The boy, untouched by anyone but himself, stands before the camera, his heart pounding in his chest. He's here to verify, to show that he's worthy of Nygmasigmund's collection. He takes a deep breath and begins to touch himself, his fingers tracing the length of his cock, feeling it twitch and harden under his touch. He closes his eyes, imagining the hands are not his own, the touch more experienced, more demanding. He loses himself in the fantasy, his body tensing as he nears his release, his moans filling the room as he spills himself onto the floor.