I am in Japan. I just finished another “very long date.” Three days this time. With the girl that was a virgin until this February (when I cured her of that problem). She is Chinese, but living in Tokyo. She flew into the city where I am now… for a three day weekend with me. It was good, in many ways. But also complicated – mostly related to the sex. And that is what I want to write about in this story of a girl, her relationship to her body, and my weekend navigating her lack of sexual experience.
Last February I picked her up in Tokyo. She wears the kind of round, nerdy glasses that so many Chinese girls wear. I love that look. I see those girls in my hometown in California. I saw them when I was doing daygame in Shanghai. And when I spotted this girl on a sunny afternoon in Tokyo, it’s was natural to want to approach her.
“You look, so cute, in those glasses.”
I called her Miss Compliant at the time. It’s ironic now, giving all the “no’s” in this story… but she was compliant when I first picked her up. She was available when I wanted to see her. She was accommodating. She agreed with anything I wanted to do.
She was 27 when I met her, and, like I said… a virgin. She had fooled around a bit (before me), but very little. As I pushed her sexual boundaries in those early dates, it became clear to me how disconnect she was from her body. I saw that in her (and also in another girl) on that trip. Seeing her so disinterested in her body was a big reference experience for me. She is a “thinker” that pays almost no attention to anything below her shoulders… that made it a little hard to turn her on.
Saying that another way:
I have a theory that you can assess a girl by the amount of her “attention” (or whatever you want to call it) that goes into thinking (her head), feeling (her heart), or the physical (her body).
Miss Compliant is a very, very smart girl. I love that about her. But she puts almost 100% of her attention into her mind (she is all head). She is not particularly emotional (heart). And I believe she really has almost zero sexual appetite (very little connection to her body).
It’s not that she cannot appreciate sex (we’ll see that she can), but it has never been a focus for her. Never. This is how she retained her virginity as long as she did.
I like to role play classical masculine/feminine archetypes with girls. With Miss Thick I was The Wolf. With Miss Bangs I have been The Beast. With this girl, I have been “Kaibutsu” – which is one word for Monster in Japanese. These roles are set up to align with ideas of strength, power, aggressiveness, and sexuality.
It is as The Monster that I consistently expose her to my sexuality. She also calls me Strong Man. Or Bad Man. I am bad, mean, nasty, terrible, sexual, and hungry. In contrast, she is smart, sweet, small, lovely and helpless against my advances. It’s an old story… and a hot one. We fit our roles well.
Over text I would say nice things about her (pull), and then balance with some egoic “cad behavior,” some Monster talk, some overt threats of sexuality (push). She took it well.
Travelling to see a girl (or bringing her to you) presents a kind of an investment with some risk… things can go wrong. As a man is considering investing his time and resources toward a sexual adventure with a girl, he should probably make damn sure that that sex is clearly on the agenda before commitments are made. As I moved to set up a very long date with her while I was in Japan this month, I used some “Bad Man” sexuality via text to set up that vibe.
She took it well. It felt good. I was excited to see her.
She arrived on Friday. And she looked… fucking amazing.
I originally picked her up on a near-freezing afternoon, as she was wearing a big, down coat. I have had her naked several times, so it wasn’t a complete shock, but…
Seeing her this time in little white shorts and a yellow t-shirt, I literally blurted out “wow.” Her hair was a bit longer this time, very healthy. Clear skin. A great smile. And the nerdy glasses were a bonus. She was happy to see me.
I had most of the weekend mapped out. Dinners. A few small adventures. And a rough idea for how I could move the sex along. And not just the sex, but some “deep sex” (another favorite theme of mine) – where “deep” is about the emotions. About fucking her in way that goes beyond the purely physical.
When I took her virginity in Tokyo this last Winter, it took several dates to get her that far. The first time I got my cock in her she practically screamed. And she got mad. It had been a very physical struggle. This is where the “no’s” begin. She is compliant… but she defends her soft, little body quite well. On the one hand, I was a shameless Monster on every occasion. She knew perfectly well what to expect, and she accepted date after date knowing I would escalate each time as much as she could handle. On the other hand, she would say “no” a lot. And physically fight me off. She would never really give herself to me. In part, as the pleasure of it (at least in her mind) had little rational appeal to her then.
