Category Archives: Stories from the Road

My Visit to Moonlite Bunny Ranch | Carson City, NV


I don’t like to kiss and tell, but I can tell you the girl I spent some time with is featured in this recent Facebook photo from the Moonlite Bunny Ranch web site

Moonlite Bunny Ranch | Carson City, NV
Relampago’s Rating: Star16Star16Star16Star16Star16

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?


Sex is everywhere in America – the media uses it to sell product while at the same time villainizing those who actually buy it

Walking In

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.


A good time was had by all on this visit

Our “Party”

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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Stories from the Road: Visiting a White Girl Strip Club


My jarring experience in an American strip club, after spending over a year abroad

Daddy Rabbit’s, Paper Moon and Pure Pleasure | Richmond, VA
Relampago’s Rating: Star16StarBW16StarBW16StarBW16StarBW16

I’m back in The Matrix for a quick visit to family and friends before I return to my haven from Anglo American insanity in the Caribbean. I have some spare time on my hands, so I wander on down to a titty bar the other day in an East Coast city to kick back, relax, throw down a few Yuengling beers and watch some titties and ass bouncing around. You know, typical guy thing.

As usual, because my instincts are honed when it comes to having a good time, I head to the “bad part of town” because that’s where the best strip clubs usually are. I see black chicks walking around outside the stores and restaurants in this neighborhood, so I feel like I’m safe and I’ll be having a good time soon, just as I did days earlier when I stopped off on Downman Road in New Orleans. (If you haven’t had the black strip club experience, you need to.) I manage to end up in a strip club that has nothing but white chicks. It’s about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I think, fine, I’ll hang out here and see what happens.

Here’s what I remember about the experience.

Being taken out of Latin America by plane and dropped into the middle of Anglo America is culturally like being taked out of a warm, comfy bath and dropped into ice water. As I told a Peruvian guy who I met that day, las chicas aqui son frias, i.e. the women here are ice cold. He completely agreed and we further agreed it was the culture more than anything else.

While talking to him, a couple of white girls came around offering dances and VIP ripoffs to a customers sitting around me. I, of course listened to what they had to say to some guys who were obviously regular customers. As they started talking, what were the topics? Career. (Of course.) Shopping. Eating out. Jobs. What material goods she and her friends have and how she’s plotting her strategy to competitively consume with these people. What she wants to have materialistically.

All the programming via social engineering and the media seems to be still working, untarnished in my absence of over a year.

Other thoughts. It’s the strangest thing for a straight man to see a chick naked in front of him and experience the following:

  1. Thinking how strange the skin color looks (totally white).
  2. Thinking how very little tits and ass these girls have compared to what girls in Latin America have.
  3. Thinking how cold their attitudes were towards me and other customers.
  4. Experiencing a latent feeling of resentment (which I hid with a smile) towards the women, to the point of not wanting to tip them.

I didn’t give them a single $1 bill. I just drank, and looked on, bored really. Maybe it’s because I’ve been getting more ass than a toilet seat over the past few years, but maybe there’s another factor too.


Las chicas aqui son frias…that’s what I thought as I sat and watched women take off their clothes in Anglo America

Closing Thoughts

I know all women are in strip clubs for cash, but white chicks’ personalities are so frigid and they have so mistreated me as well as most friends and male acquaintances I’ve known throughout my life they’ve become the equivalent of walking bags of protoplasm to me. Asexual, difficult personalities, self-absorbed, too K-selected to be much fun but somehow taking off their clothes for a living. No conversation beyond lame attempts to sell me a dance and extract some money from my wallet. Typical. I know I’m nothing but a walking, talking utility to you but at least try to have a little humanity, girls.

I hang out for a few hours to try and give the place a chance but decide to wander off to another club I saw on Google Maps when I searched strip clubs.

The second place had mostly Latinas and black chicks, and if nothing else I had some interesting conversations with the dancers who were much friendlier and “warmer” people than the white girls in the other club. The mood of the second place wasn’t as “frio” as the other one.

I actually met a Latina (Mexicana) who was originally from California who was very fun to talk to for a couple of hours. Even though I could tell she has been tainted by her experience in a materialistic, male-hating culture, she still retained some of the Old World charm I’ve grown very fond of over the past decade of being in and out of Latin America. Of course, she wanted to sell dances too but at least I got some sort of human interaction from her. Same deal with the black chicks in there.

I tried a third place in town and it ended up being the same as the other two.

That said, I don’t think the fact white chicks are so dull in strip clubs is race as much as it is culture. Anglo culture pedestalizes women and white women are the most coddled and privileged individuals on this entire planet. Having a K-selected behavioral reportoire also means they are more cunning and less caring when it comes to men. All this is of course, my opinion, based on a lifetime of careful observation.

