Red Cheek

Red Cheek:
Spanking Stories



Dave Reston

Petite blonde, age 24, 5'2",

105 lbs., 34-22-34, loves red

cheeks - especially mine! If

you're a man who knows how to tan a

naughty girl's bottom, give me a

spanking I won't forget. Send

photo and personal info to

Box 103SM.

The ad was in a local adults-only newspaper, and as soon

as I saw it I knew I had to respond. I'd fantasized for a long

time about spanking and being spanked, and had even spent an hour

in a "dungeon" to satisfy my curiosity about whether being

spanked - hard - by a woman would be the kind of turn-on I

imagined. But I hadn't yet met a woman who wanted to be spanked.

I knew I could find someone who, for a price, would let me do

just about anything, but even if I could afford it, the idea of

paying someone to submit to pain seemed, well, immoral to me.

But here, at last, was someone who might enjoy it!

I composed a short note and sent it, with a snapshot of

myself, to the paper's box number. The note included my

telephone number, and a few days later I came home from work to

find a message on my answering machine - call Gail at the number

she mentioned. I called the number and she answered. We chatted

a few minutes without mentioning her ad, and I knew she was

trying to find out what kind of person I was, whether I might be

dangerous. I told her about my job, that I was divorced, and

why, that I had two kids who lived with their mother but spent

two weekends a month with me. Finally she seemed satisfied that

I wasn't some kind of maniac. We talked about her ad and my

letter, and eventually agreed to meet for a drink the next

evening, a Friday.

After we hung up, I inspected the "toys" I'd gathered

over the past few years - several wooden paddles of different

sizes and weights, some with padded faces and some without; small

leather straps with buckles, for restraints, and some larger

straps without buckles, for use on, shall we say, the target

area; a hairbrush from which I'd removed the bristles, so that

one side was flat and smooth and the other side covered with

small holes; and the strip of Lucite and the birch cane that had

been used regularly on me and my younger siblings, from the time

we were seven or eight years old until we reached our early

teens. I didn't know whether Gail would want me to use any of

the toys, but her ad had sounded as though she was both serious

and experienced, so I guessed that she would be up for more than

a hand spanking. I cleaned everything out of my gym bag and put

the toys in it for inconspicuous transport.

The next evening I went to the small bar Gail and I had

agreed on, and I spotted her without difficulty; unlike a lot of

people who posted personal ads, Gail had been truthful about her

attributes. She was cute without being gorgeous, with a trim,

athletic-looking body and a surprisingly good tan for someone

with such fair skin. I felt very comfortable being with her. We

had our drinks, but the place was so noisy that we couldn't have

much of a conversation, and after we'd had a second round Gail

suggested that we go over to her apartment.

As I followed her up the stairs to her second-floor flat,

gym bag in hand, I couldn't help noticing how the muscles of her

ass bunched and relaxed as climbed the steps, and speculating

about what I'd see once a couple of layers of thin cloth were out

of the way.

Gail unlocked the front door and ushered me into a neat,

well-furnished apartment. After giving me a quick tour of the

five rooms she offered me another drink. I accepted, and she

made drinks for both of us before sitting down on the living room

sofa. We looked at one another for a long time without speaking,

until I decided to break the ice by asking how she'd come to have

an interest in spanking.

She said that she had had a very strict upbringing and

had been spanked often as a child, both by her mother and by her

stepfather. A few years ago she had realized that although those

spankings had been very painful at the time, thinking about them

later was "stimulating". I asked how old she'd been when she'd

last been spanked by one of them, and learned that her mother

hadn't spanked her after she was about twelve, but that her

stepfather had continued for another couple of years. Her mother

had finally made him stop because Gail was getting "too


I asked how old she'd been when she got her first

"voluntary" spanking, and was rewarded with a blush that extended

even into her scalp. Nervously, Gail admitted that she hadn't

been spanked since she was fourteen, but hadn't wanted to sound

naive in her ad. I reassured her that I understood this was an

experiment for her, that we would proceed very gradually and go

no further than she wanted to. Privately, I doubted that I would

be opening my bag of toys.

