in order to obtain sex men must become pillars of the community, or lie, or amass riches by fair means or foul, or be romantic or funny, then many men will do precisely that. This puts the current sexual free-for-all on today’s college campuses in a somewhat less appealing light than it may at first seem. [ed: what's interesting and unspoken here is that the sexual free-for-all is chugging along nicely well beyond and outside of the college years, with the difference being that, in their 20s and 30s, a select number of fewer men (let's call them... alpha males) are enjoying the ample premarital rewards of sexually available women.] Giving young men easy access to abundant sexual satisfaction deprives society of one of its ways to motivate them to contribute valuable achievements to the culture. [ed: damn, i'm torn. do i want a thriving society or easier access to sex? yeeeeah... i'll take the latter and leave the self-sacrifice required of the former for the anti-poolside chumps.]

The changes in gender politics since 1960 can be seen as involving a giant trade, in which both genders yielded something of lesser importance to them in order to get something they wanted more (Baumeister and Vohs 2004). As Regnerus states, partly based on our own extensive survey of research findings, men want sex, indeed more than women want it (Baumeister et al. 2001). Women, meanwhile, want not only marriage but also access to careers and preferential treatment in the workplace. [ed: women are the reproductively more valuable sex, and so it makes sense that evolution would have "gifted" women with an oversized entitlement complex and the inability to engage in self-criticism.]

The giant trade thus essentially involved men giving women not only easy access but even preferential treatment in the huge institutions that make up society, which men created. [ed: but the grand bargain did not work out as intended for the masses of beta males who acquiesced to the new girl order. while alpha males certainly saw more action from "liberated" women, the average joe did not. instead, all the average joe got in return for sacrificing his workplace status in hopes of easier sex was... a heaping helping of humiliation and wage stagnation and anti-joe animus, which continues at an accelerated pace to this day. this is a critical distinction i would like to see Baumeister address.] Today most schools, universities, corporations, scientific organizations, governments, and many other institutions have explicit policies to protect and promote women. It is standard practice to hire or promote a woman ahead of an equally qualified man. Most large organizations have policies and watchdogs that safeguard women’s interests and ensure that women gain preferential treatment over men. Parallel policies or structures to protect men’s interests are largely nonexistent and in many cases are explicitly prohibited. Legal scholars, for example, point out that any major new law is carefully scrutinized by feminist legal scholars who quickly criticize any aspect that could be problematic or disadvantageous to women, and so all new laws are women-friendly. Nobody looks out for men, and so the structural changes favoring women and disadvantaging men have accelerated (Baumeister and Vohs 2004). [...]

Even today, the women’s movement has been a story of women demanding places and preferential treatment in the organizational and institutional structures that men create, rather than women creating organizations and institutions themselves. Almost certainly, this reflects one of the basic motivational differences between men and women, which is that female sociality is focused heavily on one-to-one relationships, whereas male sociality extends to larger groups networks of shallower relationships (e.g., Baumeister and Sommer 1997; Baumeister 2010). Crudely put, women hardly ever create large organizations or social systems. That fact can explain most of the history of gender relations, in which the gender near-equality of prehistorical societies was gradually replaced by progressive inequality—not because men banded together to oppress women, but because cultural progress arose from the men’s sphere with its large networks of shallow relationships, while the women’s sphere remained stagnant because its social structure emphasized intense one-to-one relationships to the near exclusion of all else (see Baumeister 2010). All over the world and throughout history (and prehistory), the contribution of large groups of women to cultural progress has been vanishingly small. [ed: what do you think will happen to a nation's cultural progress when it goes out of its way to give preferential treatment to its women who, as a sex, prefer tawdry one-to-one relationships to men's preference for the growth potential in large shallow relationships? that's right, the economy and the culture come more and more to reflect women's preferences. result: progress that is the hallmark of rising empires grinds to a halt.] [...]

Why have men acquiesced so much in giving women the upper hand in society’s institutions? It falls to men to create society (because women almost never create large organizations or cultural systems). It seems foolish and self-defeating for men then to meekly surrender advantageous treatment in all these institutions to women. Moreover, despite many individual exceptions, in general and on average men work harder at their jobs in these institutions than women, thereby enabling men to rise to the top ranks. As a result, women continue to earn less money and have lower status than men, which paradoxically is interpreted to mean that women’s preferential treatment should be continued and possibly increased (see review of much evidence in Baumeister2010). Modern society is not far from embracing explicit policies of “equal pay for less work,” as one of us recently proposed. Regardless of that prospect, it appears that preferential treatment of women throughout the workforce is likely to be fairly permanent. Because of women’s lesser motivation and ambition, they will likely never equal men in achievement, and their lesser attainment is politically taken as evidence of the need to continue and possibly increase preferential treatment for them. [ed: the preferences shall continue until morale improves.]

But this pattern of male behavior makes more sense if we keep in mind that getting sex is a high priority for men, especially young men. Being at a permanent disadvantage in employment and promotion prospects, as a result of affirmative action policies favoring women, is certainly a cost to young men, but perhaps not a highly salient one. What is salient is that sex is quite readily available. As Regnerus reports, even a man with dismal career prospects (e.g., having dropped out of high school) can find a nice assortment of young women to share his bed.

Mangan makes a valid objection to this Baumeister theory that affirmative action for women increased men’s sexual access by noting that it was likely contraception and cost-of-sex-reducing technology — the Pill, abortion, and penicillin — which opened the floodgates to “free” love. I put “free” in quotes because in reality, the sexual revolution did not benefit all men equally; alpha males got the lion’s share of premarital sex from economically self-sufficient women. Beta males suffered more than usual, having to endure watching from the sidelines as alpha males cleaned up, while simultaneously being deprived of the best leverage they had in the sexual market: their promise of marital resources.

However, I do think Baumeister is onto something true, in that increased female workplace participation meant that men with reasonably high status jobs had a lot more fleshy temptresses from whom to conveniently choose, and that women must certainly have felt less restricted in their sexuality once they were meeting their own financial needs and could afford to risk happy dalliances with sexually desirable, but more non-committal, alpha males.

Again, Le Chateau was on top of all this years ago, when we proposed a sea change in the American cultural landscape heralded by the coming of the Four Five Six Sirens of the Sexual Apocalypse:

1. Effective and widely available contraceptives (the Pill, condom, and the de facto contraceptive abortion).
2. Easy peasy no-fault divorce.
3. Women’s economic independence (hurtling towards women’s economic advantage if the college enrollment ratio is any indication).
4. Rigged feminist-inspired laws that have caused a disincentivizing of marriage for men and an incentivizing of divorce for women.
5. Penicillin (reduced the cost of contracting STDs)
6. Widely available hardcore porn.

I added numbers five and six to the list of Sexual Apocalypse Sirens, because they seem to me just as important to understanding how the sexual market changed in the last fifty or so years.

So, a crib sheet of quippy replies if you ever need it to send a feminist or manboob howling with indignation:

1. The Pill
2. No-fault divorce
3. Working women
4. Man-hating feminism
5. Penicillin
6. Porn

Toss into a social salad bowl already brimming with an influx of non-European immigrants thanks to the 1965 soft genocide act, mix thoroughly, and voila!: a huge, inexorable, relentless leftward shift in American politics, an explosion of single moms, wage stagnation, government growth, upper class childlessness, lower class dysgenics, and a creaking, slow deterioration in the foundational vigor of the nation and the gutting of the pride of her people.

