Movie industry sure was not what it once was...
Alright, alright. Maybe this wasn't exactly a mainstream production. Perhaps not strictly legal, either, but then that legal and moral ambiguity has always been the hallmark of Penectomy Productions and one of the reasons why their main franchise, The She-Nazi Castration Clinic, was an underground favorite. They were currently filming number XI.
The film's star was simply adorable. And eighteen-year-old darling from Norway. The boy's foster mother had sold him for the company for very good money. She would be so proud to see him make in the industry!
The camera is rolling. The first moments of an ensured future classic about to be created. Women is nurse's outfits surround the naked boy sitting upright on an operating table, gagged, his wrists cuffed and suspended from the ceiling, a blanket half covering him.
"Ah, ze boy is already crying. Ja, that will make your work all the more . . . enjoyable." The woman was not a particularly good actor, but then her sadistic laughter was quite genuine. Their female leads may not have been great thespians but they were fierce and dedicated professionals in other areas.
"Und fhat haf ve unter hier?"
The woman removes the blanket and we see that his ankles and thighs have been strapped to the table. Then the camera zooms in to his erect penis.
"Ja, der drugs haf taken effect."
The camera stays on his cock as the woman starts to stroke it with her gloved hands. These films were leather-fetishist's gold. We get a close up of her smiling face. And his mortified, teared up face as well.
Camera returns to the cock, and the woman's voice says. "It's sehr big.
"Ja," agrees another woman emphatically. "It's almost . . . a shame."
"Almost," says third.
The women laugh.
Then we see as the second woman steps up holding a leather strap. "At least ve get to enjoy it for a vhile," she says ominously.
And then the third woman, as she takes out a scalpel and raises it between herself and the camera. The scalpel gleams in the light and she stares at it with a cold smile on her painted lips. "Ja. For . . . a vhile."
"Cut!" The director cries.
And the all-female film crew takes a short break before the main scenes begin. The boy's makeup gets fixed (far that's possible from the tears) and his body oiled some more to ensure that his coming travails will look good on film.
Not to worry. The actual castration scene will be done with effects. After all, this kid shows promise and will doubtless star in many more of the production company's features (he has certainly caught the producers' eyes, and will no doubt be seeing them plenty in person in the future). So that money maker between his legs will be quite safe.
Of course, the torture leading up to the finale will be quite real. His cock and balls carefully worked over. After all, you can't fake the beauty of the real thing. It's what the audience (and the company) demands.