My Visit to Moonlite Bunny Ranch | Carson City, NV
Moonlite Bunny Ranch | Carson City, NV
As regular readers of The New Modern Man know, I spend most of my time in a sunny, libertine paradise on the island of Hispaniola in the Caribbean. I’m happy here, and try to make return visits to the nation I ran away from infrequent. However, I do return to The Matrix once in a while, and it’s long been a goal of mine to visit the Moonlite Bunny Ranch just outside Reno/Carson City, Nevada.
I just got a chance to visit recently, and I must say I think there should be a whorehouse just like this one in every city in the country. Having these would alleviate a lot of sexual tension that’s making Beta male provider modules in the sexually repressed Anglosphere miserable, and it would also reduce the price women can command when they predate men for money and resources. In other words, men might not be willing to be enslaved by a bitch when they can go rent a good time with a willing girl.
If nothing else, visiting the Moonlite Bunny Ranch is also an affirmation of my beliefs that sexual barter, and by extension, prostitution is the true foundation of all exchange between the sexes. No matter how many pleasantries we imagine surround relationships and marriage, women don’t fuck men they can’t get something out of as stated by the oft-quoted Briffault’s Law:
The female, not the male, determines all the conditions of the animal family. Where the female can derive no benefit from association with the male, no such association takes place.
So those guys who say they’d never pay for sex are paying for it somehow. Either through supporting his girl’s materialistic lifestyle, paying for dates, or spending valuable hours of his life gaming her. There is no free lunch when it comes to sex.
Briffault’s Law proves sexual barter for male money, status, and power is hardwired into the female psyche, and that paying for it up front rather than “financing” it with relationships and marriage then suffering a massive “balloon payment” at the end is the best choice for the modern man in America. This is especially true with the institution of the frivorce rape and child support slavery schemes currently plaguing the land.
I believe prostitution (already the oldest human profession and one that is never going away) absolutely should be legal nationwide for two consenting adults in a society that has abandoned sexual mores that build up a society rather than those that tear it down. Nevada is the only state in The Matrix to realize criminalizing normal sexual behavior and demonizing Johns isn’t very productive.
Ok, now that we have the background and rationale aside, how was the experience?
After passing “Speed Limit 69” signs on the way into the compound and parking, the first thing a man notices is an inviting exterior and an iron gate surrounding the brothel. There is signage which says to ring the bell. I rung it 2 or 3 times since it took a moment for someone to respond and it was a cold, snowy Nevada night. Then out pops a young man who welcomes me to the Ranch and buzzes me in the gate.
I later learned they have the gate to keep out wives and girlfriends who aren’t sexually satisfying their husbands or boyfriends. It’s so nice to realize that in Nevada, at least, men have sex available at anytime and don’t have to tolerate frigid Anglo women.
I walk in, the host rings a bell and instructs all the girls to come down to the lobby to do a lineup. About a dozen or so women, ranging from SMV 5 to SMV 8 walk down and introduce themselves to me. Ah, for once in a man’s life he gets to do the choosing. How awesome is that?
I choose a pretty girl who was beaming with a pretty smile from the moment we made eye contact, let the other ones go back to their rooms and she proceeds to show me around the premises. I spend maybe $50 on shots and other drinks as I get to know this girl. Drink prices are actually pretty reasonable as I drank a lot with her.
Here’s what was most surprising about the evening. She was a genuinely classy and interesting girl to talk to. It’s amazing that I found this prostitute to be more interesting and engaging to talk to and spend time with than 90% of American women I meet. She didn’t hate me for having normal sexual desire. She didn’t judge me. And yes, we talked about several topics other than sex.
Look, I’m no chump and I realize much of the pleasant conversation is an act on her part, but as we both start getting liquored up I can tell my charm is working on her and she really warms up to me. I’m having a great time already. We down a few Patron shots and a few Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey shots and I immediately know this will be a night to remember.
The Bunny Ranch calls the hookup a party.
Obviously, I wanted to do this chick since I picked her out from the line-up of girls. After an hour or so of talking and drinking, I agree to let her show me her room. We enjoy some nice pillow talk and some cuddling, and she asks me what I want to do. I tell her I want a GFE (girlfriend experience) and she responds she does anything except anal, to which I responded “No problem!” because I want pussy. I’ve never been a fan of anal.
I had to do some negotiating to get her down to a $200 fee, which I felt was more than reasonable because in my Beta days I would spend more money than that on dates with women and get nothing but a hard time out of them while some other guy came over and fucked them. Nice guys finish last, never forget that.
I almost never pay for sex but I knew that was the nature of the business I was entering, and I wanted to patronize a cause I fully support – legalized prostitution. Plus, that price included a cozy bedroom and by this time it was clear this girl was going to take her time with me and show me a really good time. She wasn’t just going to take my money and leave me with a case of blue balls or rush me.
I really enjoyed the interaction with her, a rarity when it comes to the hateful women of Anglo America. I will give readers one word of advice: Guys, if you are going to bang a chick in a whorehouse you still have to do some screening because there are women who will take your money and leave you sexually frustrated. Most often that won’t be the case, but don’t be a chump.
We head back to her room and she undresses for me. Out come two beautiful breasts, a nice ass, and a flat stomach. Again, rarities in Anglo America. We make out for a few minutes then she tells me to get on the bed. Condoms are required by Nevada law, so she puts one on me. She proceeds to give me an awesome oral delight, and then we enjoy several positions fucking on her noisy bed. All the while, she’s telling me “Fuck me harder…” so I proceed to do just that. Apparently, she likes it rough. So do I. I look over the left to see a mirrored wall and can’t help notice how good we look together, coupled and at that particular moment, in the missionary position.
We finish up, and I am feeling great. She did not rush me, and made my satisfaction her priority. This girl had a great body, she was good in bed, and her personality really made the “party” worth the price. After looking at some photos on her cell phone and talking with each other for another half hour or so, we return to the lobby, smoke a couple of cigarettes, exchange numbers…and I kissed her good night.
This unique experience, my first time in an American whorehouse was about like every other sexual relationship I have had, except it was more convenient for me with no baggage to deal with afterwards. A few questions occur to me.
Why is this normal human interaction so vilified in America? Why are Johns having their lives destroyed and livelihoods taken away after the police state slaps them with criminal records, making it hard for them to get a job for simply renting a girl to bust a nut with? Why are Johns being shamed for wanting sex in a society in which women give them nothing but contempt and loneliness for their hard work? Is sex really that sacred? Is maintaining women’s power over men an objective of oppressive sex laws?
My experience with a legal prostitute at Moonlite Bunny Ranch seemed so normal and natural, two consenting adults enjoying each other for mutual pleasure. I enjoyed the sex and she enjoyed getting the money. Why is it okay for the media to use sex to sell product but it’s evil for men to pay for actual sex?
I find it amazing that sex has become such taboo in a society that considers itself to be sexually liberated, “progressive” and enlightened. At least there’s one place in the States (and about three dozen other brothels in Nevada) where that Puritanical attitude is not the case. As stated above, there was no difference in this and the well over 100 other sexual relationships I’ve had except in this case, a token exchange of money was involved.
In short, a man owes it to himself to experience this place, if nothing else to see the criminalization of sex in America is absolutely insane. Moonlite Bunny Ranch is highly recommended by Relampago.
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