Turner Andrews, a 22-year old recent analyst hire

Smooth jazz music started playing as the screen faded from an empty black screen to show what could only be described as a tropical resort. Palm trees swayed slightly in a gentle, salty breeze. Small waves of crystal clear water crashed along a pristine beach that seemed to extend for miles in each direction. A tall volcano stood prominently in the background, completing the ensemble.

The image panned over to show a luxurious resort, the likes of which Hawaii, Fiji, and the Caribbean could never compare. It was a modernly-designed building, mixing the unmistakably marble look with lavish metals like gold and brass, complete with a lavish courtyard, most of which was taken up by an Olympic-sized swimming pool, seemingly randomly placed paths of stepping stones crossing the lawn, and a lounge that was similar to a gazebo with a tiki bar-looking structure.

Out of the front entrance and into the courtyard stepped a beautiful woman. Her dark-colored skin showed that she was more than used to living in the tropics. She bore long legs, a shapely and womanly rear, and rather full breasts that weren't too imposing. Her dark hair was loose, draping down to about the middle of her back. Wearing an emerald green dress that didn't leave much to the imagination, she began to speak.

"Hello, and welcome back to Harem Hotel!" She greeted with an accent reminiscent of Georgia or Alabama, "A show where we draft a group of women to compete for the affections of a master. I'm your host, Kendra, but I'm not who this show is about! Let's meet our Harem Master!"

She continued, flashing the camera a large smile. "This will be the man who all our contestants will try to win favor from. His name is Turner Andrews, an up-and-coming analyst recently hired in 'The District', as they call it up north. Let's introduce him..."

"Washington can suck my dick!" Turner shouted aloud as the evening rush hour traffic coming out of D.C. slowed to a crawl.

It was an average autumn day in the capital, a fairly humid and windy morning gave way to a cool and breezy evening as the sky turned various colors, painting the blue canvas of a sky with streaks of orange, pink, and purple.

Another car honking behind Turner took him out of his amazement. Looking in front of him, the cars had moved forward maybe four inches, and whoever was behind was hopping mad that he didn't move forward that minimal amount. As if that would make the situation any better.

Turner was getting even more upset as he realized that he wasn't going to get home anytime soon to see his beautiful girlfriend of five years. She was in her final year of college, whereas Turner had graduated the year before, despite the fact that she was one year his senior.

"Right, like getting those four inches is integral to you getting home in a timely manner," he sarcastically said aloud to the empty car. "I swear, the only shit part about this job is commuting to and from the city."

After another half hour of traffic on interstate 95 moving maybe a few miles, he decided to just pull off the freeway and take a backroad home.

"Might as well, not like that clusterfuck is gonna be moving anywhere soon," he again reasoned to nobody in the car as he pulled into the exit lane.

Turner glanced into the mirror to see a police car with its lights on and siren blaring peeling down the breakdown lane. His reflection stared back at him. He bore a somewhat youthful face, with short brown hair brushed to the left side, dark brown eyes that were almost distinguishable from his black pupils, and several dimples when he smiled. His build overall wasn't super impressive; fit, but not muscular in any way. He had gotten lucky when a contracting firm in Washington had given him an internship job for his senior year of college, and then hired him the following spring.

"Finally off of that shit freeway," he complained to, again, not a single soul but himself as he turned onto the backroad.

As he began his journey on the county road, he sent his girlfriend Becca a text that he would be home soon before he lost cell service in the forests of northeastern Virginia. The oak trees began imposing on him as his car rounded the corners of a road darkened by the setting sun and canopy of leaves overhead.

"Fuck, I feel lightheaded. This day just can't get any worse," he suddenly exclaimed as his head started to ache as if he stood up too fast. "I better pull over for a few seconds to gain my bearings."

Pulling over in a small gravel patch on the right side of the painted white divider, he turned the car off and tried to cure his headache. It only got worse, however, as he began to feel off-balance. Pushing the seat back and into a laying down position, he tried to say something, anything, but nothing escaped his mouth but air. Alarmed, he tried to sit back up, but kept falling limply back into a supine position, before he finally felt like he was falling.

"Is this it?" he wondered to himself. "Am I having a heart attack in the backwoods of nowhere? Am I dying?"

Kendra sat cross-legged in the courtyard, checking her watch impatiently for her first visitor to finally make his way here. Her waiting was finally done as she heard the front door open. Swiveling her head around, she saw a young, brown-haired man tentatively looking around in awe and bewilderment. His business-casual outfit had been replaced by a pair of swimming shorts, a Hawaiian shirt with most of the buttons done, and sandals.

"Come over here!" she called out to him.

Turner instinctually smoothed out his shirt with his hands, before realizing how little sense that made, and started to slowly and trepidatiously make his way down the stony path in the courtyard to the lounge chair that the tanned woman was sitting in. Looking around, it was so much to take in; almost too much, and he found himself getting light-headed again. Eventually, though, he did reach the covered patio area. Kendra gestured to the small one-person seat across from herself and he slowly sat down with apprehension.

