June Will Submit! by Master Ivan

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mrivan
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June Will Submit! by Master Ivan

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June Will Submit!

by Master Ivan

"So, what's the stakes?"

June had enjoyed her games of strip poker with her lover, Michael. The thrill of taking control when she won was far exceeded by the greater thrill of losing control when she lost. She pushed Michael for even higher stakes.

He considered her question. "Alright. If you win, I'll eat you to two orgasms before we fuck. If you lose, you get tied for the night, whipped, suck me on demand until morning, and you don't come."

Her eyes became fire as she considered the possibilities. Clearly, the stakes were uneven. They had grown so consistently over the time they had played the game. She even provoked him sometimes with comments like, "Only a dozen strokes?", or, "Just one blowjob would end awfully fast," and, "My elbows, you could tie them together too, couldn't you?" She had grown so addicted to the losing role that she practically went out of her way to take obvious dives on some hands. The only thing she hadn't done was beg openly for full enslavement.

They played. She lost quickly. Moments later, her wrists were crossed behind her back and bound. She struggled playfully, inviting more restraint, which Michael gratefully provided. Soon, her elbows were joined, her ankles crossed and bound in a way that forced her knees to remain widely spread, and her breasts were tightly wrapped as well, turning them into two bright red balls of fire on her chest.

"Well, now you look like you're finally where you belong: on your knees, open, breasts inviting abuse, mouth ready for a good face-fuck! The only question is, where should I whip you?"

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply in her heat. Looking back at him, she said, "I'm helpless to stop you. You could whip me anywhere, I'm totally yours..." Her eyes closed again, and she shuddered, her breasts shaking invitingly.

Michael accepted the invitation. He used a caisson belt, one which had a third of its length sliced into nine thin separate lashes. He gave her breasts a dozen strokes, with June screaming on every one. He had her bend over, her ass in the air, and lashed her asscheeks for another dozen. Finally, thoroughly aroused, he dropped the whip, brought out his cock, and taking two tight handfuls of her hair, thrust forcefully into her mouth, burying himself in her throat on the first stroke.

He used her brutally, and quickly deposited his load both in her mouth and on her face. She moaned in arousal, her eyes closed as her frustration mounted. Before she recovered and opened her eyes, he blindfolded her. For several hours, he kept her bound, changing her ropes only often enough to insure her proper blood circulation. He did not speak to her, but allowed her mind to wander in her deepest, now real, fantasies. He used her mouth twice more before the evening ended and bound her on the floor at the foot of the bed when he finished with her.

The pattern repeated itself frequently. Soon, the idea of her winning the game became undesirable for both of them. They retained the game, however, to create a range of possibilities for June's ordeals. Sometimes, June would play only for the right to come while in bondage. Other times, their relative scores in various games would be converted to whipstrokes, or time in severe restraint, or the number of times she would have to suck Michael to orgasm before being permitted to come herself.

One night, he bound her on her back on the coffee table. Her head hung over the end, her arms pulled back over her head and bound to the table's base. Her legs were doubled up, each ankle bound to its thigh. Her knees were spread and pulled apart by the ropes. He sat in a chair and used her mouth as he watched his favorite videotapes and played their whip over her cunt as he wished.

He asked her once, "June, would you like to simply become my slave, full time?"

June hesitated. "I don't know. I don't want to lose touch with freedom; that would lessen the impact of things when you do take me in hand. And I just love the excitement of the games, when we gamble for serious stakes. Still, if you were to command me, out of the blue, to submit to you, that would be just as exciting to anticipate."

They played a game that night. She would pay off her loss at an unspecified time over the next two days with no warning. She lost to the tune of thirty strokes, three hours in heavy bondage, and three orgasms given to Michael without reciprocation. They made conventional love that night, as well as the following night, with no talk of the debt.

