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Old 02-22-2007, 09:35 PM   #1
Sickman
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Post Land Of Rape And Honey 1/3

LAND OF RAPE AND HONEY
(Another entry in the diary of SiCkMaN

God, it was beautiful here.

As she swam farther out into the lake, Liane wondered how she could have wanted to miss this. She would have to thank Sharon and Roxy for making her come; it was worth the hassle of buying all the food and scrounging up the camping gear. Not to mention all the extra stuff needed to take a one-year-old into the woods.

But her friends had left her to make the three-hour expedition back into town for groceries and beer, and they had been sweet enough to take Justin with them, so she had the entire little lake to herself. Well, except for the solitary loon that kept to itself on the other side. What a wonderful, haunting call!

She had been sunbathing and in a daring moment, slipped out of her bra "to even up her tan". Not that it was really either very daring, nor going to even her tan. The one kilometer path to the desolate back-road was on the other side of the small lake and the only way across was ten minutes by canoe, so she could easily get decent if anyone came. And she'd so carefully covered her ghostly white breasts with super-delux-water-proof-sun-block-fifty-buzillion that as far they were concerned it was midnight in a cave.

Still, it had felt nice to be naked. To feel the warm sun on them.

And now to feel them float free in the cool water of the lake. They were so huge, now that she was nursing, that it felt odd not to have these mountainous weights of flesh and milk either hanging from her chest or confined in the supposed comfort of modern brassier technology.

She looked at them, floating on the surface, the little waves giving them lives of their own. God they were huge! And the nipples had become these ridiculously long spikes! Hard to believe they had been a shapely C-cup before Justin. At twice the size they were still very firm, swollen with milk, but she wondered if they could possibly ever return to anything even remotely...

"Hey! Check this out guys, we found ourselves a fuckin' mermaid!"

She whirled about to find two canoes coming around the point that they were camped on! All men!

Swim back to her clothes? No, her ass would show and they would know she was naked. Better to just stay put and let them go their way. Dammit!, why had she taken her shorts off? And not put her bra back on? They would have dried. She could have changed.

The lead canoe turned and headed straight toward her. The situation was like a bad dream. Say something? Ask them to leave? Swim to her clothes?

"SOMEBODY LEAVE HIS BITCH OUT HERE IN THE LAKE?" the guy at the front of the lead canoe hollered, watching the shore for any life.

"Well, hey mermaid. Whatcha doing out here all by your lonesome?"

She was tongue-tied. Should she lie and say that her friends were on shore? His manner made her uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable.

"I'd much rather catch a mermaid then a stupid old bass. What do you guys think?"

She dove. Down about three feet and swam in a yellowy gurgling world toward her clothes, watching the shadow of the canoe as she swam under it.

Oh God, they were going to rape her. She knew it; she just knew that if they caught her, they were going to hold her down and gang rape her. Please, she prayed, Please let me get away from them. Please let me make it to the shore.

But her brain was screaming for air and she could not even see the bottom.

Oh dear God, this couldn't be happening!

It was too far. She had to surface. She gulped a few of breaths, checked her course, and dove again. They'd been laughing and yelling. The other canoe was headed across her path. She swam frantically, the fear and the oxygen deprivation mixing like a horrid drug exploding in her skull.

The water started getting shallow and she thought perhaps she could stand up and slog to her clothes, as if just being clothed would armour her against all danger.

She started to stand and a hand grabbed a fist full of blonde hair, painfully pulling her to her feet.

She tried to complain, to beg them to let her go, but her lungs would do nothing but gulp back air. In her fear, frustration and humiliation, she started to cry, making talking even more impossible and deepening her humiliation. She fought to get free of the grip in her hair, to run towards shore.

They were yelling back and forth, eagerly, as if playing a team sport. Something about a hook. And her clothes.

Her head was yanked back so that she fell backwards landing with her spine across the gunwales staring up into a scarred face with savage glee in the dark eyes. She tried to yell for help, and a hand was stuffed into her mouth. Then there was a horrid sharp pain in her cheek and he was pushing her off the boat.

She lunged for the shore, realizing as she did that there was something in her mouth and a string coming out. A fishing lure! They had put a fishing lure in her mouth!

