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Aaron's Game
Chapter 13: The Day Before

by Redspkscott

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 01 Feb 2017


Aaron’s Game – Chapter Thirteen: The Day Before

I felt my body rocking slightly as I woke up in the morning. More importantly, I felt pleasurable rubbing on my cock. I was successful in spending the night asleep on top of Max, with my dick up Max’s ass. Max, though, apparently decided it was time for a little bit more. The rocking was Max grinding his hips, pushing me up a couple of inches and causing me fall back down, slowly fucking him without doing anything of my own.

Somebody’s a little impatient, I said.

Morning, Max said, grinding his hips upward again. I wanna try something.

What? I asked.

Hang on to me, Max said. Pretend you’re pinning me down for a fuck. I wrapped my arms around his neck and chest.

Ready? he asked.

Go for it, I said. Max braced himself and the pushed himself up hard with his hips and lower body, bouncing up off the mattress. I bounced up with him, my dick starting to slide out of his ass. But then we both fell down on the bed and I thrust back into him good and deep. We both moaned in pleasure.

Hang On, Max said. Time to go rough-riding! I clenched on tighter as he started bucking on my bed. Each time he pushed upward with his lower body, we bounced up, I pulled partly out, and then thrust back in when he slammed back down on the mattress. He was making me fuck him, doing all the work. All I had to do was hang on and enjoy the ride. I moaned as Max grunted with effort and pleasure each time we slammed back onto the bed. After a good ten minutes, he stopped bouncing off the bed entirely, but lay on his stomach and quickly thrust his ass up and down, not unlike what Johnny was doing to Reuben yesterday. But rather than sitting on top, bouncing up and down like Johnny was, he was underneath me. I clung tight to Max as his ass vibrated with my cock inside.

Yeah, come on, I growled in his ear. Faster! Harder!

Yup, Max said between grunts and bounced even faster. After a couple of more minutes of this Max forced my dick into a climax. I squirted cum into his bouncing bottom as he slowed down and finally collapsed back down into the bed.

That feel good? I said.

Real good, Max said. How about you?

Fuck yeah, I said.

I rested on his back still and he turned his head to the left to look around.

Oh, hi there, Joss, Max said.

What? I said, startled. I looked to the left and saw Joss had been sitting there in my room the whole time, watching us. I was so focused on fucking around with Max I hadn’t even looked. He just sat there in his sexy leather and denim gear, grinning.

How’d you get up here? I asked.

I can go pretty much anywhere I want, Joss said. People learn pretty quick not to say no to a hunter.

I relaxed, still using Max’s back and ass as my mattress.

So what brings you around? I said. I’m assuming it’s not a bounty on me what with me not being attacked and tied up.

Nope, Joss said. Got some good news for you. You might not have to use the spanking tubes at all.

What, not even for the preseason? I asked.

Me and my crew have been busy, Joss said. Grab Craig, call your council, and come with me.

I climbed off Max, who headed into the shower to wash off and prepare for another day of brutal football practice. I found Craig in Lance’s room. Craig had out-grappled the wrestler in his bed and was paddling Lance’s ass raw.

You wrestlers need to get better prepared for ambushes, Craig said to a squirming Lance. You keep acting like we’re on the mat. Then he noticed Joss. Ooh, is there a bounty? Joss repeated what he told me as Craig continued blistering Lance’s backside.

Could be a trap, Craig said. He could have a bounty on all our asses.

Trust me, you want to see this, Joss said.

You e-mail the council, Craig said. I haven’t fucked Lance, here, yet.

I headed to our meeting nook, hearing louder cries of pain from Lance’s bedroom as Craig used the vicious fire oil on him to make the sex nice and harsh. I shot off a quick e-mail to Brent and the rest of the gladiator council. Joss supplied his street address so they could meet us at his place and he could show us what he was up to.

You have a full crew now? I asked.

Yeah, you can’t expect me to make what you’re asking for all on my own, Joss said. Got a bunch of blue collars to help out. They all have black as secondary colors. Some of them have gold, too.

How many of them are working with blistered asses right now? I asked.

All of them, Joss said with a touch of boyish glee. That’s how you’re supposed to treat them though. They work better with sore butts.

They help test the Hall of Fear, too? I asked.