Into this pot pie of portent throw in the Skittles Man, Bring the Movies Man, Nah Man, and Disappeared Again Man, for whom girls have always swooned but who now, thanks to relaxed pressure from women themselves requiring men to put a ring on it before getting any huggy or kissy, and the incentivizing of risky sexual behavior by government policy and contraceptive technology, could enjoy sex without the entanglement of marriage or gainful employment.

Game, for all the shit it gets from the usual suspects, was just a rational response to a radically altered playing field. It didn’t cause this calamity; it just profited from it.

Meanwhile, beta males are left scratching their block-like skulls, wondering what the fuck just happened.

Back to Baumeister.

Nowadays young men [ed: correction: alpha males] can skip the wearying detour of getting education and career prospects to qualify for sex. Nor does he have to get married and accept all those costs, including promising to share his lifetime earnings and forego other women forever. Female sex partners are available without all that. [ed: ...to those men with charm in the game.]

So maybe the young men don’t care that much about how the major social institutions in the world of work have become increasingly rigged to favor women. Sex has become free and easy. This is today’s version of the opiate of the (male) masses. The male who beds multiple women is enjoying life quite a bit, and so he may not notice or mind the fact that his educational and occupational advancement is vaguely hampered by all the laws and policies that push women ahead of him. After all, one key reason he wanted that advancement was to get sex, and he already has that. Climbing the corporate ladder for its own sake may still hold some appeal, but undoubtedly it was more compelling when it was vital for obtaining sex. Success isn’t as important as it once was, when it was a prerequisite for sex. [ed: success isn't as important for beta males, either, because success doesn't provide the same sexual market leverage like it used to for them. how is a no-game-having, 9-to-5er beta male supposed to woo a lawyercunt pulling six figures?]

If men don’t need career success to get sex, then what if anything do they need success for? Some research indicates that career motivation really intensifies for men when they become fathers. Indeed, it has long been known that the transition to parenthood has opposite effects by gender. New mothers withdraw from their work and careers; new fathers embrace work and career with enhanced seriousness and motivation (for a review see Baumeister 1991). [ed: the "pay gap" explained.] [...]

With regard to work, the societal changes are producing less contribution by men and more by women. These might offset, with few or no costs to society. Still, replacing male with female workers may bring some changes, insofar as the two genders approach work differently. Compared to men, women have higher rates of absenteeism, seek social rewards more than financial ones, are less ambitious, work fewer hours overall, are more prone to take extended career interruptions, and identify less with the organizations they work for. They are more risk averse, resulting in fewer entrepreneurs and inventions. (Baumeister 2010, noted an appalling gender imbalance in new patents; nobody is seriously suggesting that the U.S. Patent office systematically discriminates against women, but women simply do not apply for patents in anything close to the rate that men do.) Women are less interested in science and technology fields. They create less wealth (for themselves and others). [ed: the roman empire wept.] [...]

The female contribution of sex to the marriage is evanescent: As women age, they lose their sexual appeal much faster than men lose their status and resources, and some alarming evidence even indicates that wives rather quickly lose their desire for sex (Arndt 2009). To sustain a marriage across multiple decades, many husbands must accommodate to the reality of having to contribute work and other resources to a wife whose contribution of sex dwindles sharply in both quantity and quality—and who also may disapprove sharply of him seeking satisfaction in alternative outlets such as prostitution, pornography, and extramarital dalliance.

Baumeister is a serious realtalker.

We speculate that today’s young men may be exceptionally ill prepared for a lifetime of sexual starvation that is the lot of many modern husbands. The traditional view that a wife should sexually satisfy her husband regardless of her own lack of desire has been eroded if not demolished by feminist ideology that has encouraged wives to expect husbands to wait patiently until the wife actually desires sex, with the result that marriage is a prolonged episode of sexual starvation for the husband. [...] Today’s young men spend their young adulthood having abundant sex with multiple partners, and that seems to us to be an exceptionally poor preparation for a lifetime of sexual starvation.

Game can save marriages from the fate of sexual starvation. At least until the wifey is no longer attractive enough to stimulate the hubby. Ah well, waddayagonnado?

Although we have noted warning signs and problems, we remain optimistic. [ed: i don't.] Despite the obstacles and changing contingencies, men and women have always managed to find each other and work together to create a modicum of happiness for both and to create a sphere in which children can grow, thrive, and sustain the culture for another few decades. [ed: yes, men and women will always find each other. the question is, what form will that finding take? that is the issue which matters for those who seek to maximize the social good.] The coming generation will face novel challenges, but somehow we think they will muddle through and manage to reinvent family life yet again. [ed: sometimes the reinvention is not as good as the original.]

All in all, a stellar paper that lays down the hammer of hurt on the pushers of pretty lies. For this reason, I expect the liars and degenerates and serpentine sophists currently running the country into the ground to thoroughly ignore and/or distort it.

My main objections to the paper center around the fact that Baumeister/Vohs don’t explore female hypergamy and alpha male/beta male distinction in much detail, which is a shortcoming I hope the both of them will address in the future. Nonetheless, their work is essentially a huge vindication of the concepts that the proprietors at Chateau Heartiste have been elucidating since the first day this blog drove a stake through the heart of the reigning discourse and claimed a piece of this decaying culture for itself. And someday, perhaps soon, a real rain will come and wash all the lies off the streets.

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Men Can’t Be Friends With (Attractive) Women: The Science

Four years ago, this esteemed blog laid out in detail the reasons why men can’t be friends with bangable women, and under which conditions male-female friendships could plausibly form and endure.

Men and women simply cannot be friends unless certain conditions are met.

• Mutual lack of attraction

This is easy. When there’s no loin burning to get in the way a girl buddy is like a guy buddy, except you can dump on her about your dating troubles and give your opinion of in-season colors without getting laughed at.

[...]

• One way attraction, girl to guy

Girls find it easier to keep their sex drives in check, which is why they can retain their sanity while remaining friends with uninterested guys they are attracted to far longer than the reverse scenario. Men who are attracted to their girl buddies cannot stay friends for long without either making a sloppy move and killing the friendship or sacrificing their last ounce of dignity as they go insane from blue balls toxic shock.

[...]

• One way attraction, player to girl

There is only one way a single man can be friends with a woman he wants to bang and that’s when his balls are so drained from fucking other women that he feels no testicular pressure to act on his desire. You’ll notice that a typical sexually satisfied alpha has lots of hot girl acquaintances he doesn’t bother gaming because the effort required is not worth the very small marginal increase in pleasure or risk of losing the girls as social proof and as friends.

[...]

• The man is married or in a relationship

If you’re looking to be a cool friend to hot chicks without falling victim to the temptation to hit on them, you can acquire this noble virtue on the cheap by shackling your vice within the artificial prison of marriage or exclusive relationships. (Note: The opposite doesn’t work — most men will sleep with a hot married woman given the chance and in spite of the risk.) This is the foolproof method for betas to be relaxed and emotionally stable friends with attractive girls they’d love to bang. They simply tell themselves that they already have a girl waiting for them at home who they love very much or, if they don’t love her, who would be really pissed if they cheated on her, and so the pressure is off. They can therefore rationalize their asexual acquiescence to LJBFdom as a pose of moral rectitude.

[...]

• She’s on the internet and you can’t see her in person

Pretty simple trick to be platonic with a chick when she’s a flick on your monitor and a thousand miles away.

As per usual, the Chateau was more right than it knew, and ahead of its time. Recently, a scientific study has confirmed just about every observationally sound assertion put forth in that seminal post.

