Even worse!
Chapter 20

Copyright© 2013 by Mr. Mister

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 20 - The Reverend Richard's family is back from vacation. Now time to put the plan they decided on into action. Story codes added as it progresses.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Mind Control   Rape   Reluctant   Science Fiction   Cheating   Slut Wife   Wife Watching   Incest   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   Father   Daughter   Cousins   Uncle   Niece   Aunt   Nephew   MaleDom   Light Bond   Group Sex   Orgy   Swinging   Interracial   Black Male   White Male   White Female   Oriental Male   Oriental Female   Hispanic Male   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   First   Oral Sex   Big Breasts   Public Sex   Size  

Friday, August, Year 0

Turbo was in heaven. Tim’s dick filled her pussy to bursting, and had been doing so for the last several hours. She could barely think, all her awareness centered around the flesh column pulsing, throbbing in time with Tim’s heartbeat, and hers. It was as though her own heart heard, sympathized and emulated the vibrations coming from her core.

That was how it started. Tim had stripped and sat on a large, soft cushion. He had Turbo stroke him hard, an easy task, quickly accomplished. Then he had her get naked too, and sit on his dick, face to face. She curled her legs around his waist, indian-style. He did the same, under her butt. Turbo tried to bounce, but Tim stopped her.

“No active fucking.” He instructed. “This is about achieving a meditative state. Be still.”

He looked at Lamai, waiting patiently.

“Are you wet, Lam?”

“Oh god, yes!” She rubbed her crotch.

“Good.” He smiled. “Get your clothes off, and come here.”

He’d had the teen stand right between their seated bodies. She faced Turbo, and leaned over, using the other girl’s shoulders for balance. Tim had Lam rub her soaking wet genitals all over his nose and mouth.

“You taste like sex, distilled. I want that coating my tongue and filling my nose so all I can smell is sex, sex, sex.” He explained.

Lam giggled, but complied. She pressed her folds against his lips and chin and nestled his nose between her labia. She smeared it all around until she was practically humping his face. He gave her gash a long lick, sliding his entire tongue into her hole.

“Okay, good.” He smacked her ass. “Yummy, now dim the lights, and wrap yourself around behind me.”

Lam snuggled right up against his back. Her pebbled nipples, brown and hard poked holes in his broad lats. She even tried to get her pussy against his buttocks, but the angle, with her legs underneath and outside his own, didn’t work.

“It’s no fair.” She whined. “Why does she get to sit on you? It was my idea!”

“Shush.” Tim smiled. “It was a very good idea. But since I ripped her heart out earlier, I think she deserves this.”

“What?!” Lam sat up, staring at Turbo. “When did this—h”

“Sh.” Turbo covered Lam’s lips with a finger. “It’s okay. We didn’t know it would happen. It gave us proof that we’d succeeded with the Ritual. I think you were still asleep when it happened.”

“Omkay.” She agreed around Turbo’s digit.

“Now,” Tim instructed, “no rubbing, no grinding, no humping, no moving at all. Just breathe with me. Close your eyes, and just breathe.”

The girls obeyed, synchronizing their breathing with his. And for a long time, nothing changed.

Then Tim sat up even straighter, took a deep, deep breath and as he exhaled, slumped unconscious. His weight settled against Lam, and even with Turbo’s legs around his waist, it quickly got really heavy.

“I ... can’t ... hold ... him ... up.” Lam warned.

Turbo moved her legs aside.

“It’s okay. Lay him down.”

Lam slid out from behind him, laying him out on the cushions.

“What now?” Lam asked.

“I don’t know.” Turbo replied, realizing. “I’m afraid to get off his dick, in case it goes down and that wakes him up.”

“Did he cum in you?” Lam inquired.

“No, that’s why I don’t wanna move.”

“Well,” Lam’s eyes glinted, hungrily, “since I have you trapped...”

Lam slid her body across Tim’s torso. She kept her crotch aimed right at his face, just in case that whole ‘smell’ thing was necessary. She tucked her chin right in to the cleft between Tim’s pubes and Turbo’s pussy lips. She collected the stream of cunt cream dribbling down Tim’s dick to pool on his skin. Her tongue traced up, ending at Turbo’s erect clit.

“Oh god, love, that feels so good!” Turbo hissed.