Sure do, Joss said. Now that you have a full house ... .

I’ll drag us all out there, I said. I promise.

I’ll give you a week, Joss warned. Or else, I’ll grab some hunters and we’ll all come fetch you.

I laughed, though I knew he wasn’t kidding. Craig and I, of course, wanted to see what he had done with the place. No doubt the rest of the guys in the penthouse would be interested in facing the challenge of trying to make our way through the place with our asses as intact as possible. But this week all of our exhibition matches were getting started across all the sports. We wanted to get into the groove of our competitions before going out and putting our butts on the line just for fun.

We heard moans of pleasure down the hall, meaning that Craig had finished fucking Lance. After a quick shower, Craig joined us and we jumped in my car to follow Joss – on his big black motorcycle – back to his place. Joss had taking command of a big fenced in warehouse in the same general area where we first met his patron and had our first painful 24-hour punishment session.

He was not kidding about having a full crew, either. Two blue collars opened the gate and waved us in when Joss honked his horn. Inside, as we parked, we saw probably a good two dozen of these blue collars wandering around. They were all big and beefy, built more like Max rather than we more defined gladiators. They all wore the tight blue overalls. They had the seat flaps on their overalls that could be pulled down, exposing their bare asses. Several of them worked with the flaps down. Their asses were all a good, dark red, as Joss said.

They’re all yours? Craig asked as we got out of our car and joined him.

We kind of have a huge shared pool among the hunters, Joss said. We call ’em as we need ’em for projects. We have some executives who help us keep it organized. This is a big project, so we’ll have them around for a while. Edgar’s around, too, helping out, though he’s probably not going to be as directly involved in what you’re planning.

He’s not gold, right? I asked.

Yeah, he’s purple and green, Joss said. But he loves the machines and traps like I do, so we’re having fun together. Must be the purple influence.

Must be, Craig said. I like the idea of traps and surprises, too.

We hung around for a few minutes, watching the blue collars scurrying around carrying equipment and metal braces and such, while we waited for the other gladiators to arrive. One blue collar guy tripped and dropped the tools he was carrying. Joss called him over with a sharp whistle. He obediently jogged over. Joss picked him up and tossed him over the seat of his motorcycle with his ass up in the air. He didn’t bother with any sort of restraints, but it turned out he didn’t need it for these boys. He pulled guy’s rear flap down to show a nice beefy, round butt.

Only pink, Joss said. That’s the problem. Joss lit a cigar and popped it in his mouth. Then he pulled out his Lexan paddle and started swatting the blue collar hard while he calmly puffed away. The blue collar whimpered and jerked in his spot from the pain, but made no effort to climb off the motorcycle or protect his ass. Joss beat the man’s bubble butt nice and raw, dark red with welts from the paddle. He cried and wailed, but no matter how much pain he was in, he never attempted to escape or protect himself. Joss finished up as a couple of cars drove up containing the gladiator council. The blue collar was bawling, but after Joss finished, he obediently returned to his task, picking up his dropped tools. He left his rear flap hanging down, so we could all see how sore his bottom is.

I really need to get a reason to get some of our building’s blue collars to come up to our penthouse more, Craig said. I may have to start breaking things.

Brent and the gladiator council introduced themselves to Joss, who responded to them all with simple nods, puffing away at his cigar.

So you’re the guy working with Aaron and Craig to make sure we all get our asses busted like nobody else’s when we lose? Brent asked.

That’s me, Joss said. Let me show you what I’ve got planned. I didn’t think it’d be ready so soon, but you beat these blue collar boys enough and they’ll perform miracles.

Joss led us into his massive warehouse. There were blue collar guys working everywhere on various pieces of machinery.

A lot of this stuff is for the Hall of Fear, Joss said. But I’m also getting ready to consult with you guys and get down to work if you approve what Aaron and Craig are proposing. Over here.

We could hear the unmistakable sound of several asses being paddled.

I know you guys accept that you’re gonna have to use spanking machines for your really long loser punishments, Joss said. But I know you don’t like the spanking tubes. I get it. I don’t like ’em either. I like looking my victims in the eye. Aaron and Craig probably remember.

I sure do, I said. It was still the hottest punishment I’ve gotten so far in my short life here.

