So if you are under 18, a right wing republican christian or anyone else who is offended by nudity, vulgarity and/or a wanton disrespect for societal norms, consider yourself warned and leave. Oh and might I add, "If thine eyes offend thee, PLUCK THEM OUT". Just don't complain!

~The more defects a man may have, the older he is, the less lovable, the more resounding his success.~
Marquis de Sade

"Allow me to be frank at the commencement. You will not like me. The gentlemen will be envious and the ladies will be repelled. You will not like me now and you will like me a good deal less as we go on. Ladies, an announcement: I am up for it, all the time. That is not a boast or an opinion, it is bone hard medical fact. I put it round you know. And you will watch me putting it round and sigh for it. Don't. It is a deal of trouble for you and you are better off watching and drawing your conclusions from a distance than you would be if I got my tarse up your petticoats. Gentlemen. Do not despair, I am up for that as well. And the same warning applies. Still your cheesy erections till I have had my say. But later when you shag - and later you will shag, I shall expect it of you and I will know if you have let me down - I wish you to shag with my homuncular image rattling in your gonads. Feel how it was for me, how it is for me and ponder. 'Was that shudder the same shudder he sensed? Did he know something more profound? Or is there some wall of wretchedness that we all batter with our heads at that shining, livelong moment. That is it. That is my prologue, nothing in rhyme, no protestations of modesty, you were not expecting that I hope. " from The Libertine and the bottom of Nic's dark soul.

There is in every madman a misunderstood genius whose idea, shining in his head, frightened people, and for whom delirium was the only solution to the strangulation that life had prepared for him.
~Antonin Artaud

I hurt myself see if i still feel......I focus on the pain......the only thing thats real......The needle tears a hole.....the old familiar sting........try to kill it all away..........but I remember everything........what have I become, my sweetest friend .........everyone i know, goes away in the end.......and you could have it all, my empire of dirt........I will let you down..........I will make you hurt..........I wear this crown of thorns.....upon my liars chair......full of broken thoughts.........I cannot repair..........beneath the stains of time........the feelings are someone else..........I am still right here.........What have I become, my sweetest friend..........everyone I know, goes away in the end...........and you could have it all, my empire of dirt..........I will let you down............I will make you hurt...........if I could start again, a million miles away..........I will keep myself..........I would find a way.......NINE INCH NAILS

Monday, February 06, 2006
Vlad's Next Semester

As requested by Loz:

Vlad Tepes left the women at the College of St. Mary after one year. In that short period of time he had taught and seduced over 500 nubile young women and several staff members. Each made the transition from student to novice in a sect that had little to do with St. Mary. They became his children and his disciples, as they spread his blood lust through Omaha Nebraska. Soon the rigid mid-western community became a center for sensual pleasures; as the women he had taught seduced their families, friends and former lovers. Just as he had passed his blood to them, they in turn shared theirs until every young soul was possessed with new found desire and lust. The seed had been planted in the mid-west and now it was time to find a new home.

He had begun his search using the directory of the Women’s College Coalition. He perused it like a diner would a menu trying to determine what looked the tastiest to him. There were 57 colleges throughout the country, but he eliminated any in the mid-west knowing that “His girls” would soon infiltrate those. As he looked at the directory he heard the lyric to the song that was on the radio, “Well east coast girls are hip I really dig those styles they wear”.

“The East coast would be a nice place to be.” He thought, and the New England area with its old blood lines and ties to which craft would be even better. He looked at the directory and put his finger on Wellesley College, founded in 1870. He looked at their mission statement “The mission of Wellesley College is to provide an excellent liberal arts education for women who will make a difference in the world.” He grinned as he thought of the difference his pupils were making in the world. He looked at the curriculum and found “Medieval/Renaissance Studies”; everything was perfect.

He sent his resume, credentials and references off and within a week received a call. The president of the college was very impressed, but the class he wanted to teach already had an instructor. He was told that they would keep his resume in case some other position became available. Vlad was not one who would leave anything to chance, so he found the name of the current instructor who was a middle aged woman and decided to pay her a visit. He flew into Boston on the “redeye” and drove west to Wellesley to a local bed and breakfast. He rang the bell and a light came on, soon a cherubic older woman with full breast came to the door. “Have you got any idea what time it is?” she said, peeking through a crack in the door.

