Tag: #MasturbationMonday

[Erotica] Slut in the Attic

Image via Pixabay

Content Warning: Kidnap, Captive Woman, Non-Consent, Humiliation, Degradation. Please do not read if you think any of these things might be triggering for you x


He doesn’t lock the door. He used to lock it religiously. The realisation that he knows he no longer needs to lock me in fills me with shame.

Shame makes my cunt ache with need.

Rope is used to bind me, but it is a loose tie. I can use my toilet, and move around my surroundings, but I would not be able to walk with any efficiency, and I certainly would not be able to run. More importantly though the amount of movement I have means I can reach my cunt, I move my fingers there and find it is still swollen from use, and his ejaculate drips from me, sticky and warm.

Continue reading “[Erotica] Slut in the Attic”

[Erotica] Sexy Explorations

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I wasn’t sure I had a Monday post in me this week, my preference is to write something I can share to Masturbation Monday and as gorgeous as this weeks prompt photo is I couldn’t seem to write anything in response to it, I think perhaps the gorgeousness of it overwhelmed me. After recently trying my hand at #friflash run by F Dot Leonora and writing a review for another blogger, I wanted to challenge myself with my blog post this week.

I was initially going to give myself a word limit, but in the end I decide to use my two Storyin12 attempts from last week to inspire me. What actually happened is that I also wrote a Storyin12 for each of last weeks prompts. Those pieces are in block quotes through the writing below and the prompt word in in bold. 

Please bear with me if this doesn’t flow as well as my free formed erotica. One thing I learnt from engaging in the Smut Marathon earlier this year is that I don’t necessarily respond as well as I could to constraints placed upon my writing. That is something I would like to get better at, and I want to learn how to be more creative in my approach when certain limitations are in place. 

A big shout to @Mollysdailykiss and @Wriggly_Kitty who run the Storyin12 prompt over on Twitter. Thank you for today’s inspiration. 


‘You want to do that nasty thing? Love it! Let’s do it!’

The image he’d sent to me instantly caused a reaction in many parts of my body. I couldn’t remember the last time something ignited desire in me this quickly.  There was a man strapped to a single bed. Bare mattress, metal bed frame, no carpet on the floor, the surroundings looking more warehouse than our house. It was clear even from the still image that the woman in the photo had been doing unspeakable things to him. She hovered above his open mouth, and it wasn’t entirely clear but I was certain she was urinating on him. We’d never done anything quite that kinky before, and I thought I should be nervous or uncertain but I was only excited and eager to explore.

Continue reading “[Erotica] Sexy Explorations”

[Erotica] Peeping

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Who else is Masturbating this Monday?
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Inspired by this weeks Masturbation Monday prompt, which was provided by Life of Elliot.

Please do check out the other Masturbation Monday entries for some seriously sexy reads, and of course to see the image that inspired my post.

 

 

 

Creeping.

Peeping.

Bad girl should be sleeping.

His low moans entice me,

Invite me; to watch and wonder

About hands that touch and plunder.

Not mine to see, delicious, thick and veiny.

Not mine to lick, that tasty looking dick.

Not mine.

Not mine.

A tantrum begins to rise.

I want … I want … his cock inside my cunt.

I wait with bated breath, with a low moan he mumbles ‘yes’

Lube has made him slicker, and his hand moves so much quicker.

I see you on his screen, big titties that make him cream.

Touching myself as I grow wetter.

Though his touch would be so much better.

Kneeling on the floor, coming outside his door.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This bad girl is out of luck.

Through lust blurred eyes he sees me

And grins at me quite wickedly

Pumping.

Pumping.

Pumping.

I can see he’s close to coming.

Sometimes bad girls are rewarded, with a treat that is rather sordid.

Maybe next time I’ll be invited, when his cock is eager and excited.

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[Erotica] A Friend in Need

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I closed the door behind me, leaning against it as I did so and closing my eyes. I was leaving my friend’s house to get ready for a date I didn’t want to go on, in an outfit I didn’t want to be wearing, to eat food I wasn’t hungry for and to drink wine I didn’t want, but would most definitely need!