[T]he possibility remains that this apparently platonic coexistence is merely a façade, an elaborate dance covering up countless sexual impulses bubbling just beneath the surface.

New research suggests that there may be some truth to this possibility—that we may think we’re capable of being “just friends” with members of the opposite sex, but the opportunity (or perceived opportunity) for “romance” is often lurking just around the corner, waiting to pounce at the most inopportune moment. [...]

The results suggest large gender differences in how men and women experience opposite-sex friendships. Men were much more attracted to their female friends than vice versa. Men were also more likely than women to think that their opposite-sex friends were attracted to them—a clearly misguided belief. In fact, men’s estimates of how attractive they were to their female friends had virtually nothing to do with how these women actually felt, and almost everything to do with how the men themselves felt—basically, males assumed that any romantic attraction they experienced was mutual, and were blind to the actual level of romantic interest felt by their female friends. Women, too, were blind to the mindset of their opposite-sex friends; because females generally were not attracted to their male friends, they assumed that this lack of attraction was mutual. As a result, men consistently overestimated the level of attraction felt by their female friends and women consistently underestimated the level of attraction felt by their male friends. [...]

These results suggest that men, relative to women, have a particularly hard time being “just friends.” What makes these results particularly interesting is that they were found within particular friendships (remember, each participant was only asked about the specific, platonic, friend with whom they entered the lab). This is not just a bit of confirmation for stereotypes about sex-hungry males and naïve females; it is direct proof that two people can experience the exact same relationship in radically different ways. Men seem to see myriad opportunities for romance in their supposedly platonic opposite-sex friendships. The women in these friendships, however, seem to have a completely different orientation—one that is actually platonic.

Science ♥s Heartiste. It feels good being so right so often, but honestly a high “being right to being wrong” ratio isn’t that difficult to achieve as long as you are open to seeing reality for what it is, rather than what you wish it to be. The study’s money quote:

Taken together, these studies suggest that men and women have vastly different views of what it means to be “just friends”—and that these differing views have the potential to lead to trouble. Although women seem to be genuine in their belief that opposite-sex friendships are platonic, men seem unable to turn off their desire for something more. And even though both genders agree overall that attraction between platonic friends is more negative than positive, males are less likely than females to hold this view.

If you were to read nothing in life except this blog, you would be better equipped to successfully navigate the obstacles life throws at you than a feminist or manboob who has read 10,000 cathedral-certified gender studies textbooks at $100 a pop.

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The Dark Romance Genre

chris suggests:

Heartiste, you’re a good writer, given the current popularity of dark-romance novels (i.e. 50 shades of grey, twilight), have you ever considered taking your own shot at writing an erotic romance novel for women, and seeing just how dark and twisted the female sexual psyche is, just for the fun of it?

Examples: Jack the Ripper, a misunderstood man who just loved too much. [ed: i laughed.]
or

SS Nazi Officer, blonde haired Ubermensch, whose steel cold and ruthless determination would give way to heartfelt whispers of love and tenderness.
or

Jaws, a tale of unrequited interspecies romance.

My guess is the second one might actually prove popular if done right.

Have I considered writing a dark romance novel? Who says I haven’t already?

The time is clearly ripe for it. Millions of Western women, removed from the emotional grounding of real struggle, surrounded on all sides by lapdog betas, inflamed to uncontrollable passions by the rare aloof alphas, are screaming out for quenching of their suppressed desires (suppressed, in part, by women’s own lifestyle paths).

I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that sketchy pulp romance porn like Twilight and Fifty Shades of Sadism are currently very popular with women. The contours of our fantasies are most starkly delineated when feeding desire that is least fulfilled in reality. A society of more seductive men would dampen women’s inner world of secret desires. A society of beta males stokes it.

Women, of course, have never been sugar and spice. The female sexual psyche shades and twists in degrees, ebbing and flowing according to social or ecological pressures, but it never ceases being a land of shadow and maze. A subversive romance novel that humanized some alpha male monster via a woman’s love and hamstering genuflection would simultaneously satisfy female desire and send it up. I like the second one, too. SS officer shows soft side, woman who loves him sets out first to win his trust and kill him in his sleep, but can’t help following her heart. He implants his Hitler youth in her womb. Fin.

Here’s another idea:

Unusually cute feminist who writes pointless blog liberating fatties and cunts from bowel-shaking judgment is seduced by lacrosse playing frat boy son of a Republican bigwig. She finds out he has murdered three black prostitutes and buried the bodies in a remote Virginia wood, but by that time her heart swoons for his hot-cold-hot-cold, dread-inducing relationship acumen, and her vagina struggles against her conscience for dominance. One night he takes her to the spot where the bodies are decomposing and asks if she wants to be tied to a tree. Fear and tingles grip her, and she relents despite her misgivings, overcome with hot lust to fulfill a long-held fantasy of getting “play”-raped against a stately oak. He asks increasingly demanding questions, to which she answers affirmatively, her vagina glowing hotter with each reluctant submission. A French poodle trots into the scene, film noirish, and it triggers a lost memory from her youth, when a niceguy beta with a good job and kitchen skills loved her and promised her a life of domestic contentment and backrubs. A single feminist tear creases her face, now ripped by agony and pleasure as frat boy’s turgid paddle rends her furrow. He is wearing a Zorro mask. She mewls like a cougar in the throes of post-meal delight.

Months of dangerous sex punctuate a rise in feminist stardom, but she keeps her secret well, suffering the endless indignities of his increasingly deranged intrusions upon her body and claims on her womanhood, going so far as to construct a locket for her to permanently wear as reminder of his love. The spiral of passion imprisons and releases her, until one day he unceremoniously dumps her after she catches him anally boffing her radical feminist co-editor. Now presumably freed of his inexplicable power over her, she makes plans to reveal his crimes, but every time, just when she is about to pull the trigger, she steps away from the brink to collect her thoughts on long eatpraylove straycations, the last one to Morocco, where a swarthy fellow selling exotic wool carpets that cost five cents to manufacture in a Chinese factory accosts her in a dusty alley and introduces her to sexy jihad. From there, she comes down with an extreme case of Stockholm Syndrome and follows him on a pilgrimage to London, where she is initiated into the chain migration family through one-sided arranged marriage. She becomes a zealous Muslim convert, and feels a love and emotional calm she has never felt before, except when memories of that one man sidle into her dreams…

A tall, blonde-haired figure in an extra-tight European blazer slips into the used book shoppe she now runs with her Moroccan sister/aunt/cousin-in-law. He places a dog-eared tome on the counter: “My Secret Garden”. Her fingers tremble and dance along the spine of the book. A nerve shake sends ripples along her flesh. She peers vainly for his eyes under the fedora with the rim pulled down low. All she sees is a studded metal plate covering half his face and a whimsical smirk.

“It’s you?”

The man taps the book cover with a sinewy index finger. She stumbles at the cash register and rings him up. A knife sits gamely in the pence slot. She stares at it for a second, before composing herself.

She gives him the change. He lets his hand linger in hers as the currency empties into his palm. He taps the book again, and walks slowly out the door. She opens the book and finds a marked page. Nestled between the pages is a skeleton key. She collapses to the floor. The iron locket that has pierced her for ten years presses sharply against her pubis. A note flutters from the book and lands in her lap.

“I forgive you.”

She weeps as a powerful orgasm paralyzes her. The key waits for her. She picks it up, caresses it, and throws it into the trash.

