A lonely accountant reflects on the raw disappointment in the men around her. No boss, no coworker, no face or name in her real world that stirs even a flicker of lust. She’s surrounded by the beige, sexless tedium of office life, by soft men. Her hunger, her fantasies, are so much darker and rougher, born entirely from her own desperate imagination. Every man she dreams of is an apparition conjured by need, ruthless and all-consuming, the utter opposite of her real life. She is so starved for that kind of presence that she finds herself sinking into private worlds of domination and forced surrender no one here could ever provide. She dreams of men who take, men who don’t ask, men who use her up and leave her trembling