Eric is a dreamer. He dreams of thugs in leather jackets with their cocks out, giving him a hard time. Eric likes muscles in action - they get him horny until he shoots in his hand. What about doing it instead of dreaming it? He lets himself go and his fantasy becomes Corps dlite! He gets stopped and is kept under surveillance. Hes carefully searched by the perverts of the regiment. Wheres the line between reality and fiction? Past, fantasy, dreams and humour - all mixed up!