She looked into Vlad’s dark eyes as he said, “Time for breakfast I think”. His gaze swept every other thought from her mind as she opened the door. She stood in front of him in a flannel night gown with curlers in her hair and though not beautiful now, he could tell than in her youth, she was. His gaze went deep into her mind and found that place where lust still resided. He placed visions in her mind until, he knew she was ready and then laid her across the kitchen table. She lifted her flannel nightgown and parted her legs revealing a pussy that was freshly shaved and quite wet. He put his lips to her cunt at first kissing it and then ran his tongue up the quivering slit. She responded to his touch as every woman had for hundreds of years, yielding and bringing forth her cum. He drank until satiated and then stood. He brought his mouth down once again, only this time it was to sink his incisors into her thigh and taste the blood that raced through her femoral artery. As he drank, the crows feet around her eyes disappeared and her face took on a new glow and then the curves she once was so proud of reappeared. In a matter of minutes, 25 years of aging reversed itself and she was once again a 22 year old.

Vlad stood and eased her off the table. “My room” he thought and she took him by the hand and led him up the stairs. When they entered the room, she removed her gown and revealed her new body. He was pleased with her and led her to the bed, where he had her in a variety of deviant ways until night was about to vanish into day. He sent her out of the room with instructions to wake him when the sun was gone. She left the room and felt a new life pulsating through her body. She bathed, pampered herself and then went shopping for a new wardrobe that would accentuate her rediscovered curves. At sundown she returned to his room.

She was no longer the middle aged, frumpy, inn-keeper he had encountered the night before. After he had worked his magic on her body, she found new ways to adorn it.
When she entered his room, she was wearing nothing, but a short silk robe. He was laying on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest as if he were in a casket being viewed. “Master, the sun is down and it is time to wake. I have brought you your breakfast.” She said and then untied the silk robe exposing her firm breast and glimmering cunt. He reached out his hand and let his fingers explore her as she became wetter. He raised her onto the bed and then positioned her over his mouth. Her juices hung from her labia, like due on a leaf and his tongue caught every drop. When he had finished with her lips, his tongue extended out and entered her as a hummingbird enters a blossom to suck the nectar from its center. She swooned as he drained her cunt and then he effortlessly raised her once again only to impale her on his hardened cock. She lost all control of her body as he drove her to orgasm after orgasm and just when she thought she had experienced all life offered; he came.

She felt the hot cum flow from his cock with a force that made her eyes widen. It filled her cunt and then seemed to enter her blood as she felt it flow through her body. She had visions and memories that seemed to be from a former life. When he finally rolled her onto the bed, she was muttering in tongues; the only discernable word was “Master”.

The Wellesley catalog listed the Medieval/Renaissance Studies instructor as being Professor Justine Le Monde Ph.d. When Vlad searched his landlady’s phonebook, he found J. Le Monde listed at an address in Cambridge. It was 6PM and his call took her by surprise; he explained that he had been in Boston to see a dealer in relic manuscripts and had been told of her work at Wellesley. He told her that he had to return to the College of St. Mary on Sunday, but wanted to meet her if possible before he left. Like many academics, she relished the opportunity to discuss her first love; medieval history. She had heard of professor Tepes and admired his reputation, but it was the opportunity to view his collection of ancient eastern European text that piqued her interest and made her want to meet him. She gave him directions that led him to a colonial house on a bluff over the St.Charles River.

It was 7:30 when he arrived and was greeted at the door by Dr. Le Mode. She was a tall, slender woman who took pride in her appearance. Her dark hair was up in a French roll and dark rimmed glasses framed her blue eyes. He saw a stunning woman who made painstaking efforts to downplay her beauty. She was wearing a black pants suit with a white silk shirt that had one open button at the base of her long neck. “Dr. Le Monde, I am Vlad Tepes, and I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice.” he said, as he took her extended hand in his.