The next afternoon, June was about to start making a sandwich in the kitchen when Michael grabbed her from behind. She was stripped, her hands were bound, her mouth gagged with her own moist panties, and she was dragged into the living room by her hair.

As she screamed through her gag, Michael drew her bound arms high behind her, bending her over, with a rope connected from her wrists to an eyebolt in the ceiling. Immediately, he gave her the full thirty strokes on her very vulnerable ass, this time with another caisson belt, doubled up. Without releasing her bonds, he circled around to her front and plowed into her throat, again using her hair to painfully control her movements. Finishing quickly, he watched her swallow the first load, then replaced her gag.

He left her for an hour, only checking on her occasionally for safety's sake, as well as to enjoy her suffering. When the hour ended, he took her again, this time in the ass. She screamed through her gag, as this was a variation they used infrequently. He ordered her to use her muscles to enhance his pleasure in her ass, and warned her of severe punishment if she came while being ass-fucked. He finished again, and removed her gag only long enough to have her clean him with her mouth. He replaced the gag and left her for perhaps another half-hour.

He then switched her bondage. Leaving her arms bound, he lowered her to the floor, then bound her right ankle to her wrists. Her left ankle was hoisted up by the ceiling rope, until her ass was high in the air and her head and wracked shoulders were all that remained touching the floor.

Michael made himself some lunch. Some stir-fried beef, with a light salad, and some rolls. He sat by the punished, suffering June, allowing her to watch him eat. He enjoyed her ordeal, especially the pleading eyes which he knew begged for release while silently hoping she would remain captive. He asked her, "Hungry, slut?" She moaned, nodding her head. He removed her gag and resumed his seat. She watched him, questioningly, as he continued to eat. Finally, he tossed her a piece of the meat. It landed several inches from her face, on the hardwood floor. Struggling painfully, June managed to wriggle around far enough to pick up the meat in her teeth and eat it.

"You know, June, that eating while under punishment has a price attached. If you wish to enjoy lunch with me, do you agree to pay the price, without knowing what I have in mind?"

"Yes, Master." Michael noted her form of address with satisfaction. They had not discussed this, but she knew instinctively that it was correct.

He clamped her nipples with a pair of clothespins. She moaned in fear when she saw them, and again with the pain as they were clipped on. Worse, as she struggled to pick up the thrown scraps of beef, her breasts frequently pressed into the hard floor, intensifying her tit-torture. She suffered for nearly an hour before painfully finishing her lunch, and an additional half-hour that it took her mouth to bring him to his third orgasm of the day.

As weeks followed, Michael would more and more frequently thrust an ordeal upon June with no warnings, provocations or preliminaries. Once, she exited the shower, naked, to find Michael standing there with a length of rope. He bound her wrists high overhead, lashed her ass severely, then left her to hang until her body dried. When he finally lowered her wrists some two hours later, he stepped between her arms, her still-bound wrists now behind his back, and she dove hungrily at his cock, burying it deep in her throat, sucking him madly as if it was her last meal.

Another time, they sat down to watch a lengthy bondage videotape, both of them already aroused. Only minutes into the tape, he dragged her onto the coffee table and bound her face down, spread wide, by her wrists and ankles. He whipped her ass for a couple of dozen strokes, welting her, then buried his cock in her ass. After his orgasm, he laid down on her bound body, his cock still inside her ass, enjoying the videotape, until his erection returned, then fucked her ass once more, taking significantly longer to come the second time. It was well over an hour before he finally withdrew and came to her mouth to be cleaned.

June bore it all not only willingly, but hungrily. She frequently provoked him, dared him to intensify her submission, while wallowing in her degradation. He often simply prohibited her from dressing indoors, then began limiting her dress outside as well. While she generally exercised total freedom when not being commanded or used, she nevertheless obeyed him implicitly whenever he gave his orders.

Once, they ate out in one of the better restaurants. He wore a suit, she had on tight slacks and a snug, sheer white blouse. He observed, "I've always been in love with your tits, June. Its not just the size, you know I love them big, like yours are. But they are so tight, without the slightest hint of a sag. I don't know why you bother with a bra."

