Bondage Ball

by douglbond

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© Copyright 2022 - douglbond - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; M/f; mpov; bond; cuffs; chain; collar; leash; party; armbinder; gag; X-frame; chastity; mittens; hood; chairtie; tape; cons; X

It's 5:30 on an average Friday night and Amy and I are about to leave the house for a real adventure. By nature, we are not particularly adventuresome, or at least not out in public. Amy is a lead software developer and I own a relatively large accounting firm. We live in a metropolitan suburb in an unassuming home on Sycamore St. Amy is beautiful. In every sense of the word. She is charming, funny and she loves to explore new ideas. This is particularly convenient in our bedroom. There isn’t much she isn’t up for trying – well at least once.

I, too, enjoy bedroom play. Neither of us has the typical top or bottom personality. We don’t own each other and we don’t much like being controlled in our daily lives, nor do we like to be responsible for controlling the other. But our spirits match when it comes to restraint. We both love the feeling of being bound and helpless.

Most of the time our bondage is associated with other acts of sex. But lately, we have ventured out into longer-term restraints. Examples include wearing restraints into public under clothes. I have worn a CB-3000 for up to 3 days in a row and we recently bought a Birdcage. She has worn a collar under a turtleneck to dinner one night and we have taken the remote vibrator to dozens of movies and dinner dates. Two weeks ago, she wore leather ankle cuffs under jeans to the grocery store. How exhilarating is that sound of D-rings clanging every so quietly and knowing that no one else recognizes the sound but you.

She has a leather chastity belt that she has worn out but as most people who own leather chastity belts know, they aren’t effective and are particularly annoying when bathroom duties call.

At home, we have a giant hope chest full of toys. From gags, harnesses, spreader bars, armbinders, yokes. In fact, it isn’t really fun to shop for toys online anymore because we pretty much own all the ones we like. One thing we don’t enjoy is pain. Neither of us like hitting, spanking, whipping or any sort of painful punishment. Goes along with our other thoughts that restraint is not about punishment, but instead freedom. We are both in charge of a lot of responsibility during the days at work and it feels so good to be at home and not make decisions. It feels good for someone else to be in charge. Especially if the big O follows a couple of hours of merciless bondage.

I suppose, in a nutshell, we are the “B” in BDSM. Bondage is all about knowing that you have no choice or say in what happens to you. Sure we have safe words. But we never have to use them. Because the bondage doesn’t hurt. If it hurts, one of us is probably doing something wrong. We enjoy playful bondage. We particularly like games. It’s so much fun to associate some restrictive restraint to games and bets all the time. We play bondage Monopoly, dice games, even bet on sports. Losers may have pretty heavy consequences. At first, it was fun to lose but we had to up the consequences.

Last week, I lost a simple bet on who was the first to fly: Orville or Wilbur. Cost me our entire three-day weekend in heavy prison irons. Just like a real prison. I never got released once. My hands were cuffed extra tight to a belly/waist chain connected to ankle cuffs. And the worst part about being helpless is once your hands and feet are gone, they can add anything else they want without any resistance. Which explains why I had to sleep in a collar and blindfold. Sucked but was exciting.

Back on track. We were leaving for our first out-of-home adventure. We were going to a bondage party. This is so outside our comfort zone. About 2 months ago, Amy was talking with her friend Lori about how to spice up her relationship with Todd. Lori and Todd have been married for 10 years at least and they seemed to have a great relationship.

As girls sometimes do, they began talking about life in the bedroom. I’m not sure why, but each of them began opening up about their secret bedroom activities and fantasies. Amy was amazed to learn that Lori and Todd were also into bondage fantasies as we were. And of course, Amy came straight home and told me about it. Now that is weird. Because now, every time I see Todd, I’m staring at him in a whole new light. I don’t feel like I can talk to him about it because we aren’t that close, but I certainly look him over to see if he has on some “public” bondage equipment. And I know he has done the same to me.

Lori is a wildcat. Opposite of Amy, she doesn't have a job and I think she will try anything – more than once. She has no filter and will blurt out embarrassing things at couples' dinners that make you want to sink into your seat. I don’t know what Lori and Todd’s relationship is really like, but I bet it's wild. You can bet they have whips and paddles. Poor Todd. He’s pretty quiet – but manly. Reserved. Kind and funny when you get to know him.