Yeah. So that first time I got my cock in her, she forced me off. And she sat up. And she was mad – or appeared to be. And she shoved at me. And she cried a little. And she said she would leave. It was dramatic. But I handled all that very well, at the time. I held my ground. I consoled her, but never apologized. I cared for her, I wanted her to have a good experience, but an experience with me would include me fucking her.
If this had all happened on one night, no way I would have pushed her that far. If she was the kind of girl that was capable of surrender, I wouldn’t need to. But she is special in this way.
That particular morning (it was a morning when her cherry was first pierced) ended beautifully. She calmed down. We had a slow lunch together. She laughed. We made out in an alley as I walked her back to the train. She was into me, at least as much as before.
This is what she is like sexually – complicated.
A day or so after she felt her first penetration I had her back in my apartment in Tokyo. She was sexually detached again. I warmed her up as much as I could. I ate her pussy (as always). And I worked my cock back inside her again. It’s was not easy. Physically, she is tiny. And she resists. Not a solid no, but still half-pushing me back. Extending her legs to make it impossible to really drive into her. I would tell her to relax. To pull her legs back, and the look in her eyes would show she was actually trying… but this is all difficult for her. And I would get inside and inch or two, and she’d tense up, and push me back out.
I didn’t consider the first time I had her as a “notch.” I really had just the one stroke before she erupted in anger.
That second time, at night, I was in her half a dozen times. I was deep enough to enjoy it, but never buried to the hilt. It was sex. It was a notch.
She was mine. It was hot… but it wasn’t complete. And it wasn’t “deep” sex at all.
As this post is all about the intersection of her psychology and her sexuality, I’ll say a bit more:
She comes alive when she is jerking me off… in a way I have ever seen before. She loves it. It’s a completely different side of her. She is a wonder in that role. I like a good handjob more than any guy I’ve ever met, but even so… it’s a side dish, not the main course. But for her, I think it’s about a kind of control.
In her particular case, I think when she is jerking me off she can say “yes” sexually, as she does it from a place of control and power. Not “controlling,” but “in control.” When I please her, when I go down on her, when she receives… she is “out of control.” And she can’t relax into “yes” until the pleasure I force upon her pushes her over-worked mind out of the way.
Once she has experienced enough pleasure, her mind relents and her body finally gets to enjoy the ride. Until then, her mind is an obstacle. She works, via her intellect, to hold onto “control” – not of me, but – of herself.
That is one of many theories I have about this girl.
So on the first night of this trip we ran some errands together and took a cab uptown to drop her suitcase in my very nice little apartment. I kissed her a bit. I pawed at her. And then we cleaned up and took the subway back downtown for dinner. We walked around a bit after. And then home. And she wanted to shower, and we did. I made her let me undress her, and she fought at me, as always… but she looked amazing naked.
I got her into bed… and she was lovely. Such a good looking girl. All those contours of creamy skin. Her big, soft, beautiful lips are amazing.
One of the ways she says “no” is when she locks those lips up and fails to let them relax as I kiss her. Before she is properly warmed up, she will make them stiff and unlovable.
I would use masculinity and the Monster’s touch to force her past that. I’d verbally tell her, “relax your lips,” and she would. Her mouth would become accessible and peach-like in its juiciness. She is actually a fantastic kisser… when I force her to become one. I’d say, “give me your tongue” and she would.
I told my wing Sundance I do this kind of thing and he said something about me being soft in some aspects of seduction, but a bull in those moments. He said something like that… and perhaps that is true. And that ability seemed to be required to unlock this particular girl.
I ate her pussy. And her beautiful little ass. And while she seemed to be an almost reluctant participant, the wetness of that tiny pussy told a different story.
There is an idea that if a girl isn’t chomping after you, if she isn’t enthusiastically running towards sex… she isn’t into you, you have no value, or you’re running bad game. And that may be true some of the time. Maybe some other guy could bring Miss Compliant into that frame… but I don’t think so.
If I had waited for her to show desire, I never would have seen it. If I had failed to escalate until I saw she was hot… she’d still be a virgin. Some girls are like this.