"I'm glad you like them, Michael. I love to turn you on. But you know, with this blouse, I have to wear the bra . . ."

"No you don't, slut."

"Michael?"

"Go to the restroom. Remove the bra, and bring it back to me!"

June blanched. This was a new arena for her, exposure in the public eye. She knew her nipples and aureoles would be clearly visible through the blouse, and everyone who saw her would see the difference instantly. As she hesitated, Michael made matters worse.

"I'm timing you, starting now. For every two minutes I have to wait, you'll have one button removed from your blouse. The clock goes off when you hand me your bra."

She shuddered in anticipation and fear. Her erect nipples were already visible, even through the bra. The blouse had only six buttons, and it would not take the removal of many of them to make her blouse totally obscene in its exposure. She moved quickly to the restroom.

Michael watched in admiration as she returned. Her breasts were magnificent, much more so now as they thrust out unhampered against the thin blouse. With only two buttons undone at the top of the blouse, almost three inches of her decolletege was revealed already. She took her seat, very self-conscious now of the movement of her breasts within the blouse. She surreptitiously passed him the bra.

"You took six minutes, June. Pluck off the top three buttons of your blouse, right now!"

Knowing she was being watched by at least half of the men in the place, she plucked off the first two buttons. These were not too much of a threat, as they were already unbuttoned. The third one, however, had a dramatic effect. It caused her swelling breasts to pull open the tight blouse, exposing her entire cleavage to the bottom edge of her tits, and revealing a substantial portion of her breast-meat. Now, her swollen nipples made twin tents in her ever-shrinking blouse, and she could swear that even her blood vessels and pores were outlined through the material. Worse, every time she moved, even to breathe, her breasts jiggled, causing the material to rub on her already aroused nipples, keeping her arousal at a fever pitch. She could feel her cunt juicing, and she knew the odor of her arousal would soon permeate the air around them.

They finished the meal without further incident, aside from the fact that every male in the place who could see her had a visible erection, and several of those were now facing jealous wives.

Upon arrival home, June practically pounced on Michael, and they fucked conventionally on the living room floor.

Michael soon purchased some good leather restraints. While he didn't forego using rope on his love, he did enjoy the quick convenience of being able to shackle her in seconds according to his whims. He also liked having her do her housework naked, in serving chains. Included in the collection was a chastity belt, one equipped with removable, remote controlled vibrators for her cunt and ass. He had awakened her one morning, locked her into the belt with both dildos, used her mouth, then placed her in her chains to clean the house. As she worked, he informed her of his next plans.

"You'll be opening some new doors this afternoon, cunt."

"Master?" The title by now was standard, whenever he controlled her.

"I'm not telling you what, only that it will begin at five P.M. today."

Her arousal grew visibly as the day wore on. When the house was finished, inspected, June's ass whipped and the shortcomings corrected, Michael ordered her to prepare dinner. To her shock, he ordered dinner for four people.

Worse, although the food would feed four, there were only three place settings allowed. No words were spoken; she would wait on the table as Michael entertained two guests. And she would be fed only at the mercy of the guests.

During the dinner preparations, Michael interrupted her to have her put on some shoes. These were clearly bedroom shoes--opera pumps with heels a full six inches high. And they were clearly not to be removed without permission, as they included locking ankle straps. Now, finishing the preparations would be a challenge, as she had to move about quickly while wearing the heels and her chains. If she was ordered to her knees, it would be an act of mercy. And if she dropped anything, or stumbled ungracefully, she knew the punishment would be severe. On top of that, the dildos locked into her lower holes also effected her walk. Combined with the heels and chains, the total effect was devastating.