At dinner, Lori tells Amy about a bondage party that she and Todd went to a month or so ago. Amy described it to me as an open bar event where every attendant had to be in some sort of restraint. It's limited to 6 couples and as it turns out, Amy and I know 4 of the other couples really well. Lori then invited Amy. So weird. She said she would drop by a formal invitation (which has all the rules and particulars) in our mailbox next week.

Just like she said, Monday came and in our mailbox was a one-page, professionally printed, invitation to the Bondage Ball. At the top of the page was the title and just underneath was the phrase “Discrete Night of Restraint''. “Turn loose and relax in a night of food, drink, friends, and some light bondage.”

The note went on to describe the rules of the evening and they included:

  1. No nudity at all. Minimum exposure is equivalent to two piece swimsuit.
  2. No penetration or toys that simulate
  3. Every attendant (except the house dom) must arrive in restraints. Each restraint must be held in place by a lock. No ropes, no buckles unless they lock. Each should arrive with restraints in a duffle bag or equivalent and must have all keys to provided locks. Once inside, restraints will be applied by their partner or house dom, and all keys submitted into the centerpiece bowl in the middle of the room. At the end of the evening, all keys except one set will be distributed and everyone will be unlocked. One unlucky attendant will not get his/her keys until the following morning at 9:00 AM delivered to their mailbox.
  4. Some members may be asked to participate in sideline activities. Refusal to participate in extracurriculars will lead to not being invited again. 

I could tell from Amy’s face, she was a yes from the start. She felt like she needed to act puzzled and suspicious just to get my reaction but she could hardly hold back. I suspect she was planning her outfit and probably MY restraints from the second she read the rules.

I asked her the required questions like, “do you think this is safe”, “what if someone finds out”, “what if our work finds out”, and of course, “what if one of us doesn’t get the keys?”

She clearly didn’t care. She was in. All the way. And deep down I was too. So we began planning. We planned for the entire month. Knowing it would be lame to show up in some standard Smith and Wesson handcuffs cuffed in front, we wanted to be adventuresome. And what would it say to the rest of the group if we held back on our restraints – do we not trust them?

Amy and I went to every fetish store online. We toyed with a host of restraints but it was hard to settle. We for sure needed something that we could wear for 4 hours without it hurting. We needed to be able to wear it all night if we didn’t get the keys (1/12 chance of that). And we needed to know that no one else would be wearing the same thing. With that in mind, we made our selections, made our plans, and were ready for the main event.

We followed the directions exactly, although there was no address on the invitation. Only directions to go a certain distance and turn right or left. We started down a dead-end street and Amy and I knew that whatever was going to happen tonight, it was at the end of this street.

We pulled into the driveway and I took one last look at Amy. She had chosen to wear a short black patent leather skirt with similar shiny black high heel shoes and long black stockings. Her top was a white button-up shirt with the top two buttons loose and exposing her bright red silk bra trying its best to hold her 34 D breasts in place. Her stomach showed just between the skirt and the start of her perfectly starched shirt. Her hair was pulled up in a perfect ponytail and her makeup was thicker than normal. Her restraints were a set of Darby-style figure of 8 cuffs in front with locking thumb cuffs. She didn’t want to wear common handcuffs and Lori would not tell her what she was wearing so it was essentially a shot in the dark to see if she fit in.

I would be wearing a standard-issue orange prison jumpsuit complete with shackles, waist chains, leg irons, and even a lockbox on the handcuffs. Even if I had a standard handcuff key, I could not get out without the key to the lockbox. All our gear was in the duffle bag and we started inside.

The home was a very modern house. Big open foyer and large open living room. There was a table with glasses of champagne. We were met at the door by the House Dom. Her name is Abigail and she is only 5’ 6” and hardly looked like a dominatrix. Instead she had on a very vintage white bra and full figure white satin panties complete with garter belt and white stockings. Her heels were a full 4” and she filled every bit of the full figure bra. Her brown hair was pulled up and she was energetic, kind, and greeted us with the most gracious welcomes.

She introduced herself, saying that she was married to Tommy whom she said we would meet later. She explained that she would be holding all the keys for the evening and she went over the rules again to ensure that no one’s boundaries were crossed. She said, “this is only fun if couples can play safely and without the worry of being touched inappropriately.” She stated there would be no cameras or cell phones and she asked Amy if she was comfortable with her “helping” me with my restraints as the evening required.