Smiling to herself, Lam reached around and grabbed both globes of Turbo’s ass.

It’s gonna be a long night, let’s see how many orgasms I can give you.


Tim breathed in and out, long and deep. He knew, intellectually that meditation involved clearing his mind. But you try doing it with your cock all up in some tight slut’s pussy while your face is coated with another’s spend. Every sense, except sight since his eyes were closed, was inundated with sexual sensations. So, he tried a different track. He thought of pussy. Tight pussy, gripping his prick. Hot pussy, scalding his shaft. Wet pussy, dripping all over him. Hungry pussy, eager for his rod. Thirsty pussy, begging for his cum. Perfect pussy, that never tired of fucking.

Never.

Tired.

And the floor fell away below him. He floated, on a cushion of air it seemed, until he came to rest on a couch. He opened his eyes, warily. Stone floor below. Looked like granite, covered in large, lewd rugs. Woven pictures of naked people cavorted in exquisite detail. Pairs, threesomes, moresomes, all engaged in raunchy orgiastic display. His eyes lifted, though they kept wanting to glance back down. Purely from intellectual curiosity, Tim would assure you.

The room was large, but not overly so. Perhaps thirty feet across, and round. The walls were covered in built-in bookshelves. The shelves stretched up, more than double the width of the room. They were covered in books, and scrolls and tablets and other unidentifiable items that he assumed were unknown methods of storing information. The only break in the shelving were two doors on opposing sides. The doors were wide, maybe half again a normal, modern door, made of dark wood, the same as the shelves. There was something odd about them, though, and Tim couldn’t put his finger on what.

There were four places to sit, two couches, love-seat sized, and two completely opulent chairs, with matching ottomans. All were dark leather, and felt amazingly soft when Tim ran his hand across them. Four small tables were spaced between the seats, so they all formed a circle around the thing in the room’s center. Lamps adorned each table, and though they seemed dim, the room was well-lit.

In the center was a circle of knee-high railing, also wood, surrounding a sphere. The sphere floated, at chest height, and appeared made of a milky-white substance which shimmered with a rainbow of colors. Tim stood, moved closer to examine it more closely, and discovered that he was still naked, too.

Is this one of those naked dreams?

He held his hand up, to touch the sphere, then he thought better of it. He circled the room, finding that the thing was perfectly round, and nothing appeared to hold it in place. He decided to check the rest of the room before doing something stupid like blowing it up by pushing the wrong button.

It was a frustrating search. None of the books or other items would come away in his hand. They wouldn’t even budge, though they felt normal and not like metal or wood replicas. He tried the doors, which is where he finally figured out what was wrong with them. There weren’t any doorknobs. No way to open them, at all. The hinges, assuming they had any, were on the other side as well, though he couldn’t push them open.

The couches, chairs, tables and lamps were all completely ordinary, dark wood and leather and iron. Well, except for the fact that the lamps didn’t have any power cords or anything. And no switches to turn them off. He couldn’t even unscrew the light-bulbs, as they appeared of one piece with the rest of the lamp. Sighing in frustration, he returned to the center.

Might as well, nothing else I can do here.

He laid his hand on the sphere to push, and something powerful, a tingling surged through his body.

Welcome, Mage. The Library recognizes you as a new Member.

Tim turned his head and found a figure standing just outside arms reach. He squinted, but it was as though the person stood in shadow.

“Who are you?” He asked.

The form blurred, then resolved into clarity. A stunningly beautiful woman stood next to him. She was naked, with long, flowing auburn hair down to just above her ass-crack. Eyes so gray they appeared nearly white, like diamonds regarded him. Truly bee-stung DSL quirked in a flirty smile on a perfect face. Her breasts were high, and round, and perky, capped with the most mouth-wateringly erect nipples. Flawless tanned skin, glowing with the health of a person who spent a lot of time outside in the sun. And legs. Legs that just went all the way up, to heaven. A small gap, and the most inviting cleft between her sleek thighs.

I am the Archivist. You may remove your hand from the Heart now.

Tim started and pulled his hand back. The Archivist moved to one of the chairs and bent over to push the ottoman so it was touching. Tim took one look at that delectable derriere, with the most inviting holes he’d ever seen, and sprouted wood. She wiggled her bottom around, then peeked over a shoulder to wink at his appreciative, lusting gaze. She patted the chair.