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Laying Down The Law On Attention Whores

A reader talks about how he trains his slut girlfriend:

I have to credit the Chateau to some degree for what has happened in my relationship over the past week.

A little background: We’ve been dating for about 15 months or so, it’s a pretty serious relationship and I am letting her move in with me starting in January. She’s a solid 8, 5’2″, 100lbs and a great body.

I am currently away for work for the next 7 weeks, and it’s put a bit of a strain on the relationship for the first few weeks of my absence. [ed: if you have hand in the relationship -- i.e., she wants you more than you want her, or you have more latent options than she has -- a long absence will work in your favor.] This past weekend she said she and her best friend were going to get matching tattoos that they’d been talking about getting for years. They were going to get them on their ankles, which I found to be incredibly trashy looking. I put my foot down and said I did not approve and did not want her to get it. She lashed out initially and got upset, saying she felt like she couldn’t make decisions on her own anymore. I told her simply and succinctly that if she was wanting to be in this type of serious relationship with me that there were boundaries. I stood my ground, and was rewarded. Shortly after, her response was that she was not getting the ankle tattoo…and much love was sent my way.

In previous portions of my life I may not have reacted as confidently and strongly. I give partial credit to this site for waking my ass up. Thank you.

Proving a Chateau maxim, tattoos are a leading indicator of sluttiness. The more garish the tattoo, and the closer the tattoo sits to an erogenous zone, the more likely the wearer has taken the cock carousel for an extended after-hours spin.

But tattoos are also kind of sexy, especially small ones in dainty, hidden places, like the ankle or hip. This is why girls both wish to have them, and feel guilt about getting them: tats make women more attractive as short term flings but less attractive as long-term romantic partners.

I commend you for laying down the law. Your spidey sense tingled and telegraphed to you that your girlfriend would become a bigger cheating risk if she followed through with getting the tattoo. And the fact that she wants a tat has made you reevaluate her fidelity risk profile. Yours was a bold move, and chicks dig the bold move.

Naturally, a girl will stamp her wee feet when you tell her you won’t tolerate this or that behavior from her. But if you stay firm and in control of your emotions, and you are perfectly ready to call her bluff should she attempt the ol’ “I’ll find someone else who can appreciate me” counter-maneuver, you will be richly rewarded with her new and improved loyalty. Women love to feel sexy, and nothing makes them feel sexier than submitting, at last, to a strong man’s will. When you properly lead, women can’t wait to fall in line and follow. They are wired to follow, but only behind a man worthy of their relinquishment.

The reader above wrote a week later with an update:

Gentlemen…same guy that submitted about the ankle tat yesterday.

My gf recently discovered the ability of a hot girl to get lots of followers and instant positive reaction from twitter trolls. [ed: trouble brewing.] So this has sucked up a lot of her time over the past couple weeks, and she’ll post flirty pictures and what not. She’s got nearly 600 followers already and probably about 1700 tweets in the last 3 weeks that she’s put out. I’m on twitter as well and following her and vice versa and we interact on there as well as via txt/phone like we always have. I haven’t seen really anything that’s stepped over the line except one instance where I immediately called her out on it. She retweeted a somewhat suggestive comment a guy had made passively referring to her. She immediately took it down and said she was sorry, she didn’t really think of it that way. She said she just found it funny so she retweeted it.

She does interact with other guys on there, and I have indicated that I will not tolerate any sort of flirting with other guys. She offered to take it down last week when we were fighting about all of this, but I get the feeling the offer was simply a trap. I told her I wasn’t telling her to take it down, but that I was not going to allow twitter to be taking my place. My gut feeling on all of this isn’t all that great. I’m away for work until after the election and I only get to see her maybe once a week if we’re lucky.

Thoughts on the twitter? I know what’s going on here…she’s never been the girl that all the guys wanted, [ed: was she an ugly duckling as a child?] and now this lets her soak up all the instant compliments and such. I realize that it’s simply her feeding her desire for validation, but I need to keep it under control. Thoughts?

Be careful. Your girlfriend is transmogrifying into an attention whore right before your eyes. 600 Twit followers from posting salacious pics of herself. Yes, women have so much to contribute to civilization; namely, they passively motivate men to do the heavy lifting. Your GF’s confessed desire for a tattoo was an early warning signal. Twitter is like a gateway drug to evermore dangerous attention whoring highs. The progression usually starts off slowly, and culminates in a raging runaway ego:

Infancy ==> if she’s a cute baby, adults will stare at her longer
Toddlerhood ==> all her antics are “adorable”. uglier toddlers get chastised.
Grade school ==> a constant stream of self-esteem boosting messages from parents, teachers and media begin the malignant growth of her ego.
Social media ==> she has entered the world of sexting, Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. there’s no turning back now.
High school ==> one “innocent” flirty pic of her in a bikini results in 2,314 likes from men of all ages around the country. she savors her power.
College (or working class service jobs) ==> the tables begin to turn, due to the unfavorable sex ratio and the world of ruthlessly aloof cads who are wise enough to not feed her ego. but it’s a short bump along her highway of hubris.
SWPLland! ==> the working world brings her in contact with hordes of undersexed, overcomplimenting beta herbs. the few alpha males shine like diamonds in this rough. she at once gets her ego fed and her tingles satiated.
Alpha male overdose ==> fifty years later, she will remember this one week romance she had with the man who never replied to her texts, except to say “gay”, and who gave her a bag of Skittles as a gift. the Skittles are now moldy, still cherished. she is ruined for all beta males. her ego has exploded.
Bars/nightclubs/scenes ==> not one of her drunken sexpot poses or phony smiles goes unphotographed or unreported for public consumption. beta males virtually hoist her above their heads, like an Egyptian queen. by now, her ego has metastasized into terminal cancer of the soul. deeply diseased women will experience shortness of breath when no one is taking their picture. bar dancing whores will strategically go commando on nights out.
Working world ==> “I don’t even need a man to pay for my shoes!”
Adulthood ==> historically, age 18 ushered adulthood, but times have changed. 30 is the new grown-up. her looks are beginning to show signs of the remorseless fade, but years of accumulated beta male sycophancy have gifted her with an ego able to weather a storm of self-doubt for years past her sell-by date.
Withdrawal ==> whether or not she has managed to land a beta sucker for marriage, she begins to experience withdrawal symptoms from coming off her attention drug. no more likes on FB. Twit pics garner 10 followers instead of 600. her “you go girl” chorus consists of mostly flabby, cat-owning hausfraus. blog commenters mock her thumbnail avatar. even the tattoo artist suggests she get a more tasteful tat on a “smoother” part of her body.
Lashing out ==> the beta hubby, because of his proximity and inborn weakness, suffers the brunt of her bitter spite. she will open her legs for random jerks who can’t be bothered to learn her name. she will nag her husband or BF until he is pulling his pud to gloomy, late-night porn while she sleeps. if he’s lucky, divorce or a break-up will relieve him of his indentured servitude.
Children ==> she will live vicariously through her daughter, enrolling her in creepy kiddie beauty pageants, or, if she’s higher class, seducing her daughter’s horny boyfriends away from her. the drastic shrinking of her desensitized ego will render her a bitchy malcontent, unable to feel pride in any personal achievement, and needing to latch onto others for internal validation.
Ego death ==> arrives twenty years after sexual prime death. decades of self-delusion have taken their toll. she is a shell entity.