The line went taught and she screamed, as the hooks set deeper into her cheek.

They're crazy, she thought, clutching at the line to relieve the tension. She turned toward the source of the line, and saw the man in the first boat fifty feet away, playing her like a fish as his boat mate paddled away from her. She could not hold the line in her wet hands and so moved toward them trying to get some slack as she crammed her hand into her mouth trying to unseat the vicious hook. Her captor pulled back on the rod and reeled it in, so she had to move still deeper. But again the slack was taken up, and then she lost her footing and was swimming toward the boat, still trying to overcome the pain to tear the cruel barb from her flesh. But the line stayed taught, pulling her by her face, so that the only way for her to relieve the agony was to swim after the boat. She clutched at the line, but it only made him pull harder. One hook had completely pierced her cheek and she was frantic to keep it from tearing her face any worse. Then she thought to wrap the line around her fist for better grip.

At that, he started hauling on the rod, fighting as if he had a marlin on the line.

With both arms she tried to hold her fist to her face, while they towed her across the lake.

And they laughed! She could hear them cackling and hooting as if it was all a wonderful joke: great sport! They were animals! She almost drowned a couple of times, inhaling water in her mindless panic, and they found this uproarious. And the more they laughed, the more terrified she became, realizing their inhuman cruelty. Some small part of her knew she should be completely humiliated at being treated like a fish, but her horror so filled her adrenaline-amped skull that there was scarcely room for anything else.

And he was reeling her in!

His canoe landed at a portage she had not known about across a small bay from the camp. He waded to shore standing in the shallows like Red Fisher, landing her the last twenty feet. He taunted her, calling her a "stupid cuntfish" and a "fuckable Mermaid". Then her elbows hit bottom and he ordered her to kneel. She did as she was told; what else could she do? She was too exhausted to run, she had a fishhook imbedded in her face. She got to her knees with both hands still firmly clutching the line to her face. She was bawling like child, looking up at her slightly geeky looking captor smirking at her, while she tried to catch her breath.

Then he ordered her to put her arms behind her back. When she hesitated, he quietly added that if she did as she was told, he would cut the hook out in two pieces, if not, he would gladly rip half her face away. Scared to the point that she could hardly keep her balance, she unwound her hands and hesitantly lowered them. Could she trust him? Did she have a choice?

Finding her voice, she blubbered out pathetically, "Please! Please don't hurt me! God, I beg you, please! Please let me go! I... I..." and she broke down again falling into the water at his feet.

"What do ya think, guys? Should we let her go? Or would you rather have a camp-slut to take along with us?"

The other three all agreed that a camp-slut sounded like more fun, and they spent a number of minutes discussing what to do. It was decided that they would carry her over the portages to avoid leaving her scent and go back to their camp. They would get the others, and then move camp up to a creek that one of them promised was remote and un-traveled. One of them kept referring to her as "the hole", and the others picked it up.

Their prisoner managed to compose herself during this enough to start begging again, but was quickly silenced with threats of violence and she just knelt there, blubbering to herself.

Then one of them was tying her wrists behind her with fishing line. She just let him. She was naked, kneeling, and surrounded by four grown men, with a fishhook piercing her cheek. They had won. They were going to kidnap her, rape her, and quite likely kill her, and she knew there was nothing she could so about it.

So she just let them tie her and put her into one of the canoes. Ferrari, the guy who had been trolling her came wading over to her with a pair of needle nose pliers cut the barb that was exposed and removed the lure as gently as possible, but it still hurt a hell of a lot. They poured tequila in her mouth and splashed it on her face for disinfectant. Bill, a monkeyish looking guy, had her clothes and makeup bag, which had been with them on the shore, and they told him to stuff her bra in her mouth. They tied her wrists to the cross strut so she was lying face down then two of them picked the thing up by its ends and started up the path. Ten minutes later they were in the water again. A few minutes of paddling, a quick three minute portage, a longer paddle, and then a portage so long that they kept putting her down and switching.

