Home > General > Accidental greatness from my former chode life, part 1.

Accidental greatness from my former chode life, part 1.

Looking back on the life I’ve had up until I discovered game I have to admit that I cannot truly classify myself as a hardcore chode. In fact, my purestrain AFC readers will probably regard me as a class traitor when they discover that yes, I have had a few girlfriends, nearly all of them hot. I’ve had a few one night stands. Was I really an AFC? Oh yes, don’t worry. This all happened, upon reflection, somehow by accident. When I look back and analyze what happened I really don’t know how I managed not to sabotage myself. Despite these random, accidental successes I still avow that pre-game my actual skills and ability to intentionally attract women was zero. This gave me no options, which is the basic qualification of Betaness. Ontop of that my inner game was in a bad, bad place. Let’s just say my thoughts towards womenhood were not too chummy in general.

So… my prior AFC credentials intact I thought it would nevertheless prove interesting and fun to take a peek back at the

accidental shit I did which somehow resulted in success.

I have a few of these stories planned but tonight we’ll go over the first one:

The night I fucked my cousin’s 17 year old babysitter.

I was 24. I was an AFC. I had few options with women and had already started the troubling descent into mental illness, nervous breakdown and depression related to my fucked up life and inner game. I was doing a Masters I had no interest in at a University that I hated. I went home for Christmas and my cousin invited me to his annual New Year’s Eve fancy dress party. He and his wife and most of the guests were around 30. It was to be a boozy affair.

Me and my sister (21 at the time) got outfits from a shop. I remember being in a weird frame of mind. I picked out a Napoleonic soldier dress outfit and remember thinking I looked hot in it. I was in bloom. I was 24, full of spunk, healthy. The outfit would make gay men swoon… epaulettes you could rest sandwiches on and buttons so shiny magpies would weep. I remember getting dressed up and somehow, despite my awful chodeyness.. just forgetting my chodeyness and thinking “tonight I might pull”. Normally at that pathetic stage of my life every time before I went out I’d pathetically think “tonight might be the night I meet a girl and she becomes my girlfriend and I stop being single and become at peace”. Ugh…. I just threw up some of my dinner into my mouth. Somehow that night I think I must have had a brain embollism and burnt out the normal failure-feedback circuits, and just had a precious few hours before they re-routed themselves to believe it was true. I look back now and realise that that night (I still remember it well, for events which are upcoming) I actually did have a weird, completely out of place belief that I was going to pull, that it was a done deal.

We got to the party and it was pretty good natured, with that quiet hum of 30 something middle class people working really efficiently to get slaughtered out of their minds. My cousin introduced me to a group of people and one of them was his 17 year old babysitter. No.. not for him (that would be cool, though) but for his kids. She was hot. Long sandy hair, tight, tight, firm body, and wearing a big white, impressive Narnia-Ice Queen costume. I had already had a few drinks and felt a bit nervous. Somehow my social incompetence combined with nerves and came across as devastatingly off-hand Alphaness. I didn’t introduce myself to her. I negged her to her face and laughed at her, and my reality was so strong I pulled the rest of the group into it and they all started laughing as well. Out of sheer panic I took over the group conversation, unleashed my natural talent for humour and got everyone laughing. Babysitter adds a line in and I immediately neg the fuck out of her again and laugh at her.

I then feign boredom and stroll off to get a drink. She follows me and seems weirdly keen to talk to me. This is odd. We both enter another group, who are mainly female. I ignore her and make the other women laugh a lot, pausing only to stamp on the little plastic fake ice-crystals stiched to the bottom of her dress, laughing as they smash.

[Total elapsed time in her company:           5 minutes]

I ask her what she’s studying then crush her answers, then laugh at her, then make her laugh about something. I’m feeling very, very weird by this point. I think I definitely had some kind of brain embolism. She asks me if I want to make drinks for the party and I agree to help. We mix a big just full of assorted alcohol, producing a drink of incomparable potentcy. We pour it into little glasses and take it round the party together. We each drink some and feel a bit drunk. I neg her a bit more.

[Total elapsed time in her company:           c.30 minutes]

She starts to look uncomfortable and fidgety. She’s flushing. She keeps trying to move close to me. She whispers in my ear that I have to come to the back staircase as she wants to tell me something secret. We go to the staircase. She looks at me with a glazed, ill, waxy look and seizes me then rapes my face, I mean literally tries to deep throat me with her tongue. I fondle her a bit and enjoy myself. I’m sort of stunned now. She looks up at me and says:

“God, I bet you just knew you were going to get laid tonight before you even walked out of the house”

And her eyes are saying “it’s a done deal”. Chodiness starts to creep in and I start to protest that I honestly didn’t but she just gives a hollow laugh at my ‘obviously false’ denials, then takes my hand and leads me upstairs to the bedroom.

[Total elapsed time in her company:           c.45 minutes]

On the way the various 30 year old men in the party are looking at me like I AM THE NEW MESSIAH, RISEN FROM THE DEAD. I mean their mouths are hanging open. They have a little tear in their eyes. We disappear off up into my cousin’s kids bedroom. We start getting it on.