I want to be crystal clear… I am NOT suggesting men should have to “push past resistance.” For moral reasons alone, you should not . And beyond that, as Yohami points out – that is the trademark of Bottom Guy. I agree. But Yohami doesn’t fuck girls like this one. And she is a Type. This story explores a Type of girl like her.
So… I ate that pussy. And she took it so much better than earlier this year. I don’t know if she came. But she squirmed. And made beautiful noises. And I kept it up for a long while. Several rounds of some kind of climax, a rest, and then more. And then… I wanted to fuck her.
I got a condom. I climbed up between her creamy thighs. As I got hard and she had a resistant look on her face again. What to make of that? Is that a real “no?” I rubbed my cock against her clit and she winced. It looked like pain. I pressed it further. She said it hurt… that my facial hair had irritated her. It looked very convincing.
She said she wanted to jerk me off. I thought about it, took in that pained look on her face… and I agreed. As she had “control” she transformed into that kinky, happy side of herself. And she used two hands and rubbed me down until I exploded. She smiled and purred. She loved it.
It was hot. It was a great orgasm. But it was also almost entirely physical. A good orgasm… but it wasn’t “sex.” It wasn’t her and I “together.” It wasn’t connected at all.
“‘Sexual desire as a ‘desire for sex,’ and sex as a matter of ‘pleasurable of sensations.” This picture of sex, is already a demoralized picture. It is a picture which makes the personal nature of the object irrelevant to the desire.”
— Roger Scruton
Roger is an old man, very conservative, and a prude. But the quote here is taken from a talk that, from my point of view as a seducer of women, fascinates me. I am a skirt chaser and a philanderer. But sexual speaking, I am after more than just “junk calories.” The object of my desire is entirely relevant. So is the mutual, shared dance of a rich, sexual experience. I want a breadth of sexual experiences. But I want them to be deep, and personal, and emotional as well.
This wasn’t what I wanted.
And so the first night passed without her really “opening” to me at all.
The next day, before we left on the day’s adventure, I pushed her onto the bed. And I made out with her. And she took the kissing at something like a level of “lukewarm” passion.
It was still hot. When she isn’t a full, “bounding yes” I have to be forceful and dominant to move us along… which I like. I am required to be dominant and to dominate her feels good. And I got turned on, pressing my cock against her. And I started to pull her little shorts off. I hadn’t planned on fucking her, but I was about to. And she was a big “no.” “Not now.” “It’s light out.” “Later.” She had a thousand reasons. It felt like testing.
I talked with her about surrender. It was a kind of lecture. I talked with her about her fondness for “no.” I told her it was hot to force her. But it also made my role as a man more dangerous. I told her that I realized that the only reason she wasn’t a virgin anymore, was that I was willing to (with much consideration and care) force her that time in Tokyo. In that specific instance, that was okay with me (morally), as I had established a pattern of showing her what she should expect, escalating each time. And through all that, she kept coming back to me, date after date… right up to the point of her first penetration.
She give me very little feedback as I gave her this talk… but with regard to me needing to “force her”… she’d agreed… and smiled a little.
She knows the only reason she is not a virgin anymore is because I took it from her. This is who she is, at this point of her life, sexually.
“Do you need violence,” I asked her? “Is that what it takes for you?” I was testing her here (and myself, as well). I could be violent with her, for her, in the context of being her lover… if that is what it took to unlock her emotions and that guarded space between her legs.
If you recall, I made her mad when I first put my cock in her. Very mad. But she recovered so quickly and thoroughly. It was a bonding experience. Maybe she likes mad? Maybe she likes violence?
I don’t think she is “broken” at all. I don’t think this is her recasting some kind of abuse from earlier in her life… I just think… she is complicated.
“Do you need me to make you mad to bring you deeper into sex?” She didn’t answer me. She is strong willed, but she doesn’t know what she wants. This whole experiment was up to me.
I held her down and I was very rough. I forced my tongue into her mouth. She said she’d had enough, but I was testing her. I had her pinned and I could use my free hand to grope her. I continued until she was mad and then I stopped. She told me to get off her, but I didn’t.