“I am both surprised and flattered that you would look me up. I have heard of you and the program you offer at St. Mary’s. You have quite a reputation in our community for exciting your students and colleagues with your teaching techniques. I understand that you have translated Renaissance text from Eastern Europe that have remained obscure to the rest of the academic world, I would love the opportunity to view them.” She was very officious in the way she spoke to him and it was clear it wasn’t congeniality that made her acknowledge his request to meet. He brought the large leather case containing the text into the dining room and placed the manuscripts on the table. Her eyes scanned the documents and she imagined the life they had seen.

Though fluent in many romance languages, she had not studied Slavic languages. The hand written pages were beautiful, but she had no idea as to what was on them and her frustration was evident. “Would you like me to translate them for you; it is a love story that may have inspired Shakespeare. It was penned at the onset of the Renaissance and is a story about a ruler and the woman he loved.” She was intrigued and he knew how to use it to his advantage. Unlike the landlady at the end, this woman would be seduced by her own desire not by his mental manipulations.

“I can think of no greater pleasure than to have words read to me from a text that has existed for over half a millennium. Please let’s go into the library, there’s a fire there and it will be more comfortable.” She led him to a room, that looked much like it must have when built in the 18th century. Each wall was covered with Cherry wood shelving and each shelf contained volumes of texts dating back centuries. Her own collection was formidable, but contained text that were far from rare. On the floor was a bear skin rug, which gave the room a masculine quality. She poured wine and they seated themselves at opposite ends of a large leather couch that faced the fireplace. With no other light than the glow of the fire and a small reading lamp; he began to read.

She hung on his every word as she sipped the dark wine. The fire burned and the room became much warmer than it had been. Soon she stood and removed the suit jacket; as she did the pin holding her French roll in place became dislodged and her hair fell down around her shoulders. She poured another glass of wine and resumed her position on the couch; this time taking off her shoes and curling her feet under her firm ass.

She wasn’t sure whether it was the words he read to her, his voice or the wine, but she found herself becoming aroused. The story was about a Hungarian prince, who wed a Romanian princess and the love they shared. Some of the passages were passionate, while others almost erotic in the way their love became physical. The princess became possessed, by a spirit whose lust could not be satisfied. The manuscript described in detail the spirit’s desires and the prince’s attempts to satisfy them. After the second hour Dr. Lemode’s blouse had opened exposing her cleavage and the top of her La Perla black lace bra.
Vlad looked into her eyes and knew that she was his. He placed the manuscript on the end table next to the reading lamp and reached out to her.

She put her hand in his and felt the heat of his body; her pulse quickened. He pulled her towards him and she willingly went. He put his hand to her cheek and then the back of her head, weaving his fingers into her hair. He brought her mouth to his as she parted her full red lips in anticipation. She had not been in an intimate relationship and was overwhelmed with desires that were foreign to her. Her life had been dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and she had felt awkward, when men approached her for any other reason. By the time she entered her thirties, she had dismissed the idea of any kind of relationship and considered herself a spinster. Now she was experiencing desires that had never before been realized. It was almost as if that spirit which had entered the princess of the story was now controlling her mind.

He brought his other hand to her throat and then slid it down her blouse parting the buttons as he did. He slipped the blouse over one shoulder and then the other and unzipped her bra as her breathing became more rapid. The bra parted exposing her well formed breast. They were as fresh, as they had been when first developed. Alabaster skin with petite nipples; they were firm and inviting and had never been touched by other than her hand and that of her doctor. As his hand cupped them, her nipples responded. She had no experience to draw from, but knew she wanted his mouth to take her nipples and anything else it desired. He knew her every thought and satisfied her every wanton desire.

They stood and as she gazed into his eyes, he undressed her; while the fire cast their shadows over volumes of poetry. He lowered her to the bear skin rug, with her head resting on that of the slain bear. As she watched he slowly removed his clothing and then lay next to her. Her wetness was evident and his senses told him that there was virgin blood to be had. He began at her neck, kissing and biting his way down her body. Her chest heaved as he parted her legs and brought his mouth down to her waiting lips.