Throughout the trip they joked and laughed about how hard, often, long, deep and painfully they were going to fuck her various holes, and discussed various plans. They told her that if she did everything she was told, didn't complain, never tried to escape, and was the "perfect little eager camp slut", they would let her live. That was the deal. And she made her mind up right then that she would believe them, and try her best. The guy had kept his word on about the hook, after all. She wanted to live! Even being raped and made to suck their cocks was seemed better than never seeing her son again! They said they were going to fuck her ass, and that really scared her. She had never done that, but she knew it would hurt.

For an hour she lay there, her arms painfully numb, listening to her fate while she slowly roasted in the hot sun. Though still deathly afraid (she felt like she wanted to vomit), she calmed substantially; to the point that she could see the absurdity of worrying about not having any sun screen on her ass, while being transported to her gang rape. She wondered how long they would keep her and prayed that none of them had AIDS. God, she was thirsty! She hoped Justin would be O.K. How long ago was her period? She thought she shouldn't be ovulating for another four or five days.

Then they started shouting to someone about the fish they'd landed, and some new guys joined them. Two? Three? She could not tell.

The new guys thought capturing a woman to rape was "fuckin' rockin'! Right fuckin' on!" And somebody grabbed her ass. They begged to see her, but Ferrari, who seemed like a bit of a leader, told them to wait until they got back to camp. This took all of a minute before she was lifted out and stood on a small boulder, surrounded by seven lust-eyed men who pawed and discussed her body in the most disgusting, demeaning terms, as if she were not there.

She closed her eyes, and gritted her teeth, helpless to stop them. But neither could she stop herself from crying in her utter humiliation, her tears flowing freely from her screwed-shut eyes.

Every woman knows that men objectify them, but never, never had Liane felt so thoroughly like a piece of meat. Not a person. Not even an animal. Just a thing. A thing that was made to be ogled, played with, and fucked. She thought, as she would often during her coming ordeal, that her entire life had been a lie. She had always thought herself the equal of men, and before that, boys. Now, standing on a rock surrounded by men who were free of society's constraint, she realized that in truth, they only thought of her as "fuck-meat". That's what one of them called her, and it stuck in her brain. Fuck-meat. Honours in high school, a BA in history, and for what? So she could be well-educated fuck-meat. Smart, stupid, happy, sad, horny, fearful, dead, alive, or tearfully humiliated, they really did not care, so long as she had large breasts and three holes.

And they made it clear both that her holes were acceptable and her breasts were of more than satisfactory size. "Holy fuck, look at the size of those fuckin' jugs", as one put it.

They had a ball when they found out she was lactating. They had milk fights, tugging and mauling her elongated teats with no more regard for her then a water pistol. Her sobbing tears mixed with the milk.

"I've always wanted to be a mother fucker", said one.

"Then lets do it!," another urged, but another said they should wait until they got to someplace private.

"Fuck that!" stark spat; grabbing her around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Or maybe a side of beef.

"Hey, wait! On a sleeping bag. No scent!"

One was quickly spread and she was dumped onto it, cracking her elbow in the fall. But she was given no time to nurse her pain. Stark fell on her, his fatigues around his ankles. He rubbed his soft cock against her while he brutally mashed two handfuls of tender breast, leering down at her with cruel smugness. And in no time he was throbbing hard and ready for rape.

Unlike Liane who had never been less prepared to take a cock inside her. Clenched. Dry as a desert. Oh god, this was going to hurt! She started crying in fear.

He grinned at that, aimed his weapon, and attacked. Determined to take her in a single lunge. Not a chance. The head of his cock jammed at the very entrance to her dry little clam, stopping him dead. Oh, he had thought about slathering a bit of spit on his dick to ease the assault, but this was his first rape and he wanted to do it right. And "right" seemed to be mounting her dry and forcing his way in, causing her the greatest possible amount of pain. Wouldn’t want her to enjoy it; that would defeat the purpose. But he had had no idea about how stubborn an unprepared pussy could be. He shoved, he lunged, he pounded his way into her dry fuck-hole a quarter inch at a time, never yielding a bit though it could only have helped. Hurt? It felt like course sand paper on his dick! But watching his victim writhe on his skewer, screaming from pain, begging for mercy, crying from the humiliation, well, that made it worthwhile. The more he hurt, the more she hurt. And that seemed like a good trade.