I just gave her some room and continued to hold her in place. I stared into her eyes. I was dominant, but with a lot of care. I told her she was alright… and she fumed a bit… and I caressed her… and it was moving back to a loving place again. And in a few minutes… she was fine. 100%. She went from having her wrists pinned down to the sheets to holding my hand in about three minutes. She left the anger and became the “student” again, listening to my questions and my analysis of who she is and what I think she needs…
But I don’t really know. I am getting closer, but I am still experimenting and guessing. With her. And with all these girls.
Game is an art, not a science.
This blog contains so much of what I DO know… but nothing like the story of this girl. She is a special case. This is why I am writing this post… to document a special case. To go past, “she gave me LMR, but then I fucked her.” There is always more than that.
We had a long adventure that day and it was great. We tease each other a lot. She likes me. We are compatible and it’s easy to spend time with her.
We returned home. Rested. Showered. Went to a really great dinner. And then back home again. I assumed I would fuck her…
I was wrong.
We came home and did our own thing for a while. And she sat on the couch next to me. It was getting late. I dragged her to bed. She was lukewarm, as usual… which obviously doesn’t intimidate me. I know this about her. As I turned up the heat, she complained, she said no, she squirmed, and I pressed on.
And then she said she needed another shower. And that was bullshit. I told her not to be a brat. I told her we could “play games” but I want us on the same team. She made that tight, resisting face and I rolled off.
“Okay. Go. But then come back here and give yourself to me.”
I felt fighty. Being serious and dominant with her is likely right on course, but “fighting energy” wasn’t the answer and I knew it. It’s never the answer.
There is some established knowledge in Seduction that a woman will test you, push you emotionally, and then dismiss you if you show you can’t handle her… and handle her well.
“She will make you lose your cool in some way – having you feel guilty over some irrelevant subject, nagging about everything, offending you – so that you will do something stupid like shout, beat her, or feel desperate and depressed. After that, she’ll have a reason to justify her behavior – to cheat on you, leave you.”
Some of how she presented herself that night was real. And some of this was testing me. And I felt the consequences of those tests in the air.
“…then you’re ‘not the man she was expecting’ and suddenly the rules change and the whole thing realigns, and you get a harder puzzle, and less attraction.”
When Yohami says “a harder puzzle,” you can think of that as a test. So when you fail a test (you go “beta,” you get pissed off, whatever), you get a harder test, and so on, until you break through or… she cuts you off entirely.
I felt that potential in the air and in my body. I put on some music. I worked on my own vibe while she was in the bathroom. I got control of my state.
I was staring at the ceiling when she came back to bed. I was a little serious, but cooler. She dropped her towel and put her flawless little body into bed next to me. I looked at her… she was gorgeous to my eyes. She wasn’t turned on. She wasn’t seducing me. She wasn’t sexy, but she was (in a nerdy way) very beautiful. And that beauty was what inspired me to go forward after all the pushback and bullshit from her. And I did.
And after me dominating her some more… she was wet and marvelous again. The contrast between the tests of her facial expressions and the honest moisture of her pussy was night and day.
I climbed up between her thighs again… and again… that pained face. Even if it was a “test,” it was terribly authentic to look at. It was a “no.” And she wasn’t using words, but it was very convincingly a “no.”
She complained of her stomach this time. And she does have a weak stomach… but regardless… it was a tax on me in this moment, as you might imagine.
And I’m sure part of it was a test as well.
I could have fucked her. I could have forced her to take my cock. And it’s very possible she would have enjoyed it if I had… but there was no joy in it for me at this point.
“Proceeding rightly, we can find fulfillment, but proceeding wrongly, we risk destruction.”
— Roger Scruton
And I wouldn’t force it this time. I knew I wouldn’t be happy if I did. I could have fucked her… and I wasn’t worried about “destroying” her in that moment. If I had fucked her then, mostly against her will, the “destruction” would have been that I compromised my own values.
So… I changed gears so fast, I am sure it surprised her.
I rolled off and nudged her to one side of the bed. And I pulled the blankets up around her (to make sure she was warm). And I tucked her in, shielding her little body from the harshness of the cold, air-conditioned air.