As I stood there contemplating why on earth I was doing this to myself, I made a split second ‘fuck it’ decision. I grabbed my phone out of my bag, sent an all to brief apology cancelling my date ‘because a friend needed me’, which, in my defence wasn’t entirely false and knocked on the door to be let back in.

Continue reading “[Erotica] A Friend in Need”

[Erotica] Addressing His Needs

SinfulSundayLips150I often mention Sinful Sunday on my blog, either when submitting and image or as part of #SoSS posts when I am able to do them. When perusing the submissions for the first weekend of June, which was prompt week, one particular image inspired a line of thinking that ended up being a full blown story. Cousin Pons posted a picture of his feet titled ‘Underneath the Arches‘, and it got me to pondering what a story where a man feet were the catalyst for action. While that isn’t necessarily the story I ended up with, I am actually very fond of the piece of fiction below that did transpire from that initial idea. Thank you Cousin Pons for triggering some inspiration and very much hope you don’t mind me mentioned you image as my starting point for this piece.


Dinner has been served and devoured. As always his culinary skills are only outdone by his commitment to serving me. He works long days, as well as performing his duties for me, and it is appreciated that he never waivers in what is asked of him. He is instructed to sit and relax for a few moments while I prepare myself for our session.

When I return to him he has fallen asleep. Dozing peacefully in his favourite chair, his feet resting on the large footstool in front of him.

Continue reading “[Erotica] Addressing His Needs”

[Review] I Have Fallen in Love!

It’s true. I have fallen in love. Truly, madly, deeply in love with my new Doxy.

1526923841678.jpegI wouldn’t normally discuss a product for a Masturbation Monday post. I tend to go for a piece of erotica in the hope that some of you will put your hands in your pants while reading it. Sometimes though we are left with no choice but to mix things up.

Continue reading “[Review] I Have Fallen in Love!”

[Erotica] I Wish I’d Taken the Photo

I wish I’d taken the photo.

He’s lying on his back, one arm at his side, the other folded under his head. The fact it is post sex means he is beautifully naked. Exactly as he should be all the time in my opinion. The gym sessions are showing, muscle definition is popping in all the right places. In all honestly I want to have the sex all over again as I look at him.

I wish I’d taken the photo.

Why is it then, if he is so glorious, that I am thinking of you?

Continue reading “[Erotica] I Wish I’d Taken the Photo”

[#SoSS] You Are EPIC!

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Wonderful, lovely and sexy readers, get ready to open multiple browser tabs and be prepared for a roller-coaster ride of sexy and emotional blog posts. I have an an EPIC week (yes it did need the capitalisation) of blog reading and I am about to hit you all with some awesome and in some cases intense posts from some fabulous people.

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Get involved with Masturbation Monday

Oh, Cousin Pons what a delightfully smutty blog you have. This weeks offering to Masturbation Monday from Pons was ‘Hornithology’, now while it did leave me with more questions than answers, it did also give me the horn. So that’s a win. You can also see more of Cousin Pons if you pop along and browse through the Sinful Sunday submissions. Would anybody like to see his bottom? If so head to his blog now.

Continue reading “[#SoSS] You Are EPIC!”

#Masturbation Monday: The Crack in the Door …

Masturbation-Monday-banner-1This post was inspired by #MasturbationMonday, to join in or to see more of the posts written for this go to http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com


‘Fuck You! Fuck! You!’

It was an interesting choice of words, given that no one was fucking anyone, and I had my suspicions this wasn’t about to change anytime soon. Despite the fact my cunt was dripping wet, and his cock was hard.

I could feel my wetness again my thighs, despite the fact I was wearing underwear. I knew he’d be able to see this. He’d manhandled, roughly me into a chair and tied me down. Spreading my legs as he did so, in a way that made my skirt ride up, leaving my wet through panties in full view.

As he’d tied my arms down and restrained my torso against the hard back of the chair, he’d pulled my vest top and bra away from my body, revealing hard, eager nipples. Another betrayal of my obvious arousal.