Amy said, “sure,” and she asked me the same question for Amy. I quickly acquiesced as well. Then we were then directed to a smaller room just off the main room. This room looked like a giant coat closet. It was the size of most people’s bedrooms and there were hangers for clothes and things of the like. Here we were instructed to apply our restraints.

Abigail offered to stay and help if we needed but we assured her we were practiced and could make it on our own. Amy and I had talked it out. Since I wouldn’t be able to put my final locks in place by myself, we planned that she would apply my restraints first. She attached the ankle cuffs first. These were left loose enough to not be uncomfortable and then she placed the waist chain. Handcuffs were next and the belly chain was fed through the lockbox and so on until the dreadful moment of the padlock. The click of that padlock sent chills down my spine. Amy and I had played with some “time locks” before and I had even tried self-bondage. But I had never in my life been restrained without having some level of control over the release.

Next was Amy. Her Darby cuffs went on easily and the thumb cuffs seemed like a lame afterthought. I mean, those weren’t exactly the key feature that prevented our escape. Nonetheless, we exited the room. I had to take short steps and we both agreed to keep a big smile on our faces. There were signs to the elevator that led to the basement. Before we got on the elevator, we deposited our keys in a box labeled “Freedom.”

We rode one floor down and when the elevator door opened, we could see a big play space with slightly dimmed lights, music, and several other couples. What was crazy, as I knew everyone there. Jeremy was an accountant at a law firm and I had never seen him without a suit. Tonight he was wearing a rubber vest and a speedo. That’s it. Well and a pair of stainless steel fist mitts each connected by chain to a leather collar. The chain was short enough that his hands could not reach his waist.

He gave me a fist wave and motioned for Amy and me to come over by him and his wife Cheryl. As we walked over, we could tell that Cheryl had thought this out. She was in a tight purple satin corset complete with a satin bra under the overbust cups. Her stockings were connected to the corset and she had on red panties but I couldn’t make out the material and it seemed inappropriate to look any harder than I already was. Cheryl had on a locking shrew’s fiddle. Her hands were positioned in a row in front of her face high. She could not reach her face which means she could not drink, eat or even scratch her nose. She looked fantastic and there was no way she was getting out ever without that key.

We made small talk with Jeremy and Cheryl for 15 minutes or so when I noticed David and Angie coming out of the kitchen. David is tall and handsome. He was only wearing a toga and he had traditional dungeon irons around his wrists and ankles. There wasn’t a lot of restraint in his rig but it looked great and he looked good too. Angie is a drug rep and she kills it at her job. She is breathtaking when she is dressed in full business attire: pencil skirt and a blouse so tight the top button may pop at any moment. Well tonight, she had on the same thing. Only this time, with the yoke just like the movie Secretary. She looked exactly like the movie and it was incredible.

David reached out to shake my hand. It was embarrassingly low near my waist but I shook his hand back. It was like a man's credo that was required. At that exact time, we looked at Jeremy and he just smirked since his hands were locked in steel spheres he just shrugged his shoulders and we laughed.

About that time, the last two couple friends arrived. As it turns out, this is the fourth time that these couples had gotten together for the Bondage Ball. When it first started, there were three couples. Abigail and Tommy, Lori and Todd, and Keri and Kevin. Keri and Kevin were getting off the elevator now with Sam and Stacy. You could clearly tell that this was not Keri or Kevin’s first time out mixing it up with friends.

Keri exuded a level of confidence I had not seen. She was strutting a fast-paced walk like a runway model and all she was wearing was a shiny latex one-piece top that resembled a swimsuit shape but smelled like a rubber dream. Her arms were pulled straight back into a traditional armbinder with locks on every strap and clasp. There was a red ball gag dangling around her neck and a confident smile as she greeted the group that would make you think she was standing there in sweatpants and a hoodie. Her latex was so tight on her body and through her crotch that it left no mystery to her real anatomy.

Kevin was much more conservatively restrained. He had on a prison waist chain with the cuffs on the sides of the hips. His hands were buried in leather fist mitts and there was a particular bulge in his tight pants that we all knew what other restraints he had in place.