His lips drew her clit in and he began sucking on it as if it were a third nipple that he might somehow draw nourishment from. What she didn’t realize was, he was drawing energy from it. Her virginal fluids were still pure and had a potency beyond her wildest imagination, he fed on her for a very long time bringing on waves of orgasms on, As he sucked, licked and drank from her pussy, she was transformed. No longer was she the bookish scholar; she had become the princess in the story consumed with her own lust.

Now the time had come to claim his prize; he would have that flower tat rested between those lips. His cock was engorged as he lay on his back and brought her over it. She was made to straddle his body and then lower herself down slowly in a squatting position until the firm head of his cock parted her pussy lips. He continued to bring her down until he felt the resistance that meant he was at the gate of her innocence. In a single swift thrust she felt him push past that obstacle and deep into her cunt and then before she knew it she was on his mouth as her virgin blood was being taken and given willingly. He took every drop until the flow stopped and then rolled her onto her back.

He looked down into her eyes, and she begged him to finish her. His cock hung over her body like a stallion about to mount a mare. His first thrust found its mark and she felt a pain and pleasure like none she had ever experienced. There wasn’t a remnant of the proper professor left, she was living a dream of passion and pleasure and it went on for hours. Her orgasms made her body shake uncontrollably as she tightened on his cock. She came and begged for more. He waited until he knew he had to leave and then flooded her body with his cum; his tainted love. She felt the heat in her veins and then in her brain. He rose and dressed as she lay on the rug muttering and twitching. He took his briefcase and manuscript and then turned to her and planted a seed, “You need to go on a sabbatical to Romania and find yourself”

He left her and returned to the bed and breakfast. The landlady opened the door and followed him to his room. “Wake me at sundown” he said as she drew the blinds putting the room in darkness. He laid back on the bed and crossed his arms. The landlady obediently left the room and began her day with a renewed vigor. He had returned and she anticipated waking him and feeding him as she had done the night before. When she did wake him, she found his appetite to be as great if not greater than the previous night. He fed on her until she was in a place far from the real world. He dressed and left for the airport, but told her that he would be back to teach next semester.

On Monday, Dr. Le Mode notified the dean of Wellesley that she would be going on a sabbatical of undetermined length and suggested that the school hire Professor Tepes to teach the course in her absence. He received the call that afternoon accepted their generous offer. Dr. Le Monde spent the remainder of the semester preparing for her trip and talking about the colleague that would be teaching the course in her absence. His class was filled with over 200 young women, all eager to learn what only he could teach.

Posted at 11:06 am by BondageMaster

July 13, 2006   05:49 PM PDT
makes me wish I were a virgin again... I am quite bookish, and would have loved to have had such a grand entrance into the world of the flesh....
You know who
January 12, 2006   02:47 PM PST
oh my, locations so close to me....You could make me go back to college again Nic just for that! *winks* Now if only life were just and we were closer....what am I saying....once again the bi%ch in heat cums out. Its nice to know if I miss You I only have to come here to "feel" Your words....if not Your lash...damn this life...*smiles*
January 9, 2006   10:29 AM PST
of course
January 9, 2006   05:12 AM PST

many thanks Nic, excellent story by itself, and a great continuation of the last.

AND a great set up for another installment... yes? please?

thanks again!

I've been tainted myself
January 7, 2006   01:05 PM PST
Exquisite, as always.

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My Extended Profile

I have been both a Master and Dom in the BDSM lifestyle for 40 years. I am currently in Sin City, (Las Vegas, Nevada), but I have plied my art all over the country and yes, the giving of pain and pleasure is an art.

I started this because I thought there might be an interaction between myself and like minded individuals, but found most willing to look and not speak; for this reason I have eliminated the tag board and your ability to comment (Consider yourself gagged).

My Blog has become a reflective self analysis and has enabled Me to vent. It has reflected on my childhood, BDSM and it has been a place to share poetry, stories, and art; all erotic in their own way

Having written here for over three years, I realized that I wanted this to be the home of My impure thoughts and deeds; I decided to create another home for the menusha that comes to mind. I created Alt-Thinkining for those who have an interest in my political and social side and who might be appauled or offended by My more carnal thoughts (I love My carnal thoughts ).

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I am a dominant man. I am just that. I am not dominant because of any superiority on my part. Not because I feel I am more intelligent,or wiser. I do not dominate because of the strength or mass of my body. I am not, nor would I want to be dominant with all women. Yet to you, I am Master.