I told Gail I would do nothing without warning her and

giving her a chance to say "no", but that I thought it would help

prepare her mentally if she got into position across my lap. She

hesitated for a moment, then gulped the last of her drink and

stood up. Sliding to the center of the sofa, I reached up and

took her hand. I pulled her gently down until she lay across my

legs; her crotch rested on my right thigh and I could feel her

boobs pressing against the outside of my left thigh. Without

saying anything, I ran my hand slowly over the seat of her pants

and felt her whole body tremble.

Keeping my hand on her ass, I asked her to tell me more

about her childhood spankings. Her mother, she said, usually

used a hard-soled bedroom slipper or a yardstick; her stepfather

had used his hairbrush when she was younger and his belt after

she was ten or eleven. Quick, impulsive spankings might be

administered wherever she happened to be when the cause arose,

and would be given through whatever clothing she was wearing.

Spankings like that were frightening because they were often

accompanied by rage, and embarrassing if her friends were around,

but not particularly painful because she was protected by

clothing and because the spankings were generally brief.

Serious spankings, Gail said, were administered in her

bedroom and were much more painful. Regardless of the time of

day, she would be sent to her room with instructions to remove

all her clothing and put on her nightgown, and would then be left

to contemplate the impending punishment for anywhere from ten

minutes to an hour. I stroked Gail's back with one hand and her

ass with the other as she spoke, and could feel her arching her

pelvis to push her asscheeks against my hand.

If her mother were going to do the spanking, Gail

continued, she would have Gail pull her nightgown up to her waist

and lie face down on her bed with her knees bent and her toes on

the floor. Her mother would then apply the slipper or the

yardstick to Gail's bare bottom. Most of her mother's spankings

consisted of no more than two dozen strokes, unless Gail moved;

her mother made no attempt to hold Gail in place, but if she

moved she would be ordered back into position and her mother

would start over. I slid my hand down the back of first one of

Gail's thighs and then the other as she described the way her

mother had spanked her, and noted appreciatively that her legs

parted as I touched her.

Moving my hand back to her ass, I asked Gail what had

been different about the spankings her stepfather had given her.

One difference, she said, was that he always made her take her

nightgown off, so that she was totally naked. When he intended

to use his hairbrush, he would sit on the edge of her bed and

make her lie across his lap, just as she was lying across mine

now. I could imagine the scene perfectly, seeing her naked body

trembling the same way it shuddered fully clothed under my hands

now. Her stepfather would spank her quickly ten or fifteen times

with his hairbrush, lecture her while her cries subsided, and

then repeat the spanking. Generally he would do this five or six

times, leaving her with bruises that lasted several days.

Once he began using his belt instead of the hairbrush,

her stepfather required Gail to kneel on the bed, head down and

bottom up in the air. She was required to count each lash out

loud, and if she moved the whipping would start over. Her

stepfather usually gave her ten lashes without stopping, covering

the backs of her thighs as well as her bottom, and then gave her

a minute or two before the next set. After two or three sets,

especially in the final year or two, he would make her spread her

knees far apart and would lash the insides of her thighs as well

as the backs. I asked whether her stepfather touched her, with

anything other than his belt, while she was in the spanking

position, and Gail blushed deeply again as she told me he'd never

touched her sexually, although he sometimes prodded her to make

her move to a different position.

Gail was breathing raggedly as she spoke, the words

tumbling out. I doubted that she had ever told these stories to

anyone before, and if she had told anyone, I was willing to bet

that the listener hadn't been able to see - as I could - how wet

the crotch of her pants had become.

"All right, Gail," I told her. "I think I understand the

significance this has to you. I'm going to spank you in just a

minute" - I felt her ass harden under my palm - "but first I want

to explain something to you." She sighed and relaxed.

"The problem with most voluntary spankings is that the

person being spanked knows how to make it stop. When you were a

kid, you didn't have that kind of control - your mother or your

stepfather kept on spanking until they were done, no matter

whether you thought you'd had enough or not. And that's the way

it's going to be when I spank you."

"But what if -", Gail started to ask in alarm.

"Wait a minute, let me finish," I said firmly. "That

doesn't mean you have no say in the matter. Before I do

anything, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, and we'll agree on

how many you'll get. If you don't agree, I won't do anything at

all, but once you agree, it will be too late to change your mind,

and I won't stop until the agreed number unless I decide you've

had too many. Now, how does that sound to you?"

She was silent for a moment. "All right, I guess," she

said slowly. "But what if it just hurts too much?"