"Where...am I?" he managed. "This doesn't look like Virginia...have I died and gone to heaven?"

"No, sugar, you're here, on my show," the lady said with an unmistakably Southern accent. "I'm Kendra, and I'll be the host of this season of Harem Hotel, a TV show that you've been recruited to. This building that you exited from is my resort here. I promise, it'll all make sense soon."

"Wh-wait, a show? Harem Hotel?" he said doubtfully. "What kind of channel would run a show like that? seems a little...mature for your average, run-of-the-mill network. And I've never heard of it."

"It isn't shown where you're from. People there apparently share the same temperament as you...it's too mature or whatever y'all call it," she said dismissively.

"Where I'm from?" Turner narrowed his eyes, both analyzing the situation and becoming a little more wary. "So what, is this like somewhere in the Pacific?"

"Oh, you need to think outside the box," Kendra said, gesturing to denote something large. "I'd say more like this is an alternative reality, if you will."

Kendra hoped that the emotional control that she and the producers held would stop his wariness from growing into something more uncontrollable and erratic; they were able to make him a bit more docile, suggestible, and mellow when they brought him here. His eyes did expand to the size of saucers, but then returned back to their hesitant and incredulous state.

"Right...sure...alternative reality," Turner said with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I suppose that's the only explanation for how you got here, not that you me or something while I was at work. Anyways, what the heck is this 'Harem Hotel' of yours?" He added air quotes around the words 'Harem Hotel' to drive home his disbelief.

"Well, have you ever heard of The Bachelor?" Kendra said, drawing from Turner's memories.

"Yeah, sure, that tacky show where some guy has girls all over him and he has to date them?" Turner said, showing his disdain for the show. "What about it?"

"Think of this show like that," Kendra said with more confidence. "You'll be surrounded by these women all competing and vying for your love. However, you won't be just trying to date or marry or whatever it is you kids do nowadays at the end. They'll be in your harem at the end, and..."

"Woah woah woah," he cut her off there. "I don't know who you thought I was, but I don't think I'm the guy you want for this job. I have the best girlfriend ever, I'm not about to go and try to have a harem with these random girls you all picked out for me. And hey, that reminds me! What about my girlfriend? I just let her know I was about to be home before you brought me here, she's gonna be worried sick if you don't let me go!"

"I would explain how this all works, but you probably couldn't comprehend it, so let's call it magical powers," Kendra said with a bit of a condescending tone, getting annoyed at Turner's continued indignation. "Anyways, those 'magical powers' are making sure that people don't really notice that you're not there anymore. A select few people will know; those closest to you such as your family, close friends, and, of course, your girlfriend, but things will function as usual without you. Don't worry, we've thought about that."

"That didn't even begin to answer any of my other questions," Turner said exasperatedly.

"Fine, you want me to answer everything else?" Kendra said, growing more annoyed. "You're an American guy, of course you'd want beautiful women at your side, even if you refuse to admit it. The more the merrier, that's the saying, is it? Plus, don't think of this as some sort of abduction, as you've been seeming to think of it as, think of it as a vacation! People would totally kill to get time off their job for free and get to come to a tropical resort. You do realize what we're offering you here, right?"

"I don't care what you think, I'm not going to be in some sort of trashy porno TV show of yours!" Turner said, standing up.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to," Kendra said smugly. "You don't even have any way of getting back to wherever you came. We brought you here, we're in charge of taking you back to your world. And if we don't want to take you back, then tough titties."

Turner sat there dumbfounded as Kendra used her "magical powers" to bring a bottle of wine over and pour it into two glasses that suddenly appeared in front of the two of them. It was a small display of what she and the producers were capable of, but it had the intended effect on Turner, who looked amazed.

"Fine, I'll stay here and play your stupid little game," he relented, crossing his arms in front of him, "But don't think I'm about to just get up and have sex with these women you bring here. I have a girlfriend, you know."

"Oh, we know," Kendra said. "We did our research on you. In fact, your girlfriend...Becca was it? She's gonna be our first contestant."

Turner heard a faint *ding* come from inside the hotel, assuming that signified the arrival of a new person; Becca, he reasoned.

"Hold up, I know the people who are gonna be competing in this?" he said, his anger returning. "You think that bringing in my girlfriend amongst the other contestants is gonna make me _more _likely to cheat on her?"

"And another home run!" Kendra says with a smile. "Yes, you do know the people who are going to be competing here. I don't necessarily think that bringing in your girlfriend will make you more likely to cheat on her, but I think what's eventually going to be happening will."

"Wait, what do you have planned?" Turner said, his anger now mixing with worry.

"You're gonna have to wait until we introduce everyone before we get to that, dear," Kendra waved dismissively again. "Now, let's get started!"