Good reader, this is your future if you do not take steps to redirect her away from the siren song of social media aka digital stripper pole. Your gut feeling is correct; it’s a bad sign for your relationship that she’s passively flirting with men on Twitter, no matter how insistently she protests it’s all innocent fun.

Maxim #41: It’s never innocent fun.

If you’re in a solid relationship with a girl who loves you and values you, external validation through social media will never become an issue. She will use Twitter and Facebook to keep in touch with her social circle, and privatize her accounts so random men can’t find her and comment on her photos or daily musings. That is a normal, healthy female response to the lure of social media status whoring. A woman in love is validated by her lover, not by cloying flattery from hard-up strangers.

My friend, between the tattoo and the Twitter whoring, you are getting red flags flapping in a stiff wind over your head. She is constitutionally incapable of finding self-worth without propping herself on a fiber optically constructed sex stage or marking her body for the amusement of the gawking masses. Or perhaps she finds you insufficient as a man powerful enough to sway her from the attention whore spotlight. Or it could be both reasons.

Whatever it is, you have to proceed as if what you have with her is far from locked downed. All girls have an innate desire for external validation, as it is the nature of their sex that external characteristics most define their value in the sexual market, which is the one market to rule them all. But the degree to which women desire this external ego stroking varies by woman, based on variables like psychological predisposition, beauty, family history and being in love. The ideal woman is a pretty girl who got lots of affection *and* character-building discipline from her father, and who’d rather suffer the vagaries of being in love than play head games to avoid being hurt.

Anyhow, you have already once laid (lain?) down the law with your girlfriend, over her tattoo request. So I don’t see a reason why you can’t put your foot down again and tell her to privatize her online accounts. The danger with laying down the law is that overuse of your authority can create an impression, justified or not, of insecurity: the man who needs to be in control of every facet of his woman’s life is a man who is afraid the tiniest taste of freedom will send her running for the exits.

I respectfully suggest your LTR has some issues that need clarifying. Fifteen months is just about the time when both parties will subconsciously judge the quality of their relationship, and decide to keep at it or find a way out. This is especially so in modern America, a strange time of delayed responsibility and celebrated shamelessness, particularly of women. Furthermore, moving in together tends to hasten and strengthen the internal call for judgment. She is acting out because things have just gotten real.

My advice:

Keep a suspicious eye on her. Flirt with other girls to remind yourself you have options should the worst happen and your girlfriend cheats or hints at breaking up. Tell her public tweeting is out; if she really loves you, she’ll gladly accept the imposition on her crass desires. Remind her it’s for her own good over the long-term, and that other girls you have dated had no need to whore on Twitter. At last, begin to instill some dread in your relationship; this is how you will simultaneously test for her faithfulness and fullness of heart, and draw her away from the temptation of external validation. I’d offer you good luck, but I think that even if you “win” this round with her, the future prognosis doesn’t look promising. She’s on the upswing of venturing forth into attention whore land, and it’s hard to bring a girl back down to earth when she’s already catapulting into lookatme orbit.

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Game And HBD: BFFs

Haha. I bet you read the title and thought this post would be a lengthy treatise on the shared philosophical underpinnings of game and human biodiversity (HBD). Psyche!

A reader emails:

Hello. I’d like to add the entry of Game to the HBD Dictionary:

As a rough draft entry, I have:

Game:  Using insights from evolutionary psychology and human biodiversity, game teaches men, especially beta males, how to simulate the attitudes and characteristics of alpha males so as to be more attractive to females.

Again, a rough draft.  Feel free to re-write.

Also, if you can think of any other terms that need to be added or revisions to current terms, please let me know.

I don’t have a major problem with the crux of this reader’s definition of game. I see what he’s getting at. I might rephrase it to: “Using insights from evolutionary psychology and real world experience bedding women…”, but then the peer review panel would get the hives. However, I don’t think a definition should be nested (if that’s the right word); that is, a good definition won’t require the reader to have to look up the definitions of fuzzy words within the main definition (e.g., “beta males” or “alpha males”).

How about this definition instead (and one that avoids using the word game within the definition)?:

Game, noun

A systematized blueprint of male behavior for attracting, courting and seducing women in an efficient and powerful manner based on the practical application of theories of human, and particularly female, sexuality derived from the insights of evolutionary psychology, biology and real world experimentation.

Any alternate suggestions from the peanut gallery?

PS I do think game and HBD greatly overlap, despite the commonly held misconceptions that HBD is a synonym for genetic determinism or that game is a synonym for boundless behavioral plasticity.

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A Virgin Mormon’s Journey To Game

A reader who shall remain unidentified sent this story about his first time in a girl’s pussy. Names, venues and locations were changed by the reader to protect the privacy of those involved. I can’t vouch for the truthfulness of this tale. As is usual in these circumstances where anonymity is necessary, the policy is “what you read is what you get”. You may choose to believe or disbelieve.

******
Dear CH, this is my story. It is all true and has been edited to ensure real names, venue names and locations are not revealed. I’m not asking for feedback because there is much to read and much to learn from CH, and I simply have a lot of reading and learning to do.

I gift this story to you. I thought of you mid-pump. I could feel your god-like presence looking down on me with a look of patronistic-pride. [ed: no homo!]

Feel free to post any of this on CH, in fact it would be an honour, but I’m satisfied with the hope that you’ll read this and hopefully smile like a father watching his son ride a bike without training wheels for the first time. [ed: i know that feel, bro.]

The following interaction occurred in a country like England or Australia or The United States or New Zealand or Canada. I am 24 years old and recently made a big change in my life; I divorced my affiliation from the Church of Latter Day Saints (Mormons), my ultra-conservative Mormon family and 95% of my Mormon friends. I’m more or less on my own and the ‘moral’ floodgates are open; everything is fair game. This isn’t my excuse for not getting my fuck on earlier though. Had the hot and heavy opportunity landed in my lap (heh), I probably would have seized it. So I’m no saint as I have more than my lion’s share of really big fuck ups, but the few rules I tried to follow were related to drinking, drugs and pre-marital sex, etc. The ones your parents generally care about.

This is a true story with names changed or censored.
This is how I parted ways with my virginity.
You really can’t make this shit up.

(Note: All my life I’ve been a beta/nice-guy/just-friend, I’d never kissed a girl or anything beyond that… I’ve read the beginning of The Game by Neil Strauss up until the part where the NLP guy is doing shit with the sauce bottles. Prior to these events, I had frequented the Chateau less than a dozen times and felt like none of it could work for me… Looking back, I applied maybe 1% of things I had read and what my friends had advised me to do with girls, etc… In the last 3 months I’ve spooned with 3 different girls, the last one of whom I fingered and sucked on her tits (lol, yes, they were all awake and sober at the time also). Ha, the girl I fingered however… Man oh man did I suffer a terrible case of the blue-balls because of it… I could hardly walk or sit down, for the rest of the day. Fuck you 8th grade sex-ed teacher for saying blue-balls is just a myth. Up until the events as detailed below, I was a ‘classical’ virgin to all purposes and extents.

My dear friend Adam said to me after I retold these sordid events to him, “You did what you did as a beta. Imagine what you could achieve if you worked on your inner game and became a lesser alpha…”

Imagine it. Done.

—

The Dawn of my non-Virgin Self, by “m”.

23 August 2012

It was a Thursday evening and the weather wasn’t great. It had been raining for most of the day, grey skies and general gloom. Fuck it, I’m going out if anyone else is. By the time the night rolled around the weather had changed a little for the better. It was still bitterly cold which is very much par for the course in this city.