I wasn’t happy (not at all). But I really wasn’t mad. She was irritating me. She is a “difficult student.” But I have enough experience to know that sex in that moment would have been joyless. It would have been “dumping a come” into her. She may be a pain in the ass (and she clearly is, in this particular way), but I know I can take better care of her than that.
I didn’t fuck her in that moment because it wouldn’t have been good for me. I don’t just want sex… I want sexy. I have more respect for myself than to rip some dry sex out of a lifeless experience. No thanks.
So, I wrapped her up in the blanket. I put on a movie on. I climbed into bed next to her. I was affectionate, but in a cool way. None of it was a “technique” or an “act.” I was done with it all for the night. I removed my attention.
And she felt it. And as I “leaned back” I could feel her “lean in” to fill the space. And I drifted toward sleep as the movie played. And she was at least as affectionate as usual – maybe more so.
And I woke up a bit later, and rolled over to look at her as she watched the screen… and the light from the monitor gave a glow to her prefect skin. I grabbed her and kissed her… and her mouth was wet and wonderful. There was a bit of passion, but it wasn’t on…
Another night had ended with “no.”
She slept close all night. And I think the small measure of coldness I showed – which was not a punishment, but was genuine – gave her something new. A sprinkle of emotional violence. I wasn’t mad. She wasn’t in trouble. But I had let her know she was near the end of her leash.
In the morning, she always wakes up earlier than me. And this, our second morning of the trip, she was clean and sparkly and happy, as she read a book next to me in the bed while I slept.
When I was ready to get up… I did. And she stayed in bed. I took a leak. I drank some water. I got a piece of fruit and shared it in bed with her. And I kissed her, and she took it. And she was more smiley. Not passionate, but softer… and happier. And I sucked her mouth and slid my hands up her smooth belly under her shirt to her small little boobs. And down her light shorts, to play with her ass, and with her pussy… and she was wet.
I pulled her to her to the edge of the bed… and licked at her until she moaned and tosses in the sheets. And then… once again… I moved between her thighs.
As I ripped open the package of the world best condom her face tightened. It was less tight, but it still looked like a “no.” And she suggested she rub me out again. Then her offer changed to sucking me off. But I stared her down. And I advance into her territory. And the condom was on. And I was hard and ready for her. And I started the process of actually getting my cock in her tiny pussy once again.
And it wasn’t easy.
Just like the first time… it took so many stops and starts. She was pushing back, tightening her pretty thighs, making it difficult… but I would tell her what I wanted:
“Pull your legs back.” And she would. And her face showed she genuinely wanted to. When I get this far, she always looks like she wants to, but her body wouldn’t let it happen. I was maybe half way in. And I’d say it again, “pull your legs back to your chest.” I’d force them back and she’d try to help. And I’d say, “take it, take my cock,” and I could see her try harder. Her mind was almost open… so her body was more able to follow.
Finally… I was in. Not just a bit… but all the way… for the first time… for her first time, ever.
And you should have seen her face. I’ll never forget it.
Her eyes popped open. She gasped. I’m not a woman (thank the Gods), but I imagine that being filled up is different than just being “mostly penetrated.” And I had finally filled her completely. She was passionate. Suddenly. She had her arms around my neck. She was kissing me in a way she never had before… And I was fucking her.
I had finally fucked this girl wide open.
And she started to shake. Tremble and shake. And she tried to stop. “I’m shaking!,” she said, with alarm. I know, I said. “And you look wonderful.” And her legs would try to extend again… and I’d tell her, “take it,” and she would. I’d push back in and her eyes would flood with energy. I fucked her. And we kissed. And she shook. And we stared into each other’s eyes. And it was finally “deep.” Not just physically, but emotionally. Once I had finally taken her… she was really giving herself to me.
She lost her virginity in February. But in September, she was finally really fucked for the first time. And it was beautiful to see. It was amazing. It was… worth it. Jesus.
“It’s just like horses, you gotta break ’em. In other words, you gotta break the girl, and tame her. Then you can be nice and do nice stuff.”
After I came inside her, we stared into each other’s eyes until I grew soft again. And I pulled out, and laid next to her. And we talked. And she was still lit up. And she was a “better student” as I continued my lecture of what we had done, and what I had seen in her, and what she had quite obviously felt. And it was great. And she was learning. About sex. And about her body.