Sam and Stacy were actually restrained alike. Sam had on black pants and a tight satin button-up shirt. Stacy wore a full patent leather catsuit with a black waist trainer. Both were restrained in standard-issue peerless handcuffs behind the back. Stacy had a collar but it didn’t appear to lock and Sam wore the regular ankle cuffs. As it turns out this was their first party as well.

As we stood around a couple of cocktail tables and began talking, Keri was clearly the confident one and began explaining the events of the evening. It was now close to 7:00. The first hour we would mingle then Abigail would begin the events. There would be several games, a couple of challenges, and then the final key draw of the night.

As she began explaining, the remainder of us stood awkwardly talking. If you haven’t ever talked to someone in full restraints, just trust that it feels very weird. You feel oddly exposed and it's like you can’t cover yourself. Your eyes tend to wander and you have to adjust your pants or you will go crazy. Through the early night, my eye caught Amy’s a handful of times. She smiled back and she seemed like she was genuinely having a great time.

She asked me where Abigail was and on cue, there she walked. Down the center of the room with the confidence of a gameshow host, she began greeting everyone. Abigail looked stunning and she stepped up on a small podium and welcomed everyone to the Ball. As she introduced everyone (though we really didn’t need it), she mentioned that her husband Tom was already joining us.

At that moment, she walked over to a room divider screen and pulled it back. Behind the screen was a man with the most restraints I have ever seen on a human being. Tom was attached to a wooden X frame. His arms and his legs were bound in leather splints. His feet and hands spread eagle. He had on a Carerra chastity belt with a giant pelvic chamber for his manhood to be locked away forever. His hands were bound in rubber fist mitts. He wore a total sensory deprivation hood and a posture collar. There is no way he could see, hear, or move an inch. I have never seen anything like it and in a way, I sort of envied him. Abigail explained that since she could not be restrained tonight, Tom would be wearing hers for her. He would remain there for all of our viewing pleasure all night.

We all turned back to each other and looked at each other's faces in amazement. Partly because we knew Tom was tucked away in that mountain of steel and leather but also because we knew that the host rotated and someday it would be our turn. How do you top that? We don’t even own half the stuff Tom was strapped into. I can only guess that he will be sore tomorrow.

It was just then that Abigail came over to our gathered group and began complimenting everyone’s look for the evening. She was extra kind to us, as this was our first time out in the open. She complimented Amy’s blouse and skirt. She said she looked like an upscale attorney who had just been arrested and was being taken to trial. She looked at me and quickly whispered to Amy something I couldn’t hear. Based on the look on their faces, I think it had something to do with their own personal pleasure knowing I was pretty helpless without those keys.

She reached out to each of us in the circle and she introduced the agenda for the evening. She pointed to food, drinks, and where the facilities were located. You could, in fact, get some temporary relief if you had to use the facilities. The catch was that when you came out, you had to wear a blindfold for 30 min as punishment for the short freedom. I was quite proud of how much thought had been put into the event. There wasn’t anything that was ignored. I looked over to Amy and told her that she might think twice about going to the restroom… you never know what someone will do to you when you are blindfolded, can’t see them coming, and because of your restraints, can’t really stop them either.

Abigail also introduced a couple of games. First she explained that all keys would be handed out at the end of the night except for one pair. These would arrive by a carrier tomorrow morning at exactly 9:00 AM. Additionally, there would be two random key drawings through the night. One would be at 8:00 and another at 10:00. Each contestant would be allowed out of their restraints. But only to be re-restrained. And it wasn’t likely to be easier. At 8:00 someone was going to spend 30 minutes in the upright cage.

This is a narrow jail cell just big enough for one person to stand. You can’t bend over, turn around or even scratch your knee. Arms are cuffed through the bars so you can’t adjust yourself. And to make it just a little bit more embarrassing, all your protesting won’t be heard because your mouth will be filled with a giant red ball gag.

At 10:00 a member would be bound in the restraint chair. Simple as it sounds, this is a regular-looking wooden chair however, there are a couple of simple additions. First the hands and feet have a nylon strap that holds them tightly to the arm/foot rests. Chest, waist and thighs are strapped in as well. And of course, the same red ball gag prevents any troublesome complaints. Thirty minutes isn’t bad… who can’t do that. And not to mention, there is a low chance I’ll get drawn and if Amy gets drawn… well I can’t say I’d be sad to see that.

