A Place To Draw Blood Laughing

I intend to address the idea of the harem as a scene, full of all sorts of imaginary kinks and chains are possible auction blocks and lots of sexy jewelry. I have been buzzing about harems ever since May and I watched the movie Alexander. Okay, maybe before then, but the movie kicked me up into high gear. But although I definitely will be delving into the erotic fantasy of the harem, first, right now, there should be a brief personal history. This will hopefully flesh out the way my brain sparks between fantasy and reality.

For about four years now I have been building an imaginary harem. By this I mean that when I see someone on the street or meet someone in one context or another, if they really and overwhelmingly strike my fancy I add them, mentally, to my harem. Mental harems are the spank bank of the dominant woman. Once added to my mental harem they will occasionally show up in masturbation fantasies, but are more often simply thought on fondly.

My mental harem is not, however, a place for me to organize all the jumbled thoughts of the possibly erotic. It is not packed full of random bits and pieces, but is instead one aspect of my erotic mental processes alongside thousands of others. I am very, incredibly choosy over who gains a place in my mental harem. So much so, in fact, that it currently has only three members, with a possible fourth addition that I have to think on a while longer.

Because my penchant for reality overwhelms even my erotic fantasies, there are a lot of nitty gritty rules and requirements to get into my mental harem. For example, the entry has to be someone whom I would genuinely love to fuck. Any time, anywhere, over the breakfast table or on Tuesday afternoons. That’s not many people. That is, in fact, a much smaller number of people than one might think. Also, it really, really helps if the mental harem contains real, live, actual people. People who might, one day in some sort of strange alternate future, show up at my doorstep if they haven’t already. This means movie stars are right out. Fictional characters are possibilities, but they have to work extra hard. (Possible fourth is fictional, which is why he’s not a definite addition yet.)

Guidelines like these and several others are in place because of the way the idea of the mental harem came about. I didn’t intend this group of people in this dynamic as a random sexual fantasy. The word “harem” usually brings up an image like the scene from Alexander, of a wide open room, strewn with cushions and adorned with hundreds of girls and boys, hung with jewels, trained in seductions, utterly willing and also usually enslaved. It is tempting, yes indeed. But rather than structure my imaginary harem around the classical image the word recalls, I have a different image in mind; not an impossible idea purely for the realm of fantasy, but something more practical, something I could eventually build into a reality. A clean, brilliant space and a beautiful, loyal group of people. Something maintainable, workable. Something that allows for the nuance of emotion.