I am your Master only after earning your trust and and embracing your submissiveness. I have looked into your heart and mind and clearly see your desires and passions. You have thrown away your fears and inhibitions. You tell me of the needs of your heart and body. You have given me total access to your soul, and I accept the responsibility and honor.

You are a woman. You are not weak and inferior because of it. You are a treasure to be cherished. We are not equal. I have the strength of body and mind, and the instinctive need to protect, possess, defend, and provide for you. You are a woman and instinctively stronger of will and heart. Your belief in me gives me courage and direction. Your strength disperses my doubt. Your needs and desires encourage and give purpose to my efforts.

We are not equal. We are halves of a whole. We compliment each other and make each other complete. My desire to dominate you is instinctive. It is not to degrade you nor is it degrading to you because you are secure in being totally feminine. We recognize and accept our worth, and our need for someone to trust and fulfill our needs.

You are sure, strong and proud in your womanhood. You do not submit as acceptance of inferiority, but from strength and passion. You expect a man to stand strong and be a man. You desire and flourish in the strength and control of a man. In return you present the control of your body, unqualified trust and honesty and the faithfulness of your heart.

You submit because I have earned your trust. Because I have opened my heart and soul to you. Because I have listened to your words with my ears and heart and have learned to anticipate your needs and emotions. And because I have proven worthy in your eyes, you have given me the only true treasure of life; You have given me dominance over you.

What you give is not abnormal, but pure, natural and the rarest gift a woman can give a man. You have given me complete and unshakable assurance of your commitment to me. Your submissiveness is a magnificent gift and sacred responsibility. I accept this from you with humility and joy. I understand the rarity and purity of this gift. I recognize it is your body and soul, your heart and mind.

I dominate only because you have allowed me too and when I see you kneel before me, in my mind and heart, you are raised above all other women, and all the treasures on the earth. What you give freely cannot in reality be bought.

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And From a Submissive Woman

I find pleasure, joy, and fulfillment from being submissive to another in a loving relationship. I am not weak, or stupid. I am a strong woman, with firm views and a clear concept of what I want out of my life. I do not serve out of shame or weakness, but out of pride and strength. I look to my loving Master for guidance and protection, for never am I more complete than when he is with me. I know that he will protect my body, my mind, and my soul with his strength and wisdom.

He is everything to me, as I am everything to him. His touch awakens me and his thoughts free me. Only in serving him do I find complete freedom and joy. His punishments are harsh, but I accept them thankfully, knowing that he has my best interests always foremost in his mind. If he desires my body for pleasure, I shall joyfully give it to him, and take pleasure myself from knowing that I have brought him happiness. However, the pleasure of the flesh is but one facet of any relationship. The love, the trust and sharing, the words spoken and felt, those are all parts of this relationship.

My body is his, and if he says I am beautiful, then I am. No matter what I look like to others, I am beautiful in his eyes, and because of that I hold my head high... .. for who can tell me that my Master is wrong in seeing the beauty in me? If he says I am his princess, then I am that...regal and graceful. And if I see laughter at me in the eyes of others, I do not recognize it, for who are they to call my Master wrong?

If he says I am his toy, his slut, his tramp, then I am wanton and dirty as he wants me to be, and if others do not see this, then it is they who are blind, not my Master. My mind is his, to expand, to explore, to know as only he can. I have no secrets from him...for secrets are a thing that would keep me from being more perfectly his. Secrets would put a wall up between my Master and myself...and I do not want walls.

His lessons are not always ones I would seek on my own, but they are lessons he has decided I need, and so I learn from him. My soul is his, as bare to his touch as ever my skin could be when I kneel naked at his feet. Never a moment goes by when I do not feel his presence, be he miles away or standing over me.

I spend my days knowing that the energy and thought he puts into our relationship is as much for my benefit as for his, and look forward to each lovingly crafted scene that we do together.