So until you hammer out what you’re going to use during the regular season, I started fiddling with a spanking machine idea that could maybe make you boys happier than those tubes for now.

We made our way through the warehouse and there they were. There were five blue collars being paddled hard in a completely new paddling machine we hadn’t seen before. They were each bent over a solid, sturdy bench frame that head their heads down near knee level and their big round asses up in the air. They were bound to the machine with large metal bands around their torsos, locking their chests in place and their arms at their sides. On the back side of the frame, their thighs and ankles were also bound with metal bands.

With their massive asses at the highest point on their body, the paddles on the machine were swatting downward from above, like they were hammering nails. Each victim had two paddles alternating swats on each cheek at a cruel, relentless speed.

The most important thing about this new spanking machine, I noticed, is that you could see both the victim’s face and ass being punished at the same time while looking straight at him. And the victim could swivel his head and look around and see his surroundings. The five blue collar guys were gagged. They were crying and looking around the room, watching us watching them while they were relentlessly punished. Edgar was standing next to the machines, watching the punishment, smoking a cigar like Joss.

These are amazing! I said.

They’ve been in them all morning, Joss said. See those timers? They control the duration of the punishment. Very important – I did this just for you boys. There are no overrides on the timer and no way to cancel it. I can’t even stop it myself. The punishment will last as long as you set the timer for and the restraints will not open until it’s done. If you unplug the machine, the restraints will remain closed. You plug it back in and it starts back up. Somebody could probably cut their way through the restraints eventually, but that’ll take ages.

I took a look at the timer. It looked like these poor guys had a little less than three hours of paddling left.

Wow, these are great, Brent said.

The crowd is gonna love them, one of the other council members said.

They show up good on television, too, Edgar said. I showed them to that producer guy, Victor. He loved’ em.

You have 60 of these? Brent asked One for each losing gladiator tomorrow?

Yup, Joss said. We took careful measurements. You line ’em up side-by-side like this and they’ll make up one perfect line on the sidelines. Sixty loser gladiators, lined up next to each other.

Being paddled for 24 hours straight, in such a way that it’s hot to watch, I said. The crowd can see our facial expressions and our torment and humiliation. Our asses are highlighted perfectly. This will be a perfect temporary solution.

There’s one other thing I wanna show you guys, Joss said. Edgar figured this out while we were fiddling around with the restraints. Apparently the Painfather has all sorts of secrets about how our own bodies work to discover. Show them, Edgar,

Edgar walked behind the punishment victims. He reached down carefully between the legs of each blue collar guy and forced their cocks out backward between their beefy thighs, which were bound close together. He pulled their cocks and balls out and then rested them on top of the backs of their thighs, so they were dangling down helplessly behind them. They weren’t being hit by the paddles or anything. They were just dangling there behind them, visible on top of the backs of their thighs.

Watch their faces, Edgar said as he fiddled with the guys’ cocks.

I did as he told me. A few seconds after he forced a guy’s dick out and exposed I saw his face change a little bit. His eyes shifted around and his face turned a deeper shade of red.

Is it ... Is it embarrassing them? Craig asked. Are they blushing?

Yeah, Edgar said. It’s something the Painfather didn’t tell us about. I discovered it by accident. If you pull a guy’s cock out like this and leave it exposed like this in a submissive position and they can’t fix it, it is deeply humiliating.

A cock is for fucking guys, Joss said. It’s for dominating. I guess there’s something about having it put on a submissive display like this that causes shame and humiliation. After Edgar figured this out we tried it on all sorts of guys. Seems to work on all the different types ... except for the pretty boys, of course.

We watched them for a bit after Edgar forced all their dicks out. They were all blushing deeply and wiggling their heads around. They definitely appeared to be in more distress than they were from just the harsh paddling.

Did you get a gladiator to try it out on? Brent asked.

No, but did snag a couple of rugby players to try it out on, Joss said. It worked on them. The hot thing to do is to pull their dicks out like this first and make them feel the humiliation for a while before you actually punish them. You can see their embarrassment on their faces.

It’s really obvious on commandos and golden boys, Edgar said. I nodded. It made sense. It emphasized our failure to win or to dominate our foe. Our dicks, normally used to fuck and sexually dominate others, were reduced to being put on helpless display.