"That's what will make it seem real," I replied. "And

the next time, if you want, we can agree on a smaller number."

"O.K.," she said shakily, "I sure hope I don't regret


"You won't," I assured her. "Now, since it's been a long

time for you, we'll start very gently. We'll leave your pants

on, and I'll just use my hand. How many of those shall I give


Gail thought for a moment. "How about five?" she said


"How about ten?" I responded. We settled on seven, and I

shifted her slightly to make sure her ass was directly above my

thigh. I raised my hand and said, "O.K., here we go!"

I brought my open palm down sharply on the clenched

muscles of her right asscheek. Gail expelled her breath swiftly

but made no other sound. I gave her a matching smack on the left

side, and followed up with another on the left before she could

clench that cheek again. The seven spanks took only ten seconds

or so, and Gail gave no indication that she found them hard to


"Those didn't hurt much, did they? How about fifteen

more?" I asked.

"O.K.", she answered. "I think I can handle that."

I resumed without any warning, and the first swat

provoked a small yelp of surprise. The last three spanks of that

set elicited short moans, but nothing that sounded as though Gail

were in real pain.

"All right," I announced, "I think it's time to make

things a little more realistic. Let's get those pants out of the


Gail stood up stiffly, unzipped her slacks and pulled

them off. She looked at me questioningly, obviously wondering if

I intended her to remove her bikini panties as well.

"Leave those on, for now," I smiled, "but why don't you

take your blouse off and save some time later?" She had to

realize that meant that I expected all of her clothes to be off

before we finished, but the idea didn't seem to bother her. She

unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it on top of her slacks. Then,

wearing only her bra and a pair of pale blue nylon

panties - neither of which left a great deal to my

imagination - she draped herself across my lap again.

Her bikini panties exposed a lot of skin, and I could see

that her ass was as firm and well-shaped as I'd guessed. It was

also slightly tinged with pink from the gentle spanking she'd had

so far; it would be pinker after the next set.

"I'm still going to use my hand," I told her. "You're

more exposed now, but you've also gotten used to the feeling, so

why don't we start with twenty?" We settled on fifteen, and I

agreed to warn her before the first.

I gave her the warning and landed a hard swat in the

middle of her left asscheek, being careful to center the blow

over the nylon-covered area. The sound echoed loudly and my hand

stung, so I knew her ass did too, but Gail reacted only with a

sharp gasp. I continued briskly, gradually letting the spanks

land more on bare skin and less on nylon. She was squirming by

the time I gave her the fifteenth spank, but her movements seemed

more designed to grind her pubic bone against my thigh than to

avoid the force of my slaps.

We had reached a critical point. I had to decide whether

to remove the last of Gail's clothing and continue spanking her

by hand, or to introduce her to my toys. Much as I wanted to see

her totally nude, it seemed to me that she was less likely to

fear my toys if she still had the protection - more psychological

than physical - of her panties when I introduced them, so I told

her to get up and hand me my gym bag.

I put the bag on the coffee table in front of us and

unzipped it. Then I told Gail to take everything out. She

examined each paddle and strap carefully before laying it out on

the coffee table. When she had finished, I told her to choose

the one she wanted me to use.

"Couldn't you just spank me some more with your hand?"

she asked. "I mean, your hand was really starting to sting, and

those things look like they could really hurt."

"I'll do whatever you want," I told her, "but I think

you're ready for more than just my hand. You want to see how a

real spanking will feel."

"I guess you're right." She selected the lightest paddle

and handed it to me. It was a good choice. I knew from personal

experience that it would sting, but any pain would disappear

within a few minutes.

Gail settled back across my lap but didn't relax the way

she had before. I stroked her ass and the backs of her thighs,

assuring her that the paddle was only a small step away from the

hand spankings she'd endured so easily. Most of the tension left

her body, but I could tell that her asscheeks were still tight.

I asked her how many she wanted to start with, and she suggested

five. I countered with fifteen, and we agreed on ten. I raised

the paddle and told her to relax; my words, of course, had the

opposite effect.

I landed the paddle sharply on the panty-covered part of

her right asscheek. Gail jumped and said "Oh!", but made no

other sound. Nine more spanks landed quickly. I alternated from

cheek to cheek, and she jerked each time the paddle landed but

remained silent.