I felt exposed, and slightly ashamed at the predicament I’d found myself in. I hadn’t expected to be caught as I peered through the crack of his door. Here I was though, my voyeurism having backed fired. What I wanted to see and watch in secret, I was now being forced to watch, with no choice to turn away. I felt sick with dread, yet I couldn’t deny that I was also enthralled and exhilarated.

The video on the computer screen had been paused. Even paused between two motions she was stunning. Her lingerie skimming gracefully across the perfect curves of her body. Whenever I looked at her I ached from both envy and arousal. When she had told me of her intentions to make him this video I was torn. I knew if I asked to see it she would say yes. We didn’t keep things from each other that might make us anxious. At the same time though I knew for it to be most effective it needed to be private between the two of them. I wanted to respect this, I really did, but the part of me that enjoyed self-torture decided voyeurism would win out.

There I was, heart pounding, cunt aching, getting wet from the anticipation of what I would witness. When he pressed play on the video I couldn’t help but gasp at how unlike her usual self she was. Usually coy and playful in her submission, this new version of her was brazen, with an air of Dominance I never could have imagined her to have. That gasp, that one, small, barely audible gasp gave me away.

I was frozen to the spot as I saw him pause the video and get up from his chair. In a split second he was in front of me, hand gripping my hair as he dragged me to the chair he was to tie me too. As I was the one who had been caught, my rage was unwarranted, but I felt defiant. He could tie me down, and force me to watch, but I would not give away how I felt inside. This tangled web of shame and arousal was mine, I didn’t want to share it.

‘You want to watch do you? Well let’s make it easy for you. Such a dirty girl, being a secret voyeur. To think, I thought I knew all your perversions.’

That was when the words those word of defiance left my mouth. ‘Fuck You. Fuck. You.’ I paid for my defiance with his hand across my face. With the initial contact and the sting it left, my cunt throbbed. He rarely got this rough with me, but when he did it aroused every inch of me.

Once I was firmly tied to the chair, in a position that meant I would be able to see him, but not the computer screen. His hand gripped my neck, as his mouth fell to my ear with a whisper. With the low, menacing voice that made me melt, he made it very clear that I would question my decision to sneak around.

‘You will sit. You will watch. Your cunt will ache, all the while knowing you will be punished for your behaviour. You’re a disgrace. I can see how fucking wet you are already. You had better enjoy the show, because you will pay for it.’

His words were humiliating, they made the shame of my desires rise inside me, and that humiliation and shame only fuelled my arousal. I also knew that whatever punishments followed would do the same.

He fell back into his chair, his cock still hard, it hadn’t softened at all while he was reprimanding and tying me. The video began to play and her words filled the air. Her soft voice, unusually hard,  as she spoke to him. She spoke of how badly he wanted her, how much he loved to fuck her, of how wet he made her and of how hard she made him. That last statement, evidently a fact from what I saw in front of me.

He was solid. His hand gripping and stroking his length. I struggled against my restraints. Caught between wanting to get to him and wanting to escape the situation I had found myself in. He didn’t even notice, he was lost in pleasure, he was lost in her and I wanted to feel bad about this, but I just felt more turned on.

It made me think of all the times she’d visited, and despite the expectation that I would join them, I would on occasion excuse myself. I’d lie there in my room listening to them as they played and fucked. A feeling of emotional masochism would rise inside me, and part of me would long to run to them and join in, but the part of me that won was the part of me that revelled in the feelings that arose in me. It always felt a little bit taboo, the only kink that felt dirty and grubby, and far from being a bad thing, those feelings seem to flutter against my skin, causing every inch of me to feel charged with an erotic energy I just can’t find in other explorations in solo play.

Bringing myself back to the present, I watched, eyes unblinking as he followed her instructions to touch himself, to think of her. I listened as she started to touch herself, as she moaned and gasped, as she breathlessly told him how she did this to thoughts of him all the time. I knew this to be true. I’d even helped her do just that on more than one occasion. Our phone calls would often descend into masturbation sessions, each helping the other along by describing various scenarios that we knew would get the other off. She always came hardest when my words were about him.