Sit here.

Tim moved around her and sat. She tapped his legs, indicating he should stretch out.

Slide down a little.

He obeyed that as well. She stepped across, so she was standing over him. She dug her fingers through her crotch, and they came away coated in cunt cream. She smeared them under his nose and on his lips. Then she gripped his cock with a hand, and in one smooth motion, sank to the root on his rod.

Tim blinked. He still smelled nothing, and his dick felt no snug, wet warmth. He opened his mouth to ask, but she beat him to it.

Now, you must connect with your physical body. Allow the signals to merge with what you currently observe. Expand your erection to the same state it’s currently in.

“I, uh, don’t understand. How do I do that? I’m right here.” He stuttered.

Your mind is here, but your body remains where you left it. Perceiving this place feels like a physical thing, but it is entirely a construct orchestrated by the Bridge. If the physical signals your body’s nerves are passing into your brain conflict with what your mind perceives as ‘real’, it can have a fracturing effect on your consciousness. Close your eyes, and allow the signals through.

Tim did as she instructed. With his eyes closed, concentrating on his body, he felt Turbo’s pussy as she writhed on his dick. He smelled the wet, oily perfume of Lam’s pussy. Lam’s body weight squirmed on his chest, nipples scraping his skin. He opened his eyes to find a pussy inches from his face. The same pussy he’d been peeking at seconds earlier.

Apparently, the Archivist can duplicate herself.

I can, if necessary. You might want to tell the women currently touching you to avoid doing so once they observe you to be unconscious, when you do this next time.

Tim jerked in shock. You can hear my thoughts?

Of course. The woman siting on his groin waved around. All of this is happening in your mind. I am speaking directly into your mind. You are much more likely to understand me correctly, and as a Mage, will have perfect recall of any passages I share with you.

So, it isn’t real?

She shook her head. It is very real. Once others elevate themselves as you have, should you both be here simultaneously, you will be able to interact, regardless of how far apart your physical bodies are.

Then where are we? Am I, I mean.

You are in the Library, the first room in humanity’s Hall of Elysium.

Okay...

Tim tried to look around. It wasn’t very easy, with the chair back behind his head and the very attractive body resting on his chest.

This isn’t very efficient.

No, it is not. Again, a lack of physical signals while here will help you navigate more efficiently. This is something you will have to tell those helping you.

Tim sighed. Well, can I just wake up or whatever, tell them to leave me alone, and come right back?

No, it is not so simple. With practice, yes, you will find coming here as easy as falling asleep, though less restful. But at the beginning, it takes concentration and energy. When you depart, you will wish to rest and replenish yourself.

Darn. Okay, well, what can I do then?

Save your exploratory curiosity for next time. You are a Mage, so you seek knowledge. Ask, and I will show you the answers you seek.

The Oracle thing (Tim still felt weirded out by that encounter) said it knew everything we knew. Are you the same way?

The Archivist looked at him with visible curiosity. You have talked with an Oracle? Interesting. No, an Oracle is... She waved a hand, and a scroll appeared, hovering next to her.

Tim could see her eyes tracking across the page.

Unlike the normal denizens of the Hall, an Oracle is different. It may manifest inside the Hall, or in the physical realm directly. It isn’t a separate being, but rather we believe it to be a direct manifestation of the Elohim’s will. Observations—h

What are the Elohim? Tim interrupted her.

She waved and the scroll disappeared, replaced by a thin clay tablet.

All our direct knowledge of the Elohim comes from the religious authorities, or from hints given by Oracles and Avatars. They reveal little about themselves, but based upon careful study, we believe them to be beings of pure energy, rather than matter. They seem to exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously, and their interactions with a physical universe are, while immensely powerful, extremely subtle. The most direct manner ever recorded was their creation and introduction of the first Seed. Religious authorities claim the Seed creates a Bridge between the Seed’s recipient and a single Elohim. Based on other references to the process, we speculate that the Bridge actually creates a new Elohim. If this is true, then the entire cycle of creating Seeds and introducing them to other persons is actually the Elohim’s reproductive cycle. For every person connected, the Elohim population increases by one. This has profound—i

“What?!” Tim exclaimed. “What was that last part again?”