We began to mingle. Abigail had at least two different areas where you can drink from straws if you didn’t have use of your hands. It wasn’t long till we had the first wardrobe malfunction of the night. Angie and Cheryl were comparing and debating which was worse… Hand stuck out in front of you in a fiddle or hand stuck out to the side in a yoke. Cheryl had a good point that hands in front made it really hard to open doors but hands out to the side made it impossible to cover yourself if you are feeling a little embarrassed.

But Angie had nothing to be embarrassed of… until… at that moment, the top button on her blouse slipped through and she was fully exposed on her left breast. I’m not sure exactly how it happened. All I can imagine is that the button was under a ton of pressure. In either case, Angie made a rapid pull on both her wrists to try to cover herself but it was almost comical how useless that attempt was.

We all stood there looking at her until it seemed awkward and it was clear someone should help her. Amy jumped in to save her quickly. She was able to pull the material back together but couldn’t get the blouse closed. She settled for tucking her breast back into the black bra and it was arousing to watch Amy handle Angie's breast. I glanced over and everyone was watching so I didn’t feel bad. Each of the girls laughed it off and Cheryl conceded that hands out to the side was way worse. About that time, Abigail announced the first key draw. She pulled a set of keys and read the name on the tag: Cheryl.

Cheryl was chosen at random for the 8:00 cage challenge. The look on her face spoke volumes. It was a combination of embarrassment and fear of the unknown. Her eyes were as wide as you can imagine as she looked around for a tall metal cage. And when her eyes found it, standing upright in the corner, her head hung low. Everyone cheered and encouraged her as she made the walk of shame over to the cage. Remember, Cheryl was wearing the purple corset, under bra, and red panties.

She walked over to the cage and Abigail greeted her with a smile that was as deviant as it was welcoming. She politely unlocked the padlock on Cheryl's fiddle and removed it from around her neck. She laid the fiddle in the corner (because she knew that it was going back on after the 8:00 challenge.), Cheryl stepped into the cage and Abigail quickly shut the door and applied the intentionally oversized padlock. Interestingly, the padlock was a combination lock that we all wondered who had the code. But we knew Abigail may be the only one who could set her free.

Once inside, Cheryl's hands were down to her side. She adjusted her panties and bra to ensure everything was covered. She really didn’t like being on such a display. Once she had her panties centered and corset pushed up in position, she put her hands through the bars like a prisoner being transported. Abigail ratcheted the standard issue Smith and Wesson cuffs on her left hand.

This is the moment in every sub’s life, when you know that as soon as that cuff ratchets on your other hand, you are helpless. You cannot scratch your nose, adjust your hair, cover your privates, or even adjust your panties or bra. You are at the full and complete mercy of the dom. And as the second cuff clicked, you could see Cheryl fully concede. Abigail then quickly pulled Cheryl's hair up high and tightened a ball gag around her face.

We were all a little surprised at how tight Abigail had pulled the gag but we knew it was only for 30 minutes and Cheryl would be ok. What we didn’t expect was what came next. Abigail placed a metal collar around Cheryl's neck that had 4 D rings. She attached a lock in the back of the collar and 4 pieces of chain to each of the D rings. The other end of the pieces of the chain was attached tightly to hooks on the cell corners This, in effect, held Cheryl's neck exactly in the middle of the cage without any opportunity to move it. Even more, it fully prevented Cheryl from being able to look down at her incredibly sexy body.

Asked if she was ok, Cheryl confirmed with a nod and an “ughhuh”. Lastly, the cage was attached to a wench by a pulley on the ceiling. Her cage was lifted in the air about two feet to give her the imbalance that comes with a lack of control. The music came back up and the party continued. Everyone walked by and admired Cheryl's situation. It was truly embarrassing for her. Most guests were at eye height with her crotch as they walked around. Several stopped and stared at her very tight red panties and noticed that they left little to the imagination. Before the half-hour could elapse, the red panties had a wet spot in the middle of the crotch that couldn’t be ignored.