I knew his touch so well that is wasn’t hard to describe it in great detail. I’d watched them interact so often that I knew how his hands moved across her, and how she responded when he did so. I loved reminding her of how he’d tease her, how he’d gently, softly trace the lines of her body, watching as she become more and more frustrated, trying to move her body towards his to no avail, before she would finally give in and beg for his touch to be firmer and more fruitful.

Now I ached for them both, I longed to lie beside them as their bodies moved together. Her hands always finding me, her nature to be kind and inclusive never getting lost even when she was being fucked into spacey incoherence. It was mesmerising to watch them, as they moved just as they would against me, as their hands and mouths engaged in actions I knew so well for myself. There were many times I’d become so lost in watching, that I would forget to join in. My hands would move to touch and explore, but instead of reaching for their bodies I’d reach for my own. Sometimes I was permitted to amuse myself, more often than not their lips and hands would pull me back to them, and I’d become lost in the pleasure we created together.

My restraints were biting into my flesh, the ropes digging in more than he probably anticipated due to my relentless wriggling. The pain was sweeter than I could even begin to explain, in vast contrast to the unyielding burning in my cunt, that sought release. A release I felt I would not be granted. His release however was ebbing ever closer, and I could barely allow myself to blink for fear of missing it. I hated the ropes that bound me for holding me back from him, I wanted to move closer, I wanted to be nearer to him as I watched his orgasm take hold.

His head had fallen back against the headrest of his chair, the moans of self pleasure were falling from his lips, as his mouth fell open ever so slightly. I long to kiss those lips, to hold his face in my hands, as he brought himself to climax. He was getting close, I could see it in the way his body was shifting, the muscles that were tensing, the changes in his breathing. She was still there, encouraging him, beautifully seductive, simultaneously debauched and sensual.

The way his hands were moving as he pleasured himself was at the moment the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen. He was so hard, his tip glistening, pre-cum oozing from him, in a manner so enticing that it felt like it was present only to tease me. I longed to take him in my mouth, to lick him, to fuck him. This current predicament seeming ludicrous as a different being awoke within me, a being that wanted action and touch, not visual stimulation that did nothing but tease and torture.

All at once though, before I was truly ready for it to be over, it was. With a change of tone that caught me off guard, she had ordered him to come, and he had obeyed. He was gripped in throes of a climax so strong I thought he might pass out, he looked glorious. He was usually the embodiment of power and control, he was so very careful as to how and when he let himself go. He seemed so free in that moment though, as if all the stresses and strains of life had been sucked from him and expelled with the force of his orgasm.

His eyes opened, and his gaze met mine, a smile spread across his face as he looked at me, and my heart filled with joy, and now I wanted to be free to hold him close and love him as hard as he came.

‘Well that was new … and fun. You’re still in trouble for being a sneaky pervert, but your punishment can wait … for now.’

With that he moved from his chair, and came towards me and began removing the rope that bound me. As he unveiled the rope marks that had been caused by my constant tugging and twisting, he rubbed them tenderly and planted kisses upon them too.  

Once I was free to move, he took my hand and led me to his bed, where we both fell into the kind of cuddle that made for perfect aftercare,  and then we called the other person who had been involved in our impromptu scene, and she squealed with delight at how naughty the whole thing was.

We hung up the phone and in seconds he was upon me. Pinned beneath him, his eyes were steely, with that hint of danger that made my stomach flip with anticipation. His hands moved to find I was still wet, wetter than I’d been in a long time. His fingers started to move against me and inside me, while his mouth started to whisper vulgar profanities against my ear.

He made me relive every moment, he forced me to face why I’d been there. He dug around inside my head, while his fingers fucked me, and I betrayed my own desire to keep my secrets as I realised he knew them all already. With every orgasm he tore from my body, whether I was ready to give into them or not, he showed me that I could not hide from him. When he choked me, and slapped me, tied me and teased me, he peeled away the layers of who I showed the world I was, until he was left with the me I truly I am.

I lay in a heap, half naked and very bedraggled. I felt elated both at having shared this previously secret kink with two people so close to me, but also at having kept my bedroom ‘voyeurism’ of listening in on them a secret. I felt like divulging quite how far this went would possible spoil its allure for me. As I lay there immobilised by all the sensations that had taken hold of me since I’d be caught peering through the crack in the door, my phone pinged with a tone reserved on for her.