The Archivist repeated the last few sentences.

“Holy shit!” Tim waved his arms helplessly. “I’m connected to one of these Elohim things? Right now?”

Your question calls for synthesis and speculation. I am permitted neither activity.

“Permitted by who?”

By my nature. Just as you have limitations on what you may do, based on your form and capabilities, I do as well. As my form is entirely based here, and functions as an interface with those who use the Library, my limitations are often more obvious to beings who can question and create.

“Uh, okay, well, thank you for helping me.”

It is my nature to help all who make it here, within limits. No thanks is required. Do you have other questions?

“Uh, yeah.” Tim thought for a minute. “The Oracle said to get into the Library, which I guess means here. Talk to the Archivist, which seems to be you. And ask about Exarchs. What are those?”

Another hand-wave from the Archivist. A very large, very thick tome appeared. Pages flipped, faster than he could follow.

Exarchs are the title given to those who achieve the highest caste. Unlike the middle three, who receive their initial caste essentially by decree, inherent in the Seed type given, or inherited from their birth-mother, Exarchs are elevated by their own actions. The specific action needed differs by the type of Exarch, and by the original caste of the person seeking elevation.

“Wait. Middle three? Middle three, what?”

Pages flipped.

Workers are the second lowest caste, and the lowest produced in normal reproduction. Their purpose is to keep civilization’s structures running. It is for this reason that their libido is kept slightly depressed below the other, higher castes, but their physical enjoyment is slightly elevated as a reward for their labor. Artisans are the middle caste. Each specializes in an area, whether physical protection, or creating new inventions, or providing advice and instruction. They have greater flexibility in their activities, due to the need for creativity. An appropriately balanced population should have several Workers for each Artisan, proportionately. The second highest caste is the Nobility. Their purpose is to provide governance and direction in ordinary life. They are the judges, mayors, lords and other political leaders. Depending upon the nature of the civilization, how orderly it is, how vibrantly it expands, the size of the Nobility caste, in proportion to the other two lower castes, will change. Populations with too many Nobles will find their societal progress retarded by overbearing control and micromanagement. Those with too few will fracture and disintegrate in conflict.

“And Exarchs?” Tim prompted, after a pause.

The highest caste is the Exarch. Much smaller than the middle three, in proportion, the various types will normally establish entry criteria beyond the actions actually needed for a person to elevate themselves. Should an entrant fail to meet the established criteria, the faction that the entrant attempts to enter will have the authority to return them to their original caste.

“Various types? Factions? What does that mean?” Tim was starting to get a little lost.

There are many different types of Exarch, and while the number of types cannot possibly be infinite, it does seem that each race who discovers that highest caste eventually finds a way to create a new, unheard-of type. However, there are still only three types identified who retain political autonomy from a Ruler. Those three are Mages, Priests and Justices. All other types currently known can, and do fall under a Ruler’s authority. The three most common who fit that criteria are Champions, Bards and Agents. The list of other identified Exarch types is included in appendix G—t

“Oh fuck me.” Tim exhaled. “Seven ‘common’ Exarchs and a whole list of others. Wait a minute, go back. How many castes are there? Four? Worker, Artisan, Noble and Exarch?”

There are five castes. Slaves are the lowest caste and like the highest, a person cannot start in that caste, nor be born into it. A person may be demoted to Slave temporarily, or permanently, depending upon the severity of the infraction that necessitates their punishment. A Slave cannot reproduce, no matter what their original capabilities, and fall utterly under the dominion of the individual given ownership of them. Normally, the Owner is a person who the Slave has wronged in some manner. But if no true victim can be found, or if there are too many, another may be selected.

“Slaves? So we could make people slaves? How do we do that?” Tim wondered.

Yes, there is a Slave caste. Your second question requires synthesis and speculation, again this is outside my scope. For your third question...

Pages flipped again.

Only a Justice may demote someone to the Slave caste. Another Exarch, or even a subordinate Judge or Noble may nominate someone, and present a case for the demotion, but ultimately the decision rests with a Justice. This authority may be delegated, but only under certain conditions specific to the Justice faction.

“Sheesh, was anything Lilith told me true?” Tim wondered.