After watching the blue collars being punished for a little bit longer, the gladiator council conferred. I watched the blue collar boys suffer and imagined the cheers of the crowd in my head watching either Rueben or me getting tormented by this machine. I nearly started getting an erection right there.

The vote’s unanimous, Brent said when they were done. We want these on the field as soon as possible. What do you want as payment? One of us?

Well, for now, getting to see them in action tomorrow is payment enough, Joss said. Has Aaron filled you in on his big plan yet for the full season?

Not yet, Brent said. We wanted to get the preseason kicked off. Joss nodded.

Aaron’s plan will have some of us hunters on your asses pretty hardcore, Joss said. I like his plan, as do my brothers in black. So keep that in mind when you’re looking it over. We are brothers in pain, after all. We may be Brick’s favorites, but you guys are next on his list. You guys are the ultimate prey for us. He gave us a friendly wink, but his smile was nice and cruel.

We wrapped up the agreement, and as Joss and Edgar started directing the blue collars to deliver our specialized paddling machines, we all reaffirmed that Craig and I would be meeting with the gladiator council after the second preseason game to give our presentation for the rules of the regular season. They would confer, make any changes, and then it would go to the full vote of all the gladiators in our arena. Everybody would get a say in the guidelines that would run our first season. The system Craig and I came up with was very harsh on all our asses. We hoped the other gladiators approved.

Craig and I headed back home. We decided we weren’t going to spar today to keep our asses nice and fresh for the matches tomorrow. We did put in heavy workouts at the beach and swam laps in the pool to keep our bodies in tip-top shape.

What should we do for the rest of the day? Craig asked. It was a bit of a new experience. We had been living a pretty intense life up until now. Now we wanted to keep things loose before tomorrow’s matches. We saw Reuben working out on the beach and the rest of the guys were out practicing.

Let’s just relax, I suggested. We parked ourselves by the pool and turned on the deck television to see what the rest of the city had gotten up to. Craig summoned Lenny and Trip to bring us up drinks. They were interested when they discovered we decided to spend the rest of the day relaxing.

We can really help you relax, Trip said. But you’re going to have to trust us. It’ll be fun.

You sound like you want us to submit to you, Craig said. Trip nodded in agreement.

Really? I asked. Lenny nodded alongside Trip.

Just put your arms behind your back, Lenny said. We promise to make it worth your while.

You’re not going to beat our asses once you have us in bondage? Craig asked.

We promise not, Trip said. We know you guys want to have fights for dominance. We’re not going to trick you into submitting to pain.

I looked at Craig. He looked back and shrugged. Pretty boys weren’t exactly known for being deceptive.

All right, what do we do? I asked. Lenny and Trip had us stand up and used our restraints to bind our wrists behind our back.

Now lay back down on the lounges on your stomachs, Trip said.

Wait, you’re going to fuck us? Craig asked. That’s not such a big deal.

Nope, Lenny said. We’re not top guys. Trip and Lenny’s singlets exposed their bare asses, but not their dicks. They bottomed, but what were they up to? We both laid down on our stomach positioned so that we could watch the televisions. It was on the commandos’ station. It looked like they were planning some sort of major operation.

Behind me, Trip climbed onto the chaise on top of my legs. Lenny did the same to Craig. It did look like they were getting into position to fuck us. But instead, they leaned down and buried their faces between our ass cheeks.

What are they ? Ohhhh. ... Craig’s question was interrupted with a moan of pleasure. Then I felt Trip’s tongue flick along my ass crack and then nestle right onto my rectum. The touch of his tongue set off feelings of pleasure right on the outside of asshole. I moaned as well. Rimjobs, my mind filled in. Another one of the secrets of our bodies the Painfather left us to discover for ourselves.

The two pretty boys went to town on our asses in a way we hadn’t experienced before. Their tongues explored every inch of our ass cracks, focusing frequently right on our holes. Craig and I moaned in pleasure, sometimes occasionally even spasming from the feelings. We found ourselves unable to pay any attention to what was happening on the television. As the rimming went on, I felt everything around me fading into the background. Weirdly, it was the same effect from when I was getting harshly punished, but for the opposite reason. All I could focus on was the amazing sexual pleasure of Trip’s tongue traveling up and down my ass crack.