"Well, what do you think?", I asked after the tenth


"It didn't hurt as much as I'd been afraid it would. In

fact," she admitted, "it felt good, even better than your hand."

"I thought you'd say that," I commented. I was elated,

because I was sure now that she could handle a more extensive

session with any of my toys. "Let's go a little farther this

time." Without explaining my comment I rolled her panties down

until they were stretched tight across her thighs, just below the

jutting cheeks of her ass.

Gooseflesh rippled across the pale skin of her ass as

Gail realized that she was completely unprotected for the first

time. Her cheeks were a mottled pink, but that color would

disappear within an hour if we stopped now. "I'll use the same

paddle, but I think you should have 25 this time."

Gail agreed readily, but clenched her asscheeks together

as I raised the paddle. I swung it harder this time, landing

blows at random. With 25 spanks to work with I managed to cover

most of each cheek. For the first fifteen or so the only sound

was the slapping of the paddle, but then I began to hear an

"Ooh!" or an "Unh!" each time the paddle landed.

I finished the 25th and Gail sagged against me. "Oh,

God!" she exclaimed. "That was starting to remind me of a real

spanking, the kind I used to get!" Her ass was showing some

redness, but I was sure it would be considerably redder before I

left her apartment.

I ran my hands appreciatively over her silk-smooth skin.

"Would you like to take a break now, or shall we go ahead with

another step?" I inquired.

Gail thought for a moment. "Um, I'd like another drink

in a few minutes, but first -" She pushed herself up into a

kneeling position, then turned to rummage through the implements

on the coffee table. Rolled down as they were, her panties still

covered most of her crotch, but it was obvious that she was

either a natural blonde or had a very intimate relationship with

her hairdresser.

After hefting each of my paddles, Gail chose an oval-

shaped one with leather facings and handed it to me. "Why don't

you give me, oh, twenty with that one?" She lowered her body

across my lap, but kept part of her weight on her knees to thrust

her rump upward invitingly.

"Twenty you shall have," I responded. I didn't suggest a

larger number, because the paddle she'd chosen was quite a bit

heavier than the first one, and I knew from personal experience

that twenty strokes with that would do more than just "remind"

her of a real spanking.

I tugged her panties down a little further to create an

unobstructed path to the base of each asscheek and raised the

paddle. "Ready?", I asked.

"Ready," she replied confidently. The right cheek

flattened under the impact of the paddle and she let out a

surprised yelp. I followed up quickly with another swat on the

left side, then moved back to the right, avoiding the bright red

blotch left by the first stroke. I wasn't swinging the paddle

with anything like my full strength, but I wasn't being gentle

either, and Gail let me know she was feeling the spanks: "OW!"

"AAAH!" "Ouch!" "Hurts!" "OH!"

She was no longer thrusting her ass toward the paddle; I

felt her full weight on my thigh as she rolled from side to side,

trying to make sure she wouldn't get two spanks in a row in the

same spot if I failed to select a new target. Her ass was

thoroughly reddened by the time I spanked her for the 20th time

and put the paddle down. She lay panting after I finished, still

rocking slightly from side to side.

"Wow!", Gail exclaimed at last, "I'm glad I didn't tell

you thirty!"

I rubbed the burning mounds gently. "You could have

taken thirty, though, or even forty, you know," I commented.

Gail got to her feet. "Oh, I know I could, I can take

lots more than you've given me so far, but I'm glad you've done

it so gradually. If you had pushed me too fast, I'd be afraid to

try any thing more." She collected our glasses and walked into

the kitchen, the rolled strand of sky blue nylon around her

thighs contrasting dramatically with the bright red of her


She was back a couple of minutes later, with fresh drinks

for both of us. She sat down on the sofa and we talked for

several minutes. I asked how she felt about what we'd done so

far. She said that the last set were the only spanks that had

hurt while she was getting them, and that now she felt very

tingly and excited; she hoped I wasn't going to stop now.

I assured her that I wasn't going to stop, and as we

finished our drinks I told her I thought the time had come for

her to go in her bedroom and put on her nightgown, and I would

meet her there in a few minutes. Gail got to her feet and

started for the bedroom.

"Wait," I told her. I surveyed the instruments on the

coffee table and decided on the strip of Lucite; it was a little

more than an inch wide, a quarter of an inch thick and about 18

inches long. It was more like her mother's yardstick than

anything else I had, although the Lucite was heavier than wood.