But in an already jarring experience coming back to The Matrix for a visit, the white strip club visit really seemed to confirm how disjointed and mercenary relations between the sexes have become in 21st century America. It was bizarre. I’m not a hard person to talk to or get along with, yet I felt completely out of place in the white strip club and just thinking to myself how did our women become this bad? Have they always been this bad?

Can’t wait to get back on the plane outta here.

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Stories from the Road: Isabella, Hot Caramel Latina


More memories from my expat adventures on Hispaniola

Stories from the Road | Bro Stories from my Travels

There I was in the middle of another idyllic tropical afternoon. I like to check in on a dating app I use once in a while to see what kind of tail is in town. I had seen this girl pop up from time to time on the app, and would later discover she lives in Santo Domingo but comes here to schmooze with the wealthy gringo expats and, though she won’t say it, look for one to take care of her as she impacts with The Wall in the next few years.

Meantime, she is 29, and although impact with The Wall is on the horizon this girl really has it going on. She’s still a stunner, and really must have been something when she was younger. Light brown skin, well kept hair, very pretty, with perky breasts and legs that evoke an old Bukowski quote in my mind…the one where he says there is a certain mystique about a woman’s legs, and a man always imagines there’s something more than just a cunt at the end of them. This girl definitely got my imagination flowing looking at her pictures, and then later, seeing her in person she did not disappoint.


I love being surrounded by women like this

Anyway, I made my move. “Hola, como estas. Cuando vamos tomar una cerveza?” She was quick on the response. After the usual pleasantries and such the conversation took a turn towards my intentions. She asked if I had a girlfriend, and of course assholes don’t care what women think so I said, “Si.” After some flirting and gaming and general assholery, she must have been taken in by my boldness and invited me over to her place by sending me a map. After sneaking out of the house while my main girlfriend was out, I walked around the barrios of town just after dark looking for her place but I could never find it. It was not to be that night. The map was wrong! Goddammit! After texting her to tell her the map she sent me was totally wrong, we talked and I finally figured out the general neighborhood she was in. But, my girl came home so we would have to wait to get this thing on until the next day.

The next afternoon, I found a way to get out of the house under the guise of walking for exercise, and Isabella told me she would stand outside and wait for me near the little vacation house she has, and that all I needed to do was find the road she was on. I found her, and after looking both ways to make sure nobody was following me and nobody who knew my main girl was around, I walked back with her to her place.

I walked in, and we talked for a few minutes while I marveled at her beautiful caramel body. When Latin women have it, they have it going on. I sent her photo to several of my closest bros and they all agreed she was quite the trophy. I knew it would never last because she was a high-class girl looking for an expensive meal ticket. But, I could at least visit the playground and break it in for some rich boy who she would no doubt end up with.


RF Life Coaching is affordable Realtalk for men

First time intercourse is always a little awkward especially when you have just met a girl in person a few minutes before you are inside of them. She was even better looking than her photos. For a 29-year old, Isabella really has a great body. Before I knew it I had her bra off and her nipple in my mouth. I remember her dark nipples and the suppleness of her breasts. Before long I had her cunt in my face (I usually don’t do oral with strange girls but she was very clean) so I went for it.

The next thing I knew she was on top, then I was hitting it from behind, then I was on top. She really knows how to move en la cama so this ended up being 45 minutes of pure pleasure for the both of us. It was quite a ride. She really knows what she’s doing, much more than my regular girlfriend.

Before I knew it, I was sneaking down to her little place every few days and we were getting nasty together. But, this brings up one word of caution for the man considering becoming a player. Once a man gets used to strange all the time he will forever be craving that next “high” with a new chick. Something changes in the male mind and one sex partner, no matter how sexy and how awesome, just doesn’t do it anymore. After a few weeks of our on and off again sexual escapades and her trying to probe me to see if I would leave my girlfriend and go back to Santo Domingo with her, she had to go back home and I let her go. Alone.

She continued to invite me down to see her home in the capital but I had already moved on. I will always remember her though, as this girl is a real stunner and I had an awesome time wearing it out. She was incredibly sexy. But me, being the spoiled man I have turned into have already moved on to new pursuits with strange, new women. I’ve been through so much with women in my life once the thrill is gone, so am I. I have no patience for their needs and their lies and their wants. I tried it that way when I was younger, being the nice guy. It didn’t work. This does.

To those who would criticize: Don’t hate the player, hate the game. I’ve been on both sides of this coin, and trust me this is the better side to be on.

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Stories from the Road: That Moment


That moment at the pool table

Stories from the Road | Bro Stories from my Travels

So, I’m hanging out again last night with a very hot Haitian girl (she actually looks like a model). Incidentally, she’s the same sweet girl I wrote about a few days ago. Let’s call her Melanie. In any case, we are playing pool and drinking a few beers in between some fiery Salsa and Bachata dancing, when who walks in but another one of my flings, a lighter skinned girl (let’s call her Johnna) and her new beau. They start playing pool at the table right beside us.