At 5:28 pm I texted Jane Stevenson: hey Janey, let’s go out tonight. celebrations are in order

I went and had a shower in anticipation for the night ahead. No plans were in the making other than the hope that Jane (Janey) would reply to my text and meet me in the city for drinks. At around 10:20 pm with no reply, I called Janey hoping she’d finished her basketball game (she plays basketball on Thursday nights) to see what she was doing. My call rang through to her voicemail and I hung up.

At 10:23 pm Jane Stevenson texted me: Hey! Sorry, I meant to text you. I’m at a 21st at Titanium, so we’re already out. What’re your plans? And what are we celebrating!?

At 10:24 pm I texted Jane Stevenson: haha, don’t bail, i’ll tell you what we’re celebrating when i get there

I promptly got dressed and fixed up my hair before heading out to the city. I parked in the “Horsing Around” car park and walked to Titanium Bar. Janey and her friend Hannah were standing next to a wall opposite the far end of the bar. I approached them and she noticed me and as we made contact, she put her arms around me, hello, blah, etc. She asked me what we were celebrating and I told her it was somewhat bittersweet… I told her that a job opportunity had come up in the capital city and that I not only got the job, but I was the preferred candidate for the role, “I’m moving away”. Janey and I have only met a handful of times but there has been obvious chemistry each time we met. I should have escalated things with her prior to tonight, but hindsight can go fuck itself in this particular instance. She said something to the effect of, “well I’m sure I’ll see you when you come to visit and I’ll try and come up to see you too”. This I liked. She introduced me to some of her friends and the 21st birthday boy, “[redacted]“.

Being the inexperienced drinker that I am (because of my prior “Mormonism”), I ordered a Tequila on the rocks (Jose Cuervo Especial) and it tasted of unwashed Mexican feet. It also cost me $9. Janey and a couple of her girlfriends were playfully giggling at me because of my drinking inexperience and the faces of pained disgust I was exaggerating. It was all cute, really. I went back to the bar and ordered a Red Bull to clean the flavour out of my mouth and thought I’d mix the two to see if it got any better. It did get a little better, but not by much. The Red Bull cost me $7. Janey advised me to stick with vodka and that I won’t regret it. These fucking prices also, goddamn.

It was decided that we would all leave Titanium Bar and go to McFadden’s Pub. When we finally got there (it’s about 4 blocks away) we were told by some members of the group who had left earlier that it was dead inside and the music was shit (they play the top 40, what were you expecting?), and we proceeded to return to the main nightclub strip. All the while we were walking to McFadden’s Pub and now back again, I was walking beside Janey, talking shit and applying a little kino when crossing the street. I was going to jaywalk in front of oncoming traffic (I would have made it across without issue) and Janey grabbed me by the torso and pulled me back into her, to save my life perhaps (lol). I put my arms around her and said, somewhat mockingly, “what, you care that much for me?” to which she replied, “I don’t like to see people get hurt.” I smirked at her and she smiled. We got to the front of Minq and waited for the birthday boy who had apparently gone off with a girl to get some food, however after having stood in the cold for 5 minutes his friends started calling him to see what was going on. Apparently he’d gone home (I don’t know if the girl went home with him or not) because he’d had a big enough night. Mind you, it couldn’t have been later than midnight at this point. “Some 21st”.

24 August 2012

When we got inside Minq we went to the dance floor and proceeded to dance in the fashion that SWPL youth dance. After about 15-20 minutes we left the dance floor and went to the bar overlooking the dance floor. I ordered a Vodka Red Bull (Red Bull Silver Edition: Lime). It cost me $10. After I finished my drink, Janey grabbed my arm and told me she and some of her friends were going downstairs for a cigarette break. I joined them so as not to be left alone in the club. During this cigarette break, some acquaintances of Janey’s joined us (apparently they were Canadian and [White] South Africans studying at a private school). Though I cannot recall his name, perhaps for lack of caring to, one of the South Africans I will refer to as WK had a keen interest in Janey. To my dismay (beta feelings), she seemed to reciprocate his advances and they kissed openly in the street. He was clearly the AMOG and applied kino aggressively and effectively. He also ‘seemed’ to be quite drunk. When I was introduced to him I simply told him to call me “m” as I ‘own that alphabet’ (and there are instances where I don’t want certain people to know my name). This stuck. Good.

It was then decided that we all go to the upstairs level of Horsing Around. There was more dancing and trips to the bar and more of WK and Janey making out. I tried my best to project an aura of idungivafuq but on the inside I was dying. Being a sports bar, Horsing Around had a promotional ‘snowboarding’ competition where competitors had to ride a mechanical snowboard for as long as they could to win some kind of prize. The mechanical snowboard works in a similar way to a mechanical bull. I got in line as I fancied my chances and managed to steal most of the group to come and watch me. I thought this would be a good chance to demonstrate some alpha athleticism so in my mind, I had a lot to lose if I failed… Behind me in line, I noticed an accent that seemed far from its native home. I turned to see a girl wearing a grey dress, black skin-tight lycra-esque-pants(?) and grey suede heels. She seemed to be 5-6 inches taller than myself (heels included). I said hi to her and enquired as to her place of origin. She told me she was a New Zealander and we started chatting; she was travelling the world and was currently based here working as an Au Pair full-time and as a barmaid part-time. We discussed our chances on the mechanical snowboard and she revealed to me that she has been snowboarding somewhat regularly, “at least a dozen times” back home (this was later evident in her performance). She asked me about my boarding experience and I told her it was minimal at best, but having been long boarding for a few months now, I have a general level of control on a board.

One of the men in charge of operating the mechanical snowboard approached us with a clipboard to sign the indemnity form in the event we should hurt ourselves whilst on their equipment; I think it was also to go in the running for some kind of bar tab prize. Riding the board had a no shoes, no socks policy and after a successful ‘practice run’ I motioned to the operator to let loose. In 15 seconds or less it went from cruisey, curvy sways to actual bucks as if you were going over a mound-field. The third one got me and I fell into the air-filled jumping-castle-like surrounds. I put my shoes and socks back on as the New Zealander girl was getting ready to have her go. She stayed on for over a minute. After she got her shoes back on I congratulated her on her superior snowboarding skills and asked her for her name. She told me her name was Samantha. I said to her, “hey listen, since I might not see you again tonight, give me your number cause you seem like a pretty cool chick”, to which she replied, “but I have a boyfriend”, to which I replied, “well maybe I just wanna be friends…” and shrugged with a look of nonchalance on my face. It did the trick. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that she was leaving the club to go somewhere else with her friends and there was a sense of urgency about it all… She didn’t know what her number was by heart but had it saved in her phone. She found her own contact and I typed it into my phone and saved the contact as Samantha Newport (Kiwi Chick). She left and my friends and I carried on for about an hour (drinking, dancing, smoking, etc.) and when we were satisfied that we had had enough, we went to Macdonald’s.