‘I knew you weren’t tired all those nights you excused yourself. Pervert! I know your secret. I’ll keep it though. This will be fun.’

It seemed I was to have a partner in voyeuristic crime, and despite previous reservations, I could not wait. Her next visit would definitely be a very fun adventure.


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This weeks post writing masturbation photo comes courtesy of the Satisfyer Pro 2, which is so awesome I can barely stop writing long enough to write my review for it, but I promise it will be with you soon.

[Erotica] All It Takes Is The Right Toy …

 

I’ve got the sex toys. I’ve got the porn, or the sexy imagination depending on my mood. The ambience is set, the lube is out. I’ve got everything, except the orgasm. It’s time to admit defeat. I’m bored and I know the reason why. I’ve got a better toy, a bigger toy, a living, breathing, all mine sex toy of a boy. That is what I need.

There is only one problem with this need. He has been very naughty lately, and that has me questioning how much he deserves to give me the attention I need. I think on this for a while, but it can’t be denied, the more I think about him, the wetter I get, in some way, shape or form, I need him here for this.

I glance at the clock and realise whatever he might be doing won’t be as interesting or as important as serving his Mistress, so I send the slave summons, a bit like the bat signal but for an eager to please slave boy.

Fifteen minutes later and his key turns in my door, I can hear him following standard protocols as he undresses, folding his clothes and leaving them in a neat pile by the door. The thought of him naked and eager makes my cunt twitch. It’s going to be hard not to use him fully, but I must be strict, I can’t have him thinking he will be rewarded for misbehaviour.

As soon as my eyes are upon him my resolve is truly tested, he is glorious. His caged cock already looks like the metal surrounding it might be no object to its arousal. His eyes are shining with excitement, always anticipating what might await him, even when what awaits him is frustration and denial.

I direct him to the chair beside the bed, and I fix the restraints in place. He might be a slave, but he’s a bratty, horny slave, and has on occasion broken free from minimal restraint, or found himself unable to resist temptation on the occasions no restraints were used. While his attention is always pleasurable, he really does need to learn his place. Which means he now is always fully immobilised when we play. Today though I do leave his head free to move, as I want him to be able to see me at all times.

Once he is firmly tied to the chair, I remove his cock cage. He gasps and moans as I do so, his cock is hard, his eyes are pleading, and breathlessly he whispers ‘Please … Mistress’ it’s then that I know this is going to be just the release I need.

I run my finger gently along his cock, and he twitches against my touch, I can sense him holding his breath in anticipation of what I might do, of what pleasures I might permit him, and without a second though my hand slaps his shaft and I feel his breath fall from his mouth warm against my breast.

I move my hand into my bra and start to play with my nipples, his mouth hangs open, his eyes are fixed, I can see how badly he wants them. He wants my nipples, hard and erect, to brush against his lips, as his tongue darts out to lick him. For me to force them into his mouth, holding his head firmly to my chest, his breathing restricted, his only choice to keep on licking, to keep on pleasuring, to keep on fucking my boobs with his tongue, because it might be the only action he gets for a while. I deny him this today though. As intend to deny him everything, but the chance to watch.

I open the drawer beside the bed, and I hear him groan, as he realises what I’m likely to be reaching for. I lay out my choice of toys on the bed, including the dildo so similar in length and girth to his own cock, that using it in front of him feels even crueller than a bigger one.

I lie on the bed besides the dildo, vibrators and lube. Scantily clad but still clothed I start running my hands across my body, and already things feel different to my failed attempt at masturbation. My body is starting to ache, the need is building inside me, the power I hold over him is setting me on fire, that is what was missing.

My hands move over my knickers and I feel how wet I am through the material, and I know he will be able to see it too. I taunt him with it, asking him if he sees how wet it makes me to have called him here, to have restrained him and made him hard. Hard before I’d even touched him, moaning at one, slight, gentle, touch. All he can say is ‘Yes Mistress’, and that alone arouses me further.