Once he had managed to cram a couple of inches in, the battle was as good as won. No worry of his cock bending in half rather than shoving in a little more, he could start fucking her properly, every thrust forcing a little further into her body. She complained at every thrust, music to his ears. She reminded him of a spider pinned to a table, squirming and flailing, desperate to get away. Hopelessly impaled.

Once he was in to the hilt, he started humping her. Her pussy managed to lubricate a little and the pain was not so unbearable. But this only meant she could lie back and thoroughly "enjoy" the emotional hell of her rape. No fear now. In fact a lifetime of fear, of being wary of "bad men" as a child, of avoiding shadows and skirting the ends of dark allies, of crossing streets to avoid dubious characters, of wondering if each new date was actually psychopathic freak, all gone. It was happening, it was all too real, and it was even more horrible than she had ever imagined.

The utter degradation of being taken, used, mounted like an animal had her bawling like a small child.

And she bawled at her absolute, paralyzing helplessness; she wanted to fight back, to beat him off of her, to claw his eyes out, but her hands refused to do anything but clench handfuls of sleeping bag as if to anchor her to sanity. Yes, claw his laughing eyes out. She could do it so easily. By the time he knew, she would have her thumbs buried in his sockets. But she couldn’t. Cowardice that she knew she would never, ever forgive herself. Even as she looked up with revulsion into Stark’s sneering, scar-marked face grunting his satisfaction at his conquest, she knew that if she lived to be a hundred, she would never be able to forget that she had allowed this horrible man to rape her without even a token resistance. She would never stop hating herself for it. "Gutless" kept echoing in her mind.

She bawled because they were laughing at her. Because they were calling her stupid, and a slut, and a cry-baby, and a cunt, and horny and ugly and pathetic. Pathetic. She sure felt pathetic. They cheered Stark on to "give it to her. Harder. She’s lovin’ it!" One even said she must really want it, because she had not even tried to stop him.

She bawled because her mother had warned her about "bad men" and some long-forgotten feeling that Mommy would be disappointed that Liane had allowed herself to get into this situation.

And she bawled because she was bawling. Because she desperately wanted to not cry. To not show them how much anguish they were succeeding in causing her. Not to give them the satisfaction. Not to let them see that they were causing every bit of heart-rending sorrow, self-loathing and humiliation that they could have hoped for. But she wailed it out, a song of victory to her rapists’ ears, too weak of character to stop herself.

Weakness. Too weak to make herself fight back. Too weak to stop crying. Too pathetically weak to do anything but lay there crying, praying for him to finish.

But then the sun on her closed lids was gone and something brushed her lips, and someone was barking "Open up, bitch" and she opened her eyes to find a man on his hands and knees over her head, cock dangling at her mouth. Too cowed to resist, and hating herself for it, she parted her blubbering lips and let him plunge into her face. He shoved it in until she was gagging and then started brutally fucking her head making her violently gag and retch, banishing all her other miseries with a simple, horrible struggle for oxygen.

Stark was just as impressed as she was, but in his case it induced orgasm rather than gagging. And then the guy in her mouth started cumming too so she had guys unloading sperm into her at both ends. She could not swallow properly on her back and got sperm in her trachea so she was coughing and drowning in sperm while her assailants took their pleasure. But she convulsed so violently that her cough reflex did what her brain had not been able to do: get the bastards’ leaking dicks out of her. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and tried to hack the sticky slime from her airway. The initial coughing on her back had blown a goodly amount of the foul stuff up into her sinuses and since sperm is made to stick to moist passages, she was one miserable lady for a number of minutes.

Her captors? They thought it a wonderful joke, suggesting that "Maybe she doesn’t like the taste", and telling her she better get used to it, she would be drinking gallons of it. But they did allow her to basically recover before one of them came to stand in front of her. All she could see was his sneakers astride the little puddle of sperm, snot and saliva that she had managed to expel.

A zipper was lowered

"Get to work, hole!"

She straightened some and looked up. A meaty cock dangled before her.

"Wipe your face", she was ordered. Someone handed her her own shorts. She cleaned herself, had another small coughing fit, and then looked up again at the waiting cock. She’d never been fond of giving blow-jobs - putting a guy’s cock in your mouth was kind of gross - and with only a few exceptions had managed to successfully avoid the practice. But there would be no begging out of this one.