Your question requires synthesis—a

“Yeah, yeah, outside your scope and all that. I guess you don’t understand what a rhetorical question is, do you?”

In this case, you were expressing a belief as a question. But my nature is such that I must answer, or attempt to answer all questions put to me by a Member of the Library.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sheesh. Uh, gimme a minute...” Tim stopped, thinking furiously.

Forget about the castes for a minute, they’re not important. The Oracle said to ask about Exarchs. Go there. Tim ordered himself.

“Explain the differences between the types and factions of Exarchs.” He ordered.

Please be more specific about which types you mean. The list is quite lengthy, and if you wish me to include them all I will be speaking for several days. You are not yet at a strength where you might spend that amount of time in this place.

“Okay, let’s start with the ones you already mentioned. Uh, Mages, Priests, Agents ... Rulers ... I don’t remember the others.”

A much smaller list. I will begin with Mages, as you are one. Pages turned. Mages are arguably the most individually powerful Exarch faction. Their focus is upon acquiring knowledge. They are immune from all binding and Oaths of Authority. Unfortunately, this means the only true punishments that can possibly be imposed on a Mage are: removal from the caste, which requires either an Arch-Mage, or the two-thirds majority decision of the governing Mage Council; and death. In addition to seeking to learn, Mages may make repeated Bargains with their own Apprentices. Because the result of a Bargain is more powerful if the giver is of higher caste, a Mage with all Noble Apprentices may quickly gain immense personal power. Functionally, unlike some of the other Exarch factions, Mage Bargains have no restrictions.

A scroll appeared next to the tome.

Decree from Arch-Mage Ixthoix, final Mage at the end of the Faction Wars:

The following must be read to all newly minted Mages, no matter their origin race, upon their ascension, as soon as is practicable. All Archivists are so charged, from now until the Elohim may decide, in their wisdom to rescind this geas.

Hear me and Remember, O Mage, for you have entered an elite Order, one whose possibilities appear limitless. No matter your reasons for ascending, the lure of incredible power will always tempt you. Others will offer you a wyrm’s hoard for the merest scrap of your power. Every action you take will be watched, scrutinized, judged and, often condemned. Tread lightly, I beg of you, that you may avoid my fate. Singly, if you have acquired sufficient knowledge and power, you might even take down a Titan. That would be a feat for the ages, surely. But, should you anger a sufficiently large population to violence, eventually even your power will wane and their numbers will bring you down. You have no ability to create a support structure, like the Kings and Priests do. Your word brings no welcome news to any, as Justices and Bards do. You stand for no larger authority than your own, as Champions and Agents do.

So, make allies. Be generous with your assistance, and judicious in your council, should any seek it. Be an honorable creature, whatever that might mean within your culture. For it took a mere talon-clutch of degenerates to bring the combined wrath of my entire race down upon all Mages’ crests. It is unlikely, as the universe is wide, and we occupy but a tiny portion, but should you ever meet a member of my race, never let them know your faction. Allow none from your race who communicate with mine to even hint that you exist. My race has already unleashed terrible weapons upon two other races, who did no wrong, but merely had their own Mages. We tried to stop it, we fought to be heard, and when the rest cared not for our promises, we fought for our very lives. Ultimately, all our actions were in vain.

I am the last of my kind. They hem me in on all sides, and I know I cannot win individually when all my comrades, three entire races worth of near-kin could not prevail. I will give my life, and all my power, that this charge might carry forward to all who live under the Elohim mantle.

Done, this Planet Rotation: number Four-hundred and Thirty-two, star circuit Five thousand, five hundred and ninety-nine, as counted from the ascension of the First Gorgon Emperor.

The scroll rolled back up, and shot through him, end-first. A heavy feeling settled on his heart. Two images appeared. Humanoid in appearance, they were dark green, covered in tiny scales. Their eyes were huge, yellow and slitted like a cat’s. They had no noses, and forked tongues licked the air between rows of pointed teeth. They were visibly male and female, with somewhat human-seeming genitalia. The female had three rows of three breasts upon her torso. The male had four arms, and a pair of enormous wings. An enormous bony crest curved up their foreheads and down the backside of their skulls. The female’s broke into several tentacle-like extensions at the back of her head, which hung down her back, to nearly her waist.