That moment, I could tell Johnna was feeling awkward. I had already had a few beers so I didn’t feel awkward like her. I would stare at her and smile just to get a reaction out of her. (A little background on Johnna and me, we’ve partied together and screwed around on numerous occasions. She has openly professed she would like to be my girl and I really like her as a friend, but I know it’s best to leave things at friendship in this particular case.) There’s obviously still a spark between Johnna and I just based on how she was acting during the pool game. She would stare at me and give me huge smiles and smoldering looks while her dude wasn’t looking. She was looking at me more than she was her date.

Meantime, I was trying not to be so obvious around Melanie, but it did feel good in the fact there were two hot girls playing pool side by side at two different tables and I have banged both of them numerous times. Melanie remained clueless that I knew Johnna, but Johnna’s new guy must have seen the fiery looks Joanna and I were giving each other (trying to hide it as best we could) because he quickly whisked her out of the club after she gave me a “I want to do some blow with you and fuck the shit out of you” look.

I’ll never forget the way I felt being caught in that particular (but secret) love triangle. I sometimes go through several women a week, but these two are special to me and it was amazing to have them side by side if only for an hour or so.

Long story short, we stumbled home and Melanie gave me another one of the best nights of my life at her place. She’s really quite a thrill in bed, and loves to have sex with me. I’m sure I’ll run into Johnna again sometime soon.

That’s the latest installment from mi vida loca. By the way, I won both games with my chica even though she is quickly improving her game. She is beautiful and talented. Ha. Until next time…

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Stories from the Road: Staying Up All Night Partying with and Banging a Hot Black Girl


Just capped off a multi-day romp with what will be one of the most memorable girls of my life, one similar in appearance to this model

Stories from the Road | Bro Stories from my Travels

This article is the beginning of series occasionally detailing some highs and lows from my adventures abroad chasing hot chicks and having other sorts of mischievous fun. So, let’s get right to business detailing some time I spent with a hot Haitian girl.

To me, there is nothing like a sweet girl. But this girl goes beyond sweet, she is dripping with sweetness. She exudes it from her pores. It is her essence. As soon as I met her I knew she was different. Best of all, she’s 20 years old. Her breasts are firm and supple. And I need not mention the beauties of the black behind as any man who has eyes knows when black girls have it, it’s jaw dropping. (Not the fat asses of American black women. The natural amazing curve that thinner black women abroad have). As soon as we met I knew this was going to be one of those electric relationships, ever how long it lasts. After a night of caliente salsa dancing at the discoteca, we ended up back at her place listening to Kompas and all other kinds of music. She invited me over. Hey, who am to refuse.

Oh, for those interested in aesthetics this song also comes to mind. (I couldn’t feel my face, either). I know it was one of the many jams playing when I turned on the music at her place.


RF Life Coaching is affordable Realtalk for men

We spent 3 or 4 days together having some of the hottest, nastiest sex ever. I was amazed at just how much she enjoys bumping and grinding and everything in between. I don’t know about you but I love having a chick sit on my face and wriggle (to borrow a line from Airplane!). Then her on top, me on top, and every position in between. She’s one of those girls who really enjoys sex, and these kinds of girls are just electric in bed.

In between sex we would head out to the food carts at 4 am, or I would send her out for a tostada the next morning. Or we would go play pool, dance, and drink it up. It was one of those whimsical, magical flings. Fun from beginning to end, when a man sincerely enjoys the company of the girl he’s just met. Call it being high on love, or lust.

After several days of sex and fun, with things like me showing her how to drive a motorcycle at the beach, to me dodging the other chicks in town I know by taking the back roads when we would go out, to us smoking hookah in a bar, it was unfortunately time for me to go. She was practically begging me not to leave her, apparently Game really worked on this chick. Even as hardened as I have become towards women through a lifetime of seeing their tricks in action, I couldn’t help but return the kindness to her. She ate it up. I’ll never forget this girl I met on a random encounter in a discoteca for the rest of my life.

I’ll surely be looking her up again soon.

Gentlemen, I believe the key to living a great life lies not in what kind of material crap we buy, but in the awesome experiences we have. This is one of those times where I didn’t care that we were hanging out in her one room apartment for several days and I had one bag of clothes with me and my laptop and tablet. It was all about the experience and the adventure of being with a girl that really loved being with me and I loved being with her.

This simple experience and being able to have more like it on a regular basis makes anything back home pale in comparison. Like butterfly’s wings being touched, when a man realizes that the price of all the garbage he has been conditioned to buy is to enrich some CEO at his expense and only to maximize quarterly profits, it’s enough to spark a revolt in his mind. Fuck you and your 60 hour a week Puritan work ethic, Matrix tax farmers. Some of us have found a way to have an awesome life on much less cash and crap than you’ve told us we need.

This enchanting ebony babe will now and forever be immortalized in my memory and in print. What an experience. This short story helps illustrate why I will always have a special place in my heart for the black girls I’ve dated and had flings with. It’s fun being around them.

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