The pendulous cock twitched in anticipation.

The humiliation was rising again. Being forced was bad enough, but now they wanted her to whore herself of her own volition. She should refuse. She should make them beat her senseless rather than give into their demands. But even as she stared at that expectant cock, she knew she would not have the courage. She opened her mouth obediently and moved up to engulf it.

Smack! He slapped her face.

"Hey stupid, did I tell you could suck that? Ask me nice."

God, couldn't she just do it? Wasn't it enough that she would service them? She couldn't beg for it!

Smack! He slapped her again. And Again.

She burst into gasping tears, but with eyes shut she managed to blubber out,

"May I suck your cock?"

Smack! "What's the magic word, slut?" With her eyes closed, every slap was a shocking surprise.

She swallowed hard, as if literally swallowing her pride, and muttered, "Please."

He swung his shoe into her crotch, yelling, "'Please' what, Cunt? And say it fuckin' loud."

"Please...please, may I suck your cock?" she forced out, and broke down crying.

"Do you really want to?"

"Yes", she said with resignation.

"Why?", and he slapped her.

Why? So he would stop hitting her. Why. What did he want to hear?

"Why, you stupid cunt?" and he buffeted her face over and over.

"Because...", he wanted something degrading, " because I am a ... I am f..fuck-meat."

"Very good!", her choice of words had impressed him. He stopped his assault and almost purred to her, "Beg me once more, real nice..."

Mixed in with her long, racking sob/breathes, she managed to get out

"Please, ..I...I really want ..to suck your big.. cock, because I am... I'm your camp... your stupid camp-slut fuck-meat. Please?". The 'please' was quite heart-felt, though she meant it as 'please stop hitting me'.

"No. Lick my balls, hole."

Yes, anything so long as he stopped hitting her and yelling at her. She could never stand people yelling at her. Her father used to...

"That's good. That's a good little bitch. Oh yeah."

Someone guided her hand to a another hard cock. Then her other hand. Someone was reaching around to finger her pussy. Hands pawed her breasts. Mr. Balls was pushed out of the way and replaced by a cock. She sucked this until Mr. Right Hand shoved this guy away, and stepped up.

Smack! "Open your fuckin' eyes, bitch, and look at me". Her last refuge gone, she looked up through bleary eyes at a laughing, mocking face.

Then another cock, and another. New ones? Repeats? Just an endless procession of cocks which she sucked as best she could, which was never good enough.

Smack! "Watch your fuckin' teeth". Smack! "Deeper". Smack! "Harder" Smack! "Not so hard." Smack! Smack! "Stop crying". Smack! "Your too ugly". Smack! "Open your God (Smack!) damned (Smack!) eyes! (Smack!)"

They made her kneel so they could fuck her while she sucked. Stark’s sperm greased her pussy, and without having to look at her rapist’s taunting face made it less humiliating. It was more like just another bad fuck; she'd had had a few of those before this! One sawed away in her womb, while another fucked her face. She was just expected to kneel with her head back and let them use her. Being used like this was still horrible, but it was better than when they were hitting her and yelling at her.

Two holed fuck-meat, she thought.

The one in her mouth shoved into her throat and came, holding her by the back of the skull. She choked a little, but she swallowed. Then another was probing her lips. Another in her pussy. Another in her mouth. He pulled out and squirted her face with scum.

When one started poking at her asshole, she whined her protest around the cock she was sucking, but she did nothing to stop him. Until he shoved the head in in none too gentle a manner, ripping her sphincter. She shrieked and lurched away from the violating prod, ripping her face off a cock to beg them to spare her. Hands descended on her, holding shoulders, waist, hips and thus immobilized like a sacrificial beast, her anus was summarily slaughtered, shoved full of thick cock while she screamed, begged and blubbered. After a while the muscles adapted and the intense tearing pain ebbed to raw scraping at every thrust. And she was grabbed by the hair and cock again skewered her face.

They made her sit on a guy's cock, so another could fuck her asshole. She couldn't believe how much cock she had in her. The one in her ass came and the next guy, to the delight of his fellow rapists, worked his cock into her pussy along side the one she was sitting on. That really rubbed her raw, but they both came almost immediately.