That body was finally unlocking. Finally knowing why all the rest of us are interested in sex. Amazing.
What a ridiculous experience.
And that is what all this is for me. It’s about her. I do like this girl. And it’s about her and I. We are lovers. Not exactly the best of lovers, but I do what I can… given the nature of each of us. And this is about experience. And about reference experiences.
I gained a million new, subtle, special, reference experiences from my times with this girl. I am trying to share them here.
I sometimes think of Seduction like the training for a truly great “doctor.” The most common “ailments,” the most common conditions, are seen most often, and that kind of knowledge comes easy… the lessons are “cheap,” and “common,” in a way.
But what happens when something rare comes up? When something mysterious comes along? When something difficult and elusive is presented and needs a “cure?” Often, we fail in those moments. Even very “good doctors” do. But when we are curious, and when we work at it, when we take our time, when we explore the situation (“and swing our dicks”), sometimes we see something in a case that suddenly makes sense. One clue leads to another. Maybe we fail again, but we’re closer. And over time, we find answers to difficult questions.
That is real experience. Those are “expensive” lessons. That is uncommon knowledge.
I lay all this out with such detail, as she is a special case. No one has taught me how to deal with moments like this one. Force is not enough. Patience alone would have surely failed. It was more than all of that.
I take lessons from the Locker Room, about dominance, leadership and certainty. I take lessons from Psychology, about reading her, about the pace of “sexual learning” and comfort in a girl. I take lessons from Emotional Tools (what I used to call “Hippy Tech”), about how to “open her,” to go past her body (Locker Room), her head (Psychology) and into her heart (the emotions of it all). And from there…
I am on my own in situations like this.
As we learn about game.. eventually… it’s just us… alone with the girl… “in the dark.”
I fucked her again that night. I wasn’t particular horny, but I wanted to finish off the experience of the weekend… to make it complete. It wasn’t as breathtaking as that morning… but it was again, very good. She resisted, but not as much. And when I split her open, she went “wide” and “deep” for me again. And her eyes were electric once more. And her mouth was hungry.
She likes being fucked… and maybe now she finally understands what that means.
On our last morning together, we woke early and there as no time for more. I took her to break the fast with souffle pancakes. And I sent her home, back to Tokyo.
It’s been over 24 hours since she left. She is not my favorite lover, but I like her, very much… despite her being an endless test of my capabilities (and my will). Some of the frustration of the weekend has passed… I feel more generous now.
I messaged her today, to show her some love.
She playfully bit me at some point in the weekend. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but it left a little bruise near my collarbone…
I texted her to tease her about it.
NASH: You bit my shoulder
NASH: You left a BRUISE!
NASH: You abused me!!!
NASH: And I filled a report with the koban [Japanese for “police”]
NASH: This will go on your permanent record
This is how we talk to each other. Outside of sex, she is fun. And we laugh a lot. And tease each other. And play our roles of the little Virgin and the Kaibutsu.
HER: Do you think the police officer will believe that such a short, tiny, little girl…
HER: Abused a strong, dangerous Monster like you???
She is funny. And smart (most funny people are). She plays her role with relish.
NASH: Hmmmm, good point.
NASH: Or maybe you just distract me…
NASH: …when you notice all my very good qualities
Fader would be proud as he watched me frame her attack as a compliment.
HER: Your good qualities are: dangerous, bad, aggressive, violent, and hentai
She plays along. I continue:
NASH: Ahh… this is like poetry to me.
NASH: You like me so much.
NASH: I can tell by the sweet-sweet words you say to me
HER: Narcissistic, erotic
HER: You have so many good qualities
In response, I sent her a cocky gif of Trump celebrating… and all was well in the world.
I don’t know if I’ll see her again. I won’t be in Japan again for several months. I had a good time, but not a great time. I can see being willing to do it again… but not running towards it.
She is a smart, interesting, wonderful girl. She was a good companion, in many ways. She is fantastic to look at… her nerdiness is part of that for me. And she really surprised me when she finally blossomed – as getting fucked blew her heart and her body wide open. Magnificent.
I don’t know. But it was another very interesting ride. It wasn’t easy. But it was another great experience.