His part is much harder than mine, and I know this and am grateful that he cares enough about me to spend his time and energy so freely on me. I have the easier job: to feel, to experience, to let myself go and abandon everything to him. I am his pleasure and his responsibility, and he takes both seriously. I am a submissive woman. I am proud to call myself that. My submission is a gift that I do not give lightly, and can only be given to one who can appreciate that gift and return it tenfold.

Only to he who has that strength will I give myself fully, because I am strong and proud.

I am a submissive woman.

Seeking Spanking

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"For women the best aphrodisiacs are words,
The G-spot is in the ears"~Isabel Allende

Things I Had To Hide
Click Here To Enter

Long Stories


Shaking the Family Tree Chapter I
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter II
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter III
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter IV
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter V
Shaking the Family Tree -The Music Lover

Conjuring Adonis I
Conjuring Adonis II
Conjuring Adonis III
Conjuring Adonis IV

Dream Lover I
Dream Lover II
Dream Lover III

Vlad's Lesson Plan
Vlad's Next Semester
Vlad's Final Lesson
Vlad's Beginning
Vlad's Resurrection Part 1
Vlad's Resurrection Part II

The Libertine of Libby Part 1
The Libertine of Libby Part 2
The Libertine of Libby Part 3
The Libertine of Libby Part 4
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 1
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 2
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 3
The Libertine of Libby Part 5
The Libertine of Libby Part 6
The Libertine of Libby Part 7
The Libertine of Libby Part 8
The Libertine of Libby Part 9
The Libertine of Libby Part 10 (Last Chapter)

j's Seduction
j's Objectification
Recreating j
Educating j

The Photo Shoot Part 1
The Photo Shoot Part 2

Electra's Story Part 1
Electra's Story Part 2

Sunday's Child Part 1

Short Stories
(For those seeking immediate gratification)

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The Book
De Sade, the Orgy and the Trial
I Cum In Peace
Biting My Way Into The New Year
Her Master's Test
Off White, Six Defective Doms and One Pathetic Troll
Going Postal
The New Year's Party

Nocturnal Events
Nocturnal Emissions
Love's Garden
Patty On A Leash/Re-written
To Confess or Not To confess
Binding of Kay
Raising Bella Donna
One Last Good-bye
Spare the Rod, Spoil the Sub
Stella In The Stacks
Red Rain
Breakfast With A Twist
Mon Couer's Papillon (My Heart's Butterfly)
When Daddy's Girl is Bad
The Sitter, The Voyeur and Graduation Day
Please Don't Hurt Me
Cumalot or Knights In Tarnished Armor
Her Halloween Date
His Voice
Life's Little Ironies
The Gift
My Slut ester
Playing With Toyosi
The Slave Auction
#9 - A Detective Story

Ramblings and Observations
(For those who want a piece of My mind)

Puppy Love
Cunniliguis As A Religious Rite
Players, Pretenders and Abusers
Edgeplay and the Knife
My Youth
BDSM Website Security
On Missing Play
Beads a Semi-Fictional Account
Playing With Toyosi or How To Torture A Scammer
Hospital Stories

Photo Interpretations
(As I See It)
La Image'
La Image' II
The Shower
My Toy
Daddy's Girl
Chocolate and Roses
Special Delivery
Waiting II
Edge Play
This Flesh
Not Watching
Tango 2
Inside of You
Mentally bound
His Flower
Her Grief

Poetry of a sort
(very little rhymes)

Faded Words on Yellowing Paper
I Was
submissive position

Ladies of the Night

Bedtime Stories
My Love Fable
Pond of Sorrow and Tears
The Journey

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Extreme Body Modification
(Warning some of these photos may offend, even people with twisted minds)


(They May Spank You For Viewing)

Married Man's Fucktoy
Now Tease Me
Incubus Dreams
Peep Show Stories
Annie's Spanking Good Blog
Vue du dedans
Dee Reawakening
Polyfetishist Directory
The Abyss
Mostly Appropriate
Shadow Of A Soul
Liz Vicious Fan Site
La Libertine's Salon
T of Reknin Day
Siren's Song
The Ties That Bind
Mistress Matisse's Journal
3xL : Lust, Love & Latex
Sensual Liberation Army
News For Perverts
The Spanking Blog
Art Of Love
Spanking Art
Pillow Book

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