The group walked in and sat at a table, I stayed outside and spoke with a street musician as I’d met him on a previous night out and had heard his life story through song. I feel like we’re more than strangers in an odd sort of way. After some chit-chat, Janey came outside to join me and have a smoke (I don’t smoke by the way) and I introduced her to my Liberian street musician friend. He told her she was very beautiful and that I was very ‘lucky’ to have a girlfriend like her, which made her blush. Neither of us corrected him. I tossed some money into his guitar case and asked him to play a Bob Marley song. Going from the best to the worst wingman ever, he played Redemption Song instead of Is This Love. WK came outside and AMOG’d me by being all handsey and kissyface and whisked Janey away back inside. After he was done playing his song I shook his hand and told him to have a good night. I went inside the Macdonald’s restaurant and everyone was eating a burger or whatever. WK had ordered a side of Janey and was yet again busy eating her face. The awkward thing for me throughout the whole night was that Janey was the only person I knew beforehand. After 10-15 minutes everyone was feeling tired enough to go home. I think it was around 2:30 am. Janey was about to get into a taxi with WK and I called out to her. She came to me and hugged me good night. I told her, “I don’t want you going home with him…”, but she gave me a pained expression and got into his taxi anyway. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that interaction.  I’m not going to assume anything happened or didn’t happen, I simply truly do not care for had this not happened, The following would not have occurred:

Feeling defeated, I did a very beta thing…
At 2:42 am I texted Jane Stevenson: </3
There was no (immediate) reply.

I felt like a loser because I was. I lost the girl I wanted for the night to someone younger than myself, younger than Janey, and I felt ashamed. I decided I’d solo the rest of the night and see how things turn out. I went back to Minq and just as I got up the stairs and walked in, I noticed Samantha the New Zealander girl walking towards me, but she didn’t recognise me (or maybe didn’t want to) so I called out to her and she turned around. I asked where she was going and she said something to the effect of, “I’m trying to find my friends, I think they’re outside or something”, to which I replied, “well text them to come here and stay here and party with me”. She had a look on her face that said “but I need to find my friends, some shit’s going down” and she said bye and left.

At 2:58 am I texted Samantha Newport (Kiwi Chick): come back to the club, i’d love for you to chill with me for a bit

No reply. I felt defeated again. I stayed in the club and watched some well booty-endowed African girls dancing while I sipped my Red Bull. I finished my drink, left the can on a table and walked out into the lonely cold.

DESPAIR

Despair was starting to break me so I went to ground level Horsing Around, a nightclub renowned for being home of the easy pump and dump. It’s not actually that bad and I’d say the whole pump and dump label was applied because of a particular patronage that I haven’t seen there in years, but labels stick.

I wasn’t feeling like dancing or drinking anymore, I’d had 2 (count’em, 2!) drinks and wanting to be safe, I wanted to just chill for a bit to get the alcohol out of my system before taking the road home. I sat at one end of a corner table that some 30 something year olds were sitting at and I watched some drunks playing pool. It was entertaining enough. Directly ahead of me I could see the dance floor and there were still some nice looking girls dancing and whatever. I have to mention this because I witnessed first-hand a truly disgusting thing. A fairly decent looking 40 something year old Asiatic man with a good build and friendly face approached a white girl probably in her early to mid-20′s with thighs as thick as… fuck… my waist? 32 inches? She was by no measure (heh) a small girl. He approached her with a jig in his step which was appropriate for the music that was playing at the time and tried to lean in to talk to her and no doubt invite her to dance with him or join him for a drink. Sitting with her hotter looking friends, she refused him with a look of polite disgust so as not to elicit violence but to also get her message across. This was no child though, being the man he was, he turned around, devil-may-care, and continued his dance walk away from her and back towards the dance floor. As he passed where I was sitting, I called him over and said to him, “What a crazy place we live where girls like that shoot down handsome men like you *wink* (no-homo)”, he laughed and shook my hand and went about his way.

Another 5-10 minutes passed and as luck would have it, I saw Samantha on the dance floor dancing with some guy. She and some guy danced literally towards me and I just sat there, trying to look cool and aloof (dead eyes, left thumb hooked in pocket, right arm stretched out across the top of the seats, etc). I’m not sure where the guy fucked off to, but he left and I poked Samantha in her right ass cheek with my left index finger. She turned around and saw me, realised she’d run into me again and started chit chatting about stuff I can’t remember. Not sure if I can call him an AMOG gorilla or whatever, but this African guy came out of nowhere and started dancing with her all up close and personal and intimate and shit, and I just sat there, cool look of detachment on my face as she stared back at me. After a minute or so, it started to look painfully obvious that his advances and adventurous hands were no longer appreciated, so I motioned with my right index finger a ‘come hither’ to Samantha much the same way you would to a kitten. She came and sat next to me and I put my right hand around her waist (DTF lol). African guy had this hilarious look of ‘what the fuck?’ on his face and though he didn’t say anything, he tried to dance her back into his arms as weird as that sounds, much the same way a peacock would probably try to display it’s feathers more alluringly to a pea-hen that’s been taken away from it. She sat next to me and I didn’t say anything to her or look at her, and she finally said, “I feel so threatened sitting here with you”, to which I replied, “ha, and why’s that?”, and she moved away a bit and said “because you’re being so distant. I moved in closer than before (remember, this is a night club with loud music, conversation is mouth-to-ear with centimetres in it) and said, “I’m distant because you’re cold”. Something in her changed and she moved in and rested her head on my shoulder and told me she was tired. I took her hand and drew circles in her palm with my index finger and when she asked me what I was doing, I told her this is how I get to know the girls that I like. She laughed and I asked her where she lives, she told me and I told her “I can drive you home if you like, you’re on my way”, and this seemed quite agreeable to her.

We went to the dance floor, she said bye to her friend who was dancing with some other guy and we stepped outside. I took my jacket off and wrapped her in it (she had her arms crossed) and she protested, “no it’s okay, blah blah blah”, and I told her to shut up and accept chivalry when it’s given. No further argument. I’ll skip some of the detail here because I don’t want this to be on par with Lord of the Rings. We got to my car, drove to her place, I pulled into her driveway. I said to her, with the engine of my car still running, “I don’t want this to be goodnight”, to which she replied, “what do you want?” … She leaned in close to my ear, her breath heavy on my neck and I said after a slight pause, “I want to spend the night in you”. She started kissing me and was quite bitey which I found quite funny, that is to say, she was biting my lips and not particularly lightly either, and it should be noted that this was my first kiss. We made out for about 30 seconds and I knew I had to escalate shit fast. I gently pulled away from her and my lips finally left the vice-like grip of her teeth and I switched my car engine off. I got out of my car walked around to her side. She’d already opened her door and I gave her my hand to help her out, she got out, started making out with me in the street and I pulled away again to lock my car. She led me to an intercom panel to gain entry to her complex where the key to her house was biometric security based; her right index finger to be precise. She walked me through the gate and told me to stick to the wall as I walked as there are security cameras and she’s not allowed to have company in her house.

Everything at this point felt surreal. Here I was, having just had my first kiss(es) with a pretty good looking girl and she was leading me into her bedroom. I knew I was going to get my fuck on tonight, I could just never have anticipated things would have been like this. We got inside, went up the stairs and into her bedroom. She started profusely apologising for the mess in her house (she later said she’s OCD about tidiness and even a few things here and there drive her crazy) and I told her it didn’t matter. We sat on the edge of her bed and started making out again, but having read my friends’ sisters’ girly magazine with him when I was 12 or 13, I knew about girls having this erogenous zone or something that goes from the lips to the neck to the shoulder, kind of like a triangle. I started working that area with my lips while I had a hand on the small of her back and another between her legs on her upper inner thigh. She started moaning so I assumed I was doing it right. Haha, women’s magazines actually serving a purpose for once.