"When I come in," I continued, "I'm going to give you 25

with this." I held up the clear plastic strip. "You can think

about how that's going to feel while you're changing."

Gail swallowed hard, then nodded and turned back toward

her bedroom. I waited until I heard a toilet flush and a door

open and another one close, then went in search of the bathroom

myself--four drinks had made the need rather urgent. While I was

in there I opened a drawer and found the package I'd expected. I

pocketed one of the items in it, then went back to the living

room. I repacked my gym bag and sat down to wait.

After giving Gail ten minutes to change and have second

thoughts if she wanted to, I picked up the Lucite strip and the

gym bag and walked to her bedroom. The door was ajar and I

pushed it open and went in, then closed the door and locked it

behind me. Gail was lying face down with most of her legs

hanging off the foot of the bed. She was wearing a pale blue

nightgown, the same color as her panties, but the nightgown was

short enough to make it obvious that she was no longer wearing

the panties. Her legs were spread slightly and I could feel

myself getting hard as I gazed at the honey-colored thatch

revealed by the short gown.

I walked over to the bed put the gym bag on the floor

next to it. Without a word I pulled the nightgown up until the

hem crossed the middle of her back. Gail spread her legs a

little wider and clenched the cheeks of her magnificent ass. The

redness had faded to a uniform shade of pink.

"Are you ready for the 25 I promised you?" I demanded.

"Yes," she almost whispered.

"All right. Remember, now, if you move I'll start over,"

I warned. The muscles in her arms tightened as she grabbed the

bedspread with both hands.

I raised the Lucite strip and brought it down quickly

across the fullest part of both cheeks. Gail gave a sharp yelp

of pain, the loudest sound she'd made yet. I swatted her again,

lower on the right cheek, and settled into a rhythm of one spank

about every second and a half. Gail didn't move but she gave

some kind of cry as each stroke landed.

"Oh! Ow! Aaah! Ouch! Please! Mama! Oooh! Hurts!"

Her cries became louder but less coherent as I gave her last

seven or eight spanks, but still she made no effort to move or

dodge the plastic strip.

By the time I finished her arms were trembling from the

effort she was putting into clutching the bedspread and her ass

was criss-crossed with straight-sided red blotches, but the outer

lips of her pussy were glistening. I laid the Lucite paddle down

and sat down next to Gail's prone figure. I stroked her ass

gently, and she moaned and relaxed her grip on the bedspread as

her legs moved even further apart. I continued rubbing the

overheated mounds of firm flesh but declined the clear invitation

to slide my hand between her legs; that could come later, if she

really wanted it.

"Oh, yes," she sighed, "your hand feels so good! I wish

my mom had rubbed me like that after a spanking."

"Did that feel like the real thing?" I asked.

"It did, and then again it didn't. I mean, it really

hurt, just like the spankings I used to get, and yet it wasn't

unbearable the way they used to be. Maybe it was because I knew

when you were going to stop, but you really got me excited."

The glistening lips of her pussy, and the expanding wet

spot on the bedspread beneath Gail's crotch, proved the accuracy

of that statement. My engorged cock threatened to tear through

the front of my slacks, and I stood up to ease the pressure.

"All right," I told her, "I think its time you got a real

strapping. Take your nightgown off and kneel on the bed."

I turned away to find my gym bag and selected the

heaviest leather strap. It was a little narrower than the razor

strap that I'd experienced as a kid, but it was both thick and

supple, and I was sure it would get Gail's undivided attention.

By the time I turned back to the bed, Gail was nude and

kneeling in the position she'd described earlier. With her head

and shoulders on the bed, her distended nipples grazed the

bedspread despite the firmness of her breasts. Her knees were

clenched tightly together, but even so the swollen lips of her

pussy protruded between her tanned thighs.

I showed her the leather strap. "To start with, I'm

going to give you ten strokes with this; is that what you want?"

She nodded mutely, and I saw the muscles of her ass

tighten involuntarily.

"You know how it works," I reminded her. "You count each

stroke out loud. If you don't count, neither does the stroke,

and if you move, we'll start over. Is that clear?"

