As the guards seized young Henri, he began to scream, tears flowing down his face. “Si’l vous plait! Si’l vous plait!” he cried.

The crowd loved his begging, feeding on the youth’s desperation. They laughed at the sight of his urine stained pants, and seemed to relish that he had urinated in pure terror. Having just witnessed the older man’s unmanning, Henri was in no hurry to have his turn. He fought the four guards dragging him to the centre of the platform, and as they ripped his clothes off his youthful body, he seemed to convulse in a frenzy of unbridled panic. Every muscle in his body rippled. His slim, sinewy form was a stark contrast to the soft, bulging belly of the previous prisoner. Henri’s patch of pubic hair was small and sparse, and his chest was hairless. As his pants were unceremoniously yanked down, the crowd could see his large testes hanging down, loose in their hairless sac. His penis was long and thick, even larger than Georges’. As the crowd watched, his penis visibly lengthened, then began rising eagerly, aroused by his abrupt nakedness before so many attractive women.

Doriane approached him, with her tin of lubricating grease at the ready. She took out a gob of dark grease and began to work it into the boy’s erection. Henri gasped at her touch, so long had it been since a woman had touched him there.

Across the stage, Sylvie gazed upon his rising appendage with unholy lust and traced her tongue across her upper lip, hungrily. So aroused was she that she was unable to restrain her right hand from falling towards her crotch.

As Doriane slipped her fingers around Henri’s throbbing dome, palpating his sensitive flesh with utmost skill, he groaned suddenly; his penis swelled even larger in her hand, and the essence of his manhood issued forth in a long jet, arcing across the platform. Doriane looked surprised, but it was too late to stop what she had started. She continued to stroke him, expertly propelling his final spurts of semen into the air. An act of final mercy, perhaps? wondered Chuck. The crowd cheered and whistled their appreciation of his abrupt emission.

Now the guards worked quickly, not wanting to lose the lad’s erection. While four guards held Henri firmly, Doriane knelt before him and quickly tied a short leather cord tightly and painfully around the base of his still-spasming penis. One end of a long cord was similarly tied tightly around the neck of his scrotum, trapping his testicles, and the other end was tossed toward the guillotine and threaded through its lower aperture. The woman at the guillotine yanked the cord viciously as the guards at his elbows propelled him roughly toward the waiting machine. In seconds he was pressed firmly against it, and the guards quickly latched down the lunette over his genitals. Protruding through the aperture, his male member remained relentlessly rigid, pointing toward the sky, seemingly oblivious of its just-completed ejaculation. A long thin string of semen drooled from the tip onto the severed genitals in the bowl below.

As the guards secured the broad leather strip tightly above his buttocks, Sylvie stepped forward once again.

“This prisoner, Henri Lechasseur, sentenced to two years for repeated indecent exposure to women, found in the act of masturbation whilst under the detention of the village of Voile is therefore sentenced...” – once again there was a tense pause – “...to be unmanned!”

The drum roll began. Hearing the drums, Henri panicked and screamed like a madman. His bulging eyes skittered wildly across the rowdy crowd, and then suddenly he bent his head forward, between the posts, straining to look over the lunette for a final glance at all that made him a man. Behind him, Doriane reached out and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back and out of the path of the blade. Henri arched his back, heaving and struggling, as she restrained him. In doing so he thrust his protruding genitals forward, through the machine’s apertures and toward the crowd. Doriane nodded to the woman holding the release cable.

At that instant, the lever was tripped and the blade made its speedy journey to unman him.

The machine shook as the blade slammed to a halt against its stops. Henri’s scream changed in intensity, wild and desperate. He thrust his hips in and out but it was a useless gesture, for now there was nothing to move, and only a dribble of blood and semen emerged from the lunette’s yawning opening. Doriane released her grip on Henri’s hair and helped the other guards hold him where he stood as his restraints were removed.

Henri looked down in horror at the new emptiness of his crotch. His consciousness abruptly failed him. In the silver bowl, the tip of his severed penis glistened in the late afternoon sunlight with the last of his spending. Young Henri was no longer a man.