She asked me how many girls I had been with and I told her not to freak out or panic, and I made a zero with my thumb and index finger. She didn’t believe me and I told her this isn’t the kind of thing I’d lie about, especially in this particular setting… She got upset and said she didn’t want to ruin me, that it wouldn’t be love or real, that I deserve to be in love with the person I want to share my first time with… I deflected all of her concerns telling her she couldn’t ruin me because I have a strong heart, that it didn’t get more real than this and what we were about to embark on was love itself, etc. Pretty much anything to get around her negative emotions and get her back in the mood, and never mind her boyfriend whom she loved, his name didn’t come up once. Retrospectively, I find it quite funny how beta I acted as the crescendo of the night was in progress, statements like, “omg ur so bewtiful” and “i’m so lucky 2 b here wit u”… The heat of the moment I guess. Now, this was an unplanned adventure so it was raw. Later it got rough, but it was all certainly raw. And had there been a condom in sight, I still probably wouldn’t have used one, but having learned mid fuck that this girl was into EVERYTHING, I wish I had had a condom to explore her rectum with my hardware.

We undressed each other and these motions of pre-programmed human-ness took over. I don’t want this to sound clinical or overly nerdy, but it felt like two machines were interfacing with each other to perpetuate the operation of a greater task, it was awesome. We started at around 4 am and I felt like I was in a porno, we did everything; missionary, her on top/grinding down hard, cowgirl, doggy, sideways, lotus… My mission objective once shit was starting was to get her to cum which was on a psychological level very important for me. A few months ago I watched a how to video on youtube and the girl advised the digital insertion the index and middle fingers with a “come-hither” motion. I think I felt her g-spot and I focused on massaging her insides with that lump as the base of operations. Again, through observation of my subject, I can only conclude I was successful in my endeavours; she kept rolling her eyes into the back of her head, she was biting the skin on her upper arms, her torso and legs were convulsing… Shit was cash. Between her uncontrolled movements and bodily shudders, she looked up at me as perplexed as a betrayed friend and said, “how the fuck is this your first time?” I didn’t bother answering but I can only say it had something to do with watching lots of porn, reading parts of e-books that deal with this subject and actually caring for her sexual needs instead of getting hasty and just sticking it in. I did want it to be a little special after all.

I ate her out and she tasted of lemons and limes (she said it was because of her diet), she sucked my dick and I realised I am extremely ticklish around my upper leg area, she left scratches on my back that led to some high-fives in a steam room at my local pool when the question was raised. After I missionary’d her for a while, she took out her dildo (not sure if I was being inexperienced with her goods or if she wanted double penetration, but I watched her operate on herself which was quite a visual experience. At one point when I was giving it to her from behind I spanked her and she managed to say, “*moaning* ooohhhhhh, oh, oh, oh… oh baby, c’mon, you can hit harder than that, C’MON! *moaning*”. When I had her on top grinding down on me, she put her hands around my throat and started to choke me, and then she realised what she was doing and apologised. I would have laughed but I was too in awe of the hilarity of the moment. At another point I told her I wanted to try a porno move on her (throat-fuck) so she lay on the bed with her head hanging off the side and I docked my shuttle with the international space station. The best part was when I pulled out and that throaty mucus was dripping off my dick. Towards the end of our romp, I still hadn’t cum, not from lack of trying mind you. I have this dangerous desire to fuck a woman in the hopes of getting her pregnant and never seeing her ever again, only to be confronted with my bastard years and years later in an angry, violent confrontation. First world problems I guess. Anyway, I would have blasted inside of her with even greater recklessness as I had discovered a foreign object inside her which she told me was a Mirena, an IUD that provides 99.91% protection from conception. She also told me not to fuck around with it because it cost her $7,000 to buy and have it inserted. Back to me, I’m done with her and I was jacking myself as furiously as possible because I really really really (obviously) wanted to at least cum on her on in her mouth or pussy… I had actually tired myself out. At this point in the morning with the first rays of the sun lighting up the sky, we were both dry; inside and out, tired and sleepy. She tried sucking and jacking me off, and I would get close to climax, but it was like trying to start a car with engine problems. My legs were shuddering in a way that doctors would probably describe as exhaustion due to extreme physical exertion. My kingdom for temporary pre-mature ejaculation… Anyway, we cleaned up, got dressed kissed goodbye and she walked me to my car. Just as I got outside the gate, I turned towards her, placed my left hand on the small of her back and right hand down the front of her jeans with my fingers back inside of her. I took my fingers out after a few pokes that made her roll her eyes back (again), put my fingers in her mouth and she sucked them clean. I kissed her goodbye.

A phone call some hours later and she told me she had been too tired to go to work and had got in trouble from her boss AND that she felt extremely guilty for what had happened because she loves her boyfriend.

Although I didn’t get to deploy my weapon’s payload, it felt like a complete victory for a first time combatant (kind of like the snipers from the movie ‘Jarhead’).

As I got in my car to drive home, I checked my phone…
At 6:25 am Jane Stevenson texted me: Ahhh! I was one of those awful drunk friends…sorry! We’ll have to catch up again when I’m not being retarded
“Catch up” indeed.

Post-script

Having read the recent CH article ‘Hot Girl Crazy’, I can confidently say that Samantha lives in this bubble others have constructed for her. She says this about herself, “I’m a confident girl and I was so sure of my self I felt I had to step out of my comfort zone to find some insecurity to secure”. She lives a very good and easy life (the top 0.00001 percentile in my opinion); she resides in one of the most executive suburbs in my city, drives an expensive European SUV, has her apartment serviced daily (cleaning lady, refrigerator is restocked, etc) and this is all paid for by her employer. She is the most glorified nanny I can think of. Fran Drescher’s ‘Nanny’ character doesn’t even come close.

******

“M”‘s story sounds plausible. A man’s first time is never as smooth as he imagines it will be. Halting beta missteps peppered with brilliant flashes of accidental alpha attitude typically characterize the virgin’s introduction to the world of vagina. There were some truly cringeworthy beta moments in his recollection, but on the whole his strategy was sound: he kept up the physical and emotional escalation while deftly handling the logistics. And he never let the AMOG blowout of his oneitis suck the life out of him like it does for so many recovering betas in similar scenarios; his mood remained engaged and his attitude positive.

I do think this young ex-Mormon, having now tasted the fruit of the tree of knowledge of poon and pickup, will awaken to a world of wonders, and will probably get married a lot later in life than his religious brethren who stayed in the fold. And he will never look back.

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Donation Nation

Supposedly, it’s protocol for internet content providers (ha!) to rattle the tin cup twice per year. So here we are. Donate here, or (more easily) use the donate button to the right on the main page, just under the blog banner heading.

Have you learned from this castlemonium deluxe? Have you been treated with the requisite haughtiness? Has your psyche been vigorously penetrated? Most importantly, has this stone-front, gated internet retreat nestled deep in the misty meadows of medieval France gotten you laid with the women of your choice?

If so, show your appreciation!

If not, fuck you.

In the meantime, here is what the future holds for Le Chateau Sensuality:

1. A book (or two!). (Pending defeat of personal laziness demons.)

2. In-field stuff. (Might include guest spots.)

3. More reviews of game material. (There’s a pile of ebooks and manuals to read laying disconsolately on the sofa, currently being sniffed by an overfed dog.)

4. More movie scenes of game in action.

5. More real-life stories. (Expect calculated timeline distortion and detail restructuring to misdirect the haters.)

6. More science. (Sorry, it’s a CH favorite.)

7. Fewer adjectives. (Yeah, we’ve heard you.)

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