Again she bobbed her head wordlessly. I still had a

raging hard-on, and Gail's dripping pussy was like a bull's eye

in the middle of the beautiful target in front of me, but I knew

she wouldn't be satisfied until she'd relived one of her

stepfather's strappings.

I took half a step backward and raised the strap. Using

a side-arm motion I swung it, medium-hard, so that the last four

or five inches of the leather landed low on the outside of Gail's

right asscheek. Gail swayed to her left and let out her first

real scream of pain, but she didn't forget to gasp out a "one!"

I landed the strap again, this time in the middle of the right

cheek, provoking another yell and a strangled "two!"

The third and forth lashes landed on the left cheek,

requiring a backhanded motion. I may not have been able to swing

the strap with quite the same force, but each blow left the kind

of wide crimson stripe that the forehand strokes had. The next

four, administered about two seconds apart, descended diagonally,

landing near the top of one cheek and cutting across to end low

on the other cheek. The final two I placed across the backs of

Gail's thighs, resulting in cries of real agony - but except for

swaying from side to side, she never moved and never missed in

her counting.

Laying the strap down, I knelt on the bed beside Gail.

She leaned against me and moaned as I stroked her blazing ass.

The backs of her thighs were wet and slippery with the juices

from her pussy, and I was ready to stop the spanking and plunge

my fingers into her hot tunnel. She stiffened as my hand brushed

her outer lips, though, and whispered "No, I want the rest!"

I stood up and Gail spread her knees far apart, arching

her back to keep her ass high in the air. Her tumescent clit

jutted from between puffy labia as I picked up the leather strap.

She obviously wanted a real strapping, and I would give her one.

"This time you're going to get twenty," I told her, "and

if you move I'll start over from the beginning - including the

ten you've already had. Are you ready?"

I waited for her to nod, then swung the strap - hard. As

I had intended, the last few inches of the strap smacked into the

inside of her left thigh, just below the gaping lips of her

pussy. A thin scream forced its way past Gail's clenched teeth,

but she stayed in position. A backhand stroke left a broad

matching welt on the inside of her right thigh, and again Gail

cried out but didn't move.

Spacing the strokes about five seconds apart, I proceeded

to lash Gail's ass and the backs and insides of her thighs. By

the time I'd given her ten she had arched her back even further,

thrusting her hips higher into the air and rolling them from side

to side each time the strap landed. By the twentieth, all of her

skin that was visible, from just above her knees to the tops of

her asscheeks was a nearly uniform fiery red, streaked with her

pussy juices that the strap had spread.

I dropped the strap on the floor and started gently to

stroke Gail's blazing skin. She moaned and shuddered. "Please,"

she whispered urgently, "fuck me, hurry, please!"

I needed no urging. Stepping out of my shoes, I loosened

my belt and pulled my slacks and jockey shorts off with one hand,

while retrieving and unwrapping the condom I'd found in Gail's

bathroom with the other hand. I rolled the condom onto my

throbbing prick and slid it into her waiting pussy.

She came the first time almost instantly, and shared my

orgasm only a minute or two later. As her second orgasm passed

Gail collapsed forward on the bed and I sank down on her back,

still trapped in her pussy and gasping for breath as she was. I

kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder blades, her ears,

feeling the hot cheeks of her ass pressed hard against the front

of my thighs.

A few minutes later I clambered to my feet and staggered

into the bathroom, where I found a pump bottle of skin lotion and

palmed another condom. Gail was still lying face down on the bed

when I came back and began rubbing lotion gently into her bruised

skin. Within a few minutes we were both thoroughly aroused

again. Gail rolled the condom into place this time, and we made

love slowly and tenderly, face to face with Gail on top.

Afterward, as we lay half waking and half sleeping, Gail

murmured "I hope we can do this again."

"Which do you mean?" I asked, "the spanking or the love-


"Both," she sighed. "I mean, I wouldn't want to be

spanked every time I made love, but I've never felt anything like

I felt when you first slid inside me. I guess I've wanted to be

spanked and fucked for a long time."

"I've waited a long time to find someone who wanted to be

spanked," I told her, "and I'm really glad it turns you on. Just

looking at you turns me on, and I'd never want to hurt you."

"Oh, you didn't, at least no more than I wanted. Next

time, though, I'd like to start in here and forget the

preliminaries. There will be a next time, won't there?"

I assured her that there would be as many next times as

she wanted.


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