I slide my wet knickers down my legs, and I can feel his eyes are fixed on me, watching, waiting, so keen to see what he probably now realises he cannot have. Once my knickers are removed I kneel up on the bed, lean forward and force them into his mouth, they are not efficient enough to be a gag, but they are very efficient at torturing him with my taste, forcing thoughts into his mind of his mouth on my cunt, of those days were good behaviour were rewarded with oral servitude.

Falling back onto the bed, my hands reach for a vibrator and soon enough the familiar buzzing of a favourite toy fills the air. I can hear the chair creaking as he pulls against his restraints, knowing with great satisfaction that his predicament will be bringing him both pleasure and frustration. The vibrator is alternating between my clit, and sliding inside me. My hips are moving ever more eagerly against the sensations this is causing.

I lift my head, and one look at has me rocketing from close to climax to being in the grip of orgasm. His muscles are tense as he pulls against his restraints, his eyes filled with a look I love, the that verges on fury as he becomes more and more desperate to touch, and lick, and fuck, the tip of cock glistening with precum, and I almost laugh as the orgasm ripples through me knowing that precum is as far as he gets to go.

I see him relax a little, as my body shudders in the after effects of climax. I wonder if he thinks the tease is over, if I’ll play with him, or even better set him free to play with me. Instead I fix my gaze on him and take the dildo that so perfectly resembles his own cock and grip it tightly in my hand, again he groans. I know that groan, I know how badly he wants my hand wrapped around his cock, how desperately he wants me to move up and down his hard, desperate erection, edging him, teasing him, whispering humiliating phrases until I finally let him fall over the edge, covering him in his own cum.

Instead he gets to watch me slide that dildo inside my hot, wet cunt, over and over again. I want it to be him, and I tell him so. I wish it was his cock covered in my wetness, filling me, stretching me, making the pleasure inside me rise. I re-position myself, kneeling on the edge of the bed, so I can alternate between lifting myself on and of the perfectly positioned dildo, and grinding down onto it. In this position I can lean forward and rest my hands on his knees, giving me more leverage and control over fucking the dildo.

I can’t help but stare at his face, his expression is pained, and it is another level of arousing to know how I am affecting him. There is a wicked and insatiable pleasure in causing him this kind of frustration, as I get close to another orgasm, this one much stronger than the last, I breathlessly tell him that I wish he could cum too. Oh how I’d love to give in, to let him cum with me, on me, inside me, but no, he had to ruin it, he had to be bad, he had to earn himself his longest ever stretch of punishment. Even this, berating him as I fuck myself with a dildo, is getting him more aroused. I glance down and see his cock, hard, twitching, pulsating and I wonder if he might cum without a physical stimulus.

The curiosity outweighs my desire to deny him, also I feel like if I succeed it would be something of a ruined orgasm, and the idea of that feels just as satisfying as denial. So I continue to verbally berate him, between my own gasps and moans, I tell him how  badly I need him to fuck me, how he needs to be good boy so I can reward him with the chance to lick, finger and fuck my cunt. The more I talk the redder his face gets, filling with anguish and desperation, his desire and submission causing his mind to empty of everything except want and need. I point these facts out to him, how all he wants is to touch me, how he can’t, how he won’t. Ever.

We both know that’s a lie but in the moment it feels so true, and it takes him further into his desperate desire, and the more I gasp, and moan and lean against him as I whisper obscenities that humiliate, tease and torture him, the more I turn myself on. Until no more words are needed, because I hear him mumbling into his knicker filled mouth and it sounds like ‘Nooo, shit, fuck … sorry Mistress’ and I look down in time to see cum spurting from his cock, and that sight is all it takes for me to follow suit, another orgasm is mine, my body finding the satisfaction that escaped it earlier.

Sometimes all it takes is the right toy, and sometimes the right fuck toy is a slave boy.

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F.Y.I – While this is an entirely fictional masturbation account, after I wrote I did actual masturbation, in my Harry Potter t-shirt, not sure while that’s relevant, but it feels appropriate to mention.

 


This post was originally written for Masturbation Monday, each week you can find wonderful and sexy stories submitted by a host of talented writers. Please do follow the link below and show you support for all those who get involved.

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Who else is Masturbating this Monday?

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