Tim gulped. “Is that what the Gorgons look like?”

It is. Their appearance has changed from when the charge first took effect, but the nature of the geas maintains a connection to the race. They are incredibly insular now, allowing no contact with other races, enforced by a large contingent of Champions and Agents. No other information regarding their current culture, politics, or racial status is available.

“Oh fuck.” Tim was really starting to feel overwhelmed.

To continue with your question. Priests are the next faction. Their focus is upon the study of meaning and morality. They are the only ones to actually communicate, if not regularly, then not infrequently with the Elohim, directly. While not personally powerful, within a priest’s congregation, their words hold immense sway. They are immune to binding, Oaths of Authority, and virtually all known nanotechnology-based vectors. In addition, they are the healers. As the Bridge itself heals nearly any ordinary physical malady, Priests usually specialize in healing mental afflictions. Their words, and a soothing touch from one, or even an Acolyte can calm even the most deranged individual. Their Bargains are known for being the most sought-after, as they are required to give more than they receive.

Rulers are the third faction. Their focus is upon exercising political authority. While an individual Ruler (be it King, or Tyrant, or Emperor) is quite an imposing entity to encounter, their true power lies in the extent and structure of their administration. They are the ultimate holders for all Oaths of Authority, and may demand an unbound individual’s Oath without Right of refusal. They are the only Exarch who may select a personal successor. The selected individual must still undergo the Rite of Enthronement, but if they succeed, they may immediately contest their predecessor for their position. Or, they may opt to wait, for either their predecessor’s death or incapacitation. Because Rulers must hold Oaths from their entire realm, they normally only conduct Bargains with Exarchs from other factions.

Justices are the fourth separate faction. Their focus is upon maintaining order, finding truth and deciding difficult problems. They are the weakest of the separate factions, both individually, and politically. Their function is to both construct and interpret the laws that govern all of their race who have accepted Seeds. When their race first begins transitioning from unSeeded, they are at their weakest. Once their race becomes unified, usually under a Ruler, the Justice’s power grows, though it remains by nature mostly indirect. They are immune from binding, and Oaths of Authority. They possess an additional Oath, the Oath of Authenticity, which they may temporarily hold only one of at any time. But once given, only the Justice, or a subordinate Judge may relinquish it. Justices may not possess any Bargain that would facilitate themselves or others violating the law.

The next faction is—t

“Wait, wait.” Tim’s head was spinning. “I have so many questions. You’re just speeding through each description. Let me absorb what you’re saying.”

Again, you will find you have completely accurate recall of all information I give to you. It is one of the gifts that comes from being a Mage. We may go back and cover any questions you have, but please allow me to finish answering the one you already asked. It will make this process easier.

“Easier for who?”

For both of us, though myself more so than you.

“Okay, please continue.” He sighed.

The next faction is the Champions. Their focus is upon the use and application of force. Individually, they are the most dangerous, and even the least powerful makes a dangerous enemy. But should one be an ally, a more true asset an individual could not wish for. Their Bargains are unlike any that others might make. Both their bodies and minds develop into weapons of the utmost potency. They are not immune to anything, but only the foolish try to bind one unwillingly, and only a powerful Exarch from one of the already described factions would even attempt to extract an Oath by force from one. They also possess the Call to Arms, permitting individuals and groups from the lower four castes to temporarily assume a combat ability, under the Champion’s leadership. Champions may only possess force-oriented Bargains, which nearly all other castes and factions are restricted from taking.

Bards are the next faction. They are the entertainers. Their focus is upon inciting lust and sexual excitement. Their bodies radiate the most powerful pheromones, capable of arousing even an angry Champion. In unSeeded populations, they are impossible to resist. When performing (and they are always performing) they connect with their audience, chemically and through sensory exchange, creating a feedback loop. Once captivated, their Deepest Fantasy drives the ensnared to heights of ecstasy. Such an experience is chemically addictive, even after only a single exposure, for the unSeeded. And can even become psychologically addictive for the Seeded with repeated exposure. They are immune to binding, and cannot be forced to give their Oath. They may only receive a limited number of Oathsworn, though the exact number appears to change from individual to individual. Bards may only make sexually enhancing Bargains, but within that restriction, theirs are vastly more potent than any another might make.

 
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