I feel like I’m going to melt through the lounge chair into a puddle on the deck, Craig said. It’s almost too much pleasure to bear! That prompted Lenny to stop for a moment.

Now you know why we made you bind your wrists, Lenny said. Then he dove back down into Craig’s crack.

What do you mean? I asked.

It means, Trip said, stopping briefly, That we can do this to you as long as we want. You’re our pleasure slaves. Then he giggled and returned to rimming me. I was confused by what he said.

He’s right, Craig said. I’m too weak from pleasure to do more than barely move.

Me too, I said. I noticed my ass even raised itself up like it did when I surrendered to punishment. In a way, it was proof that Lenny and Trip understood us as golden boys and how to treat us. Submission for a golden boy meant putting us in a position where we were physically unable to prevent whatever was going to happen to us. Even though Trip and Lenny were tormenting us with pleasure instead of pain, being unable to stop it felt the same.

How long are you going to do this to us? I asked. I could feel myself beginning to sweat in response to the sensations.

As long as we want, Trip said. I felt myself getting hard at the answer. They knew exactly how to treat us.

I actually had no idea how long the rimjobs lasted while it was going on. There was no sense of time. Even though we were outdoors, I didn’t even notice the changes in sunlight as the day passed. After it was all over I checked the clock and estimated they pleasured us for three hours this way. When it was over, they uncuffed us, but Craig and I were still both ridiculously weak. Since the two of them were strong, though, they flipped us over. We both had raging erections. They lubed us up and then carefully sat down on our cocks. They each slowly bounced up and down on top of us, doing all the work for the fucking which we just sat there and watched them, now feeling a rush of pleasure in our dicks rather than our ass.

After a good ten minutes of fucking this way, Craig and I both shot our loads. Trip grinned at me, then grabbed a towel and cleaned up my cum. I still felt rather weak, just laying there on the lounge.

So do you feel nice and relaxed now, guys? Lenny asked.

If I were any more relaxed, I’d be asleep, Craig said.

Is that what you needed? Trip asked.

That was exactly what I needed, I said. You guys are amazing.

We live to serve, Trip said. We’ll go get you some more beer while you watch television. I think your housemates are going to start coming home soon.

It wasn’t like we had much choice anyway. We were still too weak from pleasure to get up. We watched the television. Commander Grady was being interviewed by a producer about some sort of assault they were planning.

Wonder what those boys are up to? Craig said as we watched.

Looks like they’re gonna go bust some asses, I said. Probably punks. We watched for a while. Grady wouldn’t tell the producer who they were targeting but he let the camera crew follow them around for their preparations. There were a lot of commandos involved in this one. Interestingly, there was one pack of commandos who had a group of their own over their knees and were paddling them harshly on their bare bottoms.

The guys giving the swats have black as their second color, Craig noticed. The guys being beaten all have blue as their second color.

Our special forces commandos are expected to punish low-ranking soldiers, Commander Grady explained to the camera. We’re influenced by our other patrons, just like civilians. Our special forces serve Brick along with Rex, so it’s their duty to punish as much and as often as possible. Our grunts serve Henry along with Rex, so they need to be disciplined regularly to stay focused. We find it smart to match them together prior to an operation to get them both revved up.

This is going to be hot, Craig said. Can’t wait to see what they’re up to.

Trip and Lenny returned with drinks as the other guys all started returning home. Our strength had returned as well. When Rodney arrived, I ordered him over my lap and paddled him while watching television, since his coaches weren’t disciplining his rugby punk ass enough. Out of curiosity, before I started, I pulled his shorts down and yanked his cock back out between his thighs and put it out on display first. Sure enough, after a few moments, he began to blush and squirm a little bit about his dick being on display.

Put it back, man, he complained. It feels funny out like that. I denied him and started beating his bare ass as he squirmed around. I noticed that it took him a lot longer for his body to surrender and accept punishment when he had his dick yanked out like this. I wondered how that would affect our struggles when we were in the punishment machines tomorrow.

The football players returned home, their eyes rimmed red from all the punishment they’d received from their coaches. Max showed me his butt again, and it was once again heavily bruised, as were Jeffrey’s and Rico’s. But he had already planned to make another set of rounds through the building to take his strop to the backsides of any underperforming defensemen.