Around 8:40 in the evening, Abigail lowered Cheryl to the ground, released her restraints including the ballgag, and opened the cage. Cheryl was pretty uneasy on her feet for a few seconds. Abigail allowed Cheryl to “adjust herself” and then she rapidly replaced the fiddle Cheryl had worn to the party and placed Cheryl’s lock back on the fiddle. She scurried back over to Jeremy and he gave her a wink that I think meant more than just “good job, babe.” If I were to guess, Jeremy is going to be ordering a metal cage and a wench from the internet next week.

As the party continued, there were several toasts, public comments, and observations. Abigail was working the room quite nicely making sure that everyone was having a good time. She would even hold drinks up so players could drink through a straw. She was an amazing host and incredibly beautiful. We all strolled by and talked to Todd… still spread out on the x-frame. He didn’t talk back much. Some of the ladies took the liberty to rub a shoulder or arm on his Carerra belt. He was a very good sub. I don’t know how anyone could tolerate that level of restraint.

Time flew by, and before long, Abigail got back on the wooden steps to make another announcement. Abigail reached in the basket of keys and pulled out a set that looked disturbingly familiar. She then read the nametag: John C. That’s my name. Oh no. I was not prepared for this. As I mentioned earlier, I haven’t ever been under the full control of someone else. My stomach sank and yet on the inside, a little bit of me was sort of giddy.

I waddled over to the chair where Abigail was beaming with excitement. She really does enjoy the restraining part of this. She quickly removed my standard transport chains. As instructed, I sat in the wooden chair and pressed my back against the chair. Within seconds, she had both of my arms and hands restrained. She then tightened belts against my legs and ankles holding them firmly against the chair. She said that too often, subs will communicate with their hands, so she wrapped my hands in bondage tape so thick, I couldn’t move a finger. My fists were just like clubs attached to the ends of my arms – which were also helpless. I would guess there were 8 straps per arm and even more for the legs. She placed a chest harness across my chest to keep me pinned back at a right angle. Next, a collar was put around my neck and clipped to the headrest behind me. Lastly, a harness gag was placed in my mouth and was so tight I couldn’t even move my tongue. At all. The harness was also attached to the headrest so no motion front, back or side to side. I had no way to communicate except by blinking.

Whether it was intentional or not, as Abigail was placing the harness gag, she needed to get closer. The armrest was just below waist high and Abigail straddled the armrest to get close enough to my face to fasten my restraints. Only her crotch was on my taped hand. And by on my hand, I mean she was grinding on my hand. Her giant breasts in her perfectly white bra were directly in my face and I could not look away. I was so rock hard, I just hoped everyone couldn’t tell.

Now, earplugs followed by ear muffs would be the final piece. I was helpless. Completely. As people came around to admire my situation, they talked back and forth and laughed. Only I couldn’t tell what they were saying. Giggles, pointing, and banter but I didn’t know if they were laughing at me or my situation. The longest 30 minutes of my life went by at a snail’s pace. All I could think about was poor Tom on the x-frame. At last, nearly 40 minutes after I sat in the chair I was free. Well, as free as you can be after you are totally locked back in transport chains. But I could hear and talk. It's crazy how much you miss being able to know what is going on when you are helpless.

The remainder of the evening was just as entertaining. There were a handful of wardrobe malfunctions. There was a photo booth. One of the rules of the house was that everyone had to pose for a photo. This was to ensure that no one released the story of the party or they too would have their picture published on social media as well. This kept everyone quiet.

As midnight struck, the party was over. Abigail went back to the stage one last time to begin handing keys. As she pulled out keys, she gave them to their partner and they began the process of unlocking one another. Amy’s keys came out early and she got free. My name was quietly missing from every announcement. In fact, there were only two people left in restraints as the last name was called. Me, in my orange jumpsuit and transport chains and Angie in her secretary yoke with both hands out to the side.

What came next was a pleasant surprise to both of us. Abigail pulled out my keys and I was released. This meant that Angie had to go home in the yoke. She wouldn’t get it off until tomorrow morning. For real. She looked pretty worried and her husband David came over to give her a little consolation. He looked her in the face and told her that these are the rules and we had to play by them. But that he would do everything for her for the next 12 hours. He then grabbed both of her breasts in a playful manner and I don’t think Angie appreciated the gesture.

Nonetheless, Angie and David left first, out the front door. Angie had to sit in the back seat of the car because her spreader bar was so wide. As they drove away, I have to admit that I sort of wished it had been Amy whose keys were kept overnight. There is always next time!


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