The one in her mouth tasted like dirt, which seemed odd, but she kept sucking.

"You like that, slut? You like sucking your own shit off my stick?"

Oh God, he hadn't! She tried to back away but he held her head like a basketball, bouncing it on his filthy dick. She could not imagine anything more disgusting!

And another in her ass. God, when would they stop? Her pussy and asshole were fucked raw, her jaw was totally cramped, she had a headache (from having her head tipped back? From the sun? From the emotional stress?, From being slapped so much? Probably all of the above.), her knees were killing her, and yet the cocks just kept coming. And cumming.

But eventually they did slow. First she had one unused orifice, then, a couple of cocks later, two. Finally she swallowed a measly little squirt and there were no more cocks coming at her.

She collapsed, and they left her alone; they were packing up camp. She was so hot!

"excuse me," she said timidly, sitting up, "excuse me, but could I have something to drink?"

The few that had heard looked at each other in indecision.

She wouldn't be much good to them if she got dehydrated, she thought.

"Yeah, I got something for ya." The scary bald one cackled. He cackled every time he spoke, like some demented hillbilly.

But he came to the blanket empty handed. Unzipping his fatigues, he fished out his cock, laughing maniacally.

No. He couldn't mean...but, God, he couldn't...

She started backing away from him, but a hand grabbed her hair and a low, threatening voice murmured,

"Listen, cunt, your going to wrap your lips around that cock and drink every fuckin' drop. If I see even one drip on your chin, I'm going to whip your titties so hard they'll fuckin' bleed. Understand, cunt? Good. Hey Greg, let her come to you, man. Make her beg you."

How could they always make it worse? It wasn't enough that they were going to make her drink urine, but she had to ask for it. Well, she knew what they wanted, and as humiliating as it was to beg him the way they wanted, it was not nearly so repulsive as actually making herself perform the required act. So she crawled over to Greg and looking up at him, took a deep breath and recited,

"Please, may I drink your...your piss? Please let me, 'cause I’m... I’m just a stupid cunt."

"Sure", and he cackled as if this was a terribly humorous response.

She looked at the proffered thick worm, trying to summon her courage. How could she actually put that thing in her mouth and let him...oh God, it was too disgusting to even think about, but as if a puppet on a string, she inched forward and with a shudder of determination, she put her lips around the wrinkled sausage. And waited.

"Look at him." The voice instructed. "From now on, I want you to look into the eyes of whoever is using you. Understand? If I catch with your eyes closed again, You WILL wish you were dead."

She looked up at the crazy just as the hot bitter fluid jetted into her mouth. Then she was gulping it back to stop from drowning, and except for the foul taste, it didn't much matter how disgusting it was.

And then he was finished.

"Thank him..."

"Thank you for letting me drink your piss"

"Did you like that?"

She said emphatically "no".

"Do you think that if you did that often enough you might get used to it?"

Definitely not.

"Good. Guys, nobody pisses except in her mouth, and she doesn't drink anything except piss"

"Right on," They really liked that. She wanted to throw up.

"Find out if any one else will let you drink."

She got three more servings, so that she had swallowed quarts of piss by the time they were done.

Then they left her alone while they finished breaking camp. How long were they going to keep her? She couldn't stand this for too long. Maybe it would be better if they just killed her.
http://www.rapeboard.com/showthread.php?t=4595

http://diaryofsickman.com

Last edited by Sickman; 01-19-2010 at 10:42 AM.
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Old 01-19-2010, 10:44 AM   #2
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Part 2 is at http://www.rapeboard.com/showthread.php?t=4595
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Old 01-19-2010, 06:04 PM   #3
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A couple of days ago I spent an evening looking for stories in the last few pages of these boards, and I found your three stories. Boy am I glad I did! What a coincidence that you bumped it just now.

Your writing is exquisite and the story was very exciting on so many levels, right up until the end I kept getting surprised by the turns of events. It was nice to read a story that didn't end with the victim getting all excited about her situation. I especially liked the relationship between the victim and "the coach"; it seemed to balance on the verge of affection while still being so far from it.

This post got pretty long but I just wanted to applaud good writing!
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