Eventually when everybody returned, we all ended up hanging out by the pool watching the television while fooling around in our own ways. Lance and Will grappled in the shallow end of the pool at Craig’s urging, knowing it would increase their strength. Lance eventually won and took great pleasure in paddling his rival’s ass. Reuben had Johnny, Kyle, and Hayato all standing side by side, bent over, grabbing their ankles. Kyle was in the middle because he was tall enough for Reuben to fuck standing up, which was exactly what he was doing. Johnny and Hayato were then being finger-fucked by Reuben’s left and right hands. All four of them were moaning so much I had to crank up the volume on the television.

As night fell, it looked like Grady’s forces were preparing for their assault. Everybody stopped their play and punishment and gathered around to watch. We still didn’t know what was going on.

Any interesting punk stuff going on today? I asked Rodney.

There’s a big concert, Rodney said. It’s the first time for a bunch of bands to premiere their new songs. But there’s going to be hundreds of guys there. It’s not like taking down everybody in a park or a building or something.

I pointed to the television. It looked like a convoy of dozens of trucks.

How many guys do you think there are with the commandos? I asked.

Damn, Rodney said. I was gonna go to that but we really needed our practice.

We watched and sure enough, Rodney was right. The trucks circled around the concert hall where the punk show was being held. After just ten minutes of set up, the commandos were ready. They quickly surrounded and rushed the building.

Wow, Reuben said. They don’t fuck around. I like that.

The punks fought back the best they could, but they didn’t stand a chance. They were probably outnumbered three-to-one, and they weren’t as strong as the commandos anyway. We all watched in amazement at this massive scene of group punishment. Hundreds of punks, whether they were in the audience or in the bands, were physically forced to submit to harsh paddlings from the commandos. And looking more closely, it wasn’t just punks. There were others in the audience who were just fans there to listen, but they were getting punished too. There were several producers and pretty boys. Much to my surprise, I saw what was very clearly a hunter taken down just like the others and punished. He must have fought back, I’m sure, but he was separated from his brothers in black here and no doubt overwhelmed.

There’s some other rugby players, Rodney, Max pointed out. Rodney took a close look at them.

They’re a rival team, Rodney said. Fuck them. Bust their asses, army boys!

The cameraman found Commander Grady again after a while. He was up on stage beating the ass of one of the performers. His victim was squirming and cursing at him but couldn’t stop Grady from blistering his ass raw with his thick wooden paddle.

Is there a message you want to get across to the punks? The producer asked Commander Grady.

I think we’re getting the message across just fine, Grady said as his paddle cracked against the punk’s ass.

How long will the commandos be targeting the punks like this? The producer asked.

We have a standing order that all punks are to be punished on sight from this point onward, Grady said.

All punks, no exceptions? The producer asked.

That’s correct. We see a punk anywhere in this city and we can get our hands on him, he will be going home crying.

How long will this order be in place?

Until the punks accept a submissive role in this city, stop making so much noise, and stop causing so much goddamn trouble.

We’ll never surrender to you fuckheads! the punk yelled back over his shoulder.

Even if you end up getting your ass beat every day like this? The producer asked.

Fuck the commandos! Fuck Rex! the punk yelled in response.

Note that the order is on sight, Grady said. A punk can be punished multiple times a day based on additional encounters. So if they’re not going to surrender, they need to keep their troublemaking asses off the street.

With that, he stopped to yank the punk’s tight jeans down and start beating his bare ass, which was already a nice deep red.

The camera wandered around the concert so we could watch the punishment going on. Orgy was too much of an understatement to describe the hundreds of guys getting their asses beaten by the commandos.

Life’s gonna be tough for your buddy, Levi, Reuben said.

He’s probably in that crowd somewhere, I said. Maybe if they’re this relentless, it will push him to try something besides just complaining about it.

I don’t know, Lance said. I think they like complaining about it.

We watched the punishment play out for a while, until it started making us horny. I dragged Rodney back into my bedroom to fuck him before I rested for tomorrow’s match.

Don’t forget, Reuben growled, as I pulled Rodney inside. Tomorrow your ass is mine!

Yeah, we’ll just see about that, I said, grinning. One of our asses was going to end up in the air tomorrow, and I couldn’t wait to see whose it was.

Next: Let the Battles Begin!

 
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