This girl is a major slut. I mean filthy. This girl is a 40 year old twice-married chain-smoking Geordie factory-working woman in the body of a 17 year old. I’m almost out of my league and the only way I can survive is not by any level of skill but just by being as perverted as I possibly can. I start eating her out vigorously. By now the drink is really hitting us both and we’re hammered as hell. To my dismay I do a surreptitious Wood-Check™ and discover the old man is as flaccid as Liza Minelli’s tit. I make up for this by eating her more vigorously than ever. Fingers come into play. In one particularly poignant moment I remember ramming my fingers so far up her arse that I felt the rounded end of a turd up there and didn’t know whether to be sickened or turned on.

It’s getting pretty nasty and debased in there and I hear some party goers outside in the corridor, giggling drunkenly…

A: “Ha ha.. let’s burst in on them”

B: “No! They’re really shagging you know”.

A: “Naa! Hee hee. They won’t be you know. Don’t be daft”

B: “Seriously. Come back. No! Don’t go in”.

The door bursts open and a drunk male, someone’s dad, stumbles in:

“Ha ha! Caught you you dirty fuckers… bet you thoug….”. He stops, mouth falls open, at the sight of a Napoleonic soldier, uniform hanging off, busy committing vile carnal acts on the Ice Queen of Narnia. His voice trails off. He looks glazed. He stumbles backwards, dazed, and wanders out of the room. The other one reaches him and closes the door. I can hear him:

B: “It’s all right mate. Calm down. They’re enjoying themselves”

A: (weepy, upset voice) “But… but… they… no clothes. no clothes.”.

Me and the Ice Queen get back to business. I can’t even remember it all except it was fucked up. I remember having very bad engine pressure issues but being so determined to actually get laid I physically used my fingers to stuff it into her. Ah well. Still counts. Whatever… it was great.

Eventually.. after committing one sex act so vile I cannot even describe it here, we tire, reassemble our attire and leave.

For the rest of the night I’m floating round on magic cloud. I’ve never felt so big and awesome and magical and all-powerful. I drift round the party like an ethereal being, emitting white beams of energy and light, casting my munificence on people as I pass. I feel like Jesus, like a rockstar, like the Pope. All the men in the party just look at me with eyes of jealousy, wonder and utter admiration. My cousin said later: “It was like you gave her one…  for all of us”. All the women in the party looked at me the way you’d look at a large, beautiful, tiger prowling among the guests. Supposedly tame, but maybe it just hasn’t felt like biting anyone yet. There I was, with absolute proven sexual proof. I was the majestic sex-eagle. I had swooped into their nest, stolen the prize chick, carried it back to my eyrie and FUCKED IT. Priceless. Absolutely priceless.

What did I learn from this night of all nights? Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. Squat. There was no awakening. I failed to deconstruct any part of what I’d done and why I’d had success. In fact I became more convinced than ever that success was due to just ‘luck’ and that night I’d simply been lucky. I went straight back to chodeness. If I had a time machine I wouldn’t go back and englighten my young chode-self, I’d give myself a bloody good kicking. Twat.

To me now, looking back on that night I see the accidental application of pure Mystery Method. She was a drunk bar slut with a big hole in her head and a big chip on her shoulder, and I game right in there. High social proof and high status. Using groups to magnify my attraction. Negging her to put her in her place. I’m sure you all can see what went down. What really freaks me out about that night, though, was my state of mind before the party. I remember how chodey and failure-obsessed I was in general at that time yet I specifically remember that for some unexplained reason on the day of the party I suddenly became certain with the knowledge that I would pull on that evening. I don’t know why, it just happened. Sometimes things like this make you think of Fate. All I know is that there have been one or two times in my life where a weird, unexplained, sense of certainty, of inevitability has settled over me with 100% congruence and after that point I have felt just like an actor acting out lines in a play and everything I have predicted has happened down to the T.

I can’t explain this. It just happened.. Probably the closest I can come to is this:

  1. My brain consisted of a conscious, failure-obsessed higher level controller with lots of lower level processes chugging away all the time thinking about stuff
  2. This produces endless failure and misery
  3. At some point some lower level, process sees a social setup approaching which may produce results
  4. As an evolutionary defence mechanism, this process intrudes on the controller and rewires it to temporarily absolute 100% belief in what will happen
  5. This visualisation is so utterly concrete that my actions are utterly congruent with it that it actually comes to pass. I am talking the congruence of the mad, I mean total belief. Just like an actor, like a puppet, waiting for the inevitable.
  6. I think this is a defence mechanism. The brain wants to survive. If it sees things going really bad… if it sees depression, failure, thoughts of suicide, etc approaching then I think there are internal processes, invisible, inner-brain processes which throw out random beliefs up to the conscious brain as a way to try and effect change on it and produce new results and break out of negative cycles.

Dunno. Go figure. Answers on a postcard. Anyhow the memory of that night has always been in a special place in my heart. I hope it will find a special place in yours, too.

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Categories: General
  1. June 3, 2010 at 12:04 am

    I’d rather you hadn’t mentioned the turd.

  2. Johnny
    June 3, 2010 at 12:57 am

    Fucking Awesome Story!!!

  3. Woodsmoke
    September 18, 2010 at 7:38 pm

    Thanks for finishing off my funk cycle for me. Fuckin-a.

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