At quarter to five, June was commanded to kneel in the middle of the living room floor, facing the door, and lace her fingers together behind her neck. Elbows back, chest thrust out proudly, knees separated to their limit, she awaited the humiliation to come. Worst of all, aside from the time announcement and the number of seats prepared, she knew nothing of who would be coming and what would be expected of her.

It suddenly occurred to her, she was to be kept locked in her chastity belt. It certainly did not escape her awareness that she would likely be expected to sexually service the guests. With her ass and cunt unavailable, she would be reduced to serving all three of them with her mouth alone. Also, she had anticipated only men to be there, but who could deny that a female might be included as well; perhaps both guests would be female.

Her questions were answered promptly at five P.M. The bell rang, and as June held her exposed position, Michael welcomed his guests. Indeed, they were a couple, male and female. Their names were Bill and Emily. They expressed little shock at seeing June there, only enjoyment of her predicament. They had clearly been briefed, and they might even know about her concealed vibrators.

"Consider her yours," Michael began, after his greetings. She will serve as cook, maid, bartender, valet, even as a foot rest if you wish. You may use or abuse her in any way you'd like, punish her for any hesitation or disobedience; in short, no limits."

She was made to take their coats, then serve drinks. In spite of her heels, she served without mishap. As dinner was cooking, their commands were more oriented towards her exposure and humiliation. She was made to pose with back arched, or legs spread, or offering her breasts with her hands. A large dildo was produced, and she was made to hold it deep in her mouth as she served, eventually bringing out the food.

The two guests and her Master shed much of their clothes before eating. Michael retained his bathrobe; Bill wore a posing pouch covered by a towel, and Emily was dressed to kill in thigh boots and a corset, leaving her breasts and cunt exposed.

June's wrists were cuffed behind her, and she was brought under the dinner table. "We don't want to come while eating, June, but some stimulation would be in order. Why don't you crawl to Bill and suck his cock for him."

Now red-faced, she moved as ordered. She quickly took his cock in her mouth and gently stroked it, suckling it.

"Don't let him come yet, slut. You'll be swallowing his come later, after you've been properly whipped."

She backed off a bit, now fearful, but did not allow his cock to leave her mouth. Five minutes passed, during which they engaged in only light conversation, seemingly ignoring June in her ordeal. Then, Emily quipped, "Stop hogging that suck-slave, Bill. Send her over here!"

As she began to crawl towards Emily, Bill reached down with his hand open, holding a piece of meat. June ate it from his hand, humiliated. She then went to Emily and began servicing her with her mouth. Another five minutes passed. A voice called out, "Next!" There was laughter, and she crawled to Michael, after being fed another table scrap by Emily. For a good hour and a half, they rotated the use of her mouth, feeding her at every switch, until she had finished her own share of the food, earning every bite by sucking her three tormentors.

Dinner ended, and she was released to clear the dishes and serve brandy. She was not allowed to drink herself. She was bound again, wrists overhead, from a swivel-hook near the fireplace, then blindfolded. A bar was bound to her ankles, spreading them some three feet apart.

They played cards awhile, as June hung and was warmed by the fire. They played poker. At the end of each hand, the winner came to June and delivered five strokes with the cat. All her body was available, from her shoulders, back and tits all the way down to her shins. Her ass received its fair share, as well.

Eventually, they tired of the card game, and wanted heavier action. Michael suggested, "Bill, why don't you start things rolling--take our slave-pig there, and use her any way you'd like..."

Bill stood and looked at her, considering. "I enjoy using severe bondage. May I experiment?"

"Certainly. She's all yours!"

There was an eyebolt on the ceiling about four feet away from the one above the slave. Using a pulley, he ran a rope from it to another eyebolt at the center of her leg-spreader. He lowered June's wrists somewhat, then surprised the blindfolded slave by hoisting up suddenly on the new rope, pulling her legs out from under her. She hung, severely arched, her wrists overhead, her spread ankles equally high. Her entire front side was stretched and vulnerable.

Bill used the cat gingerly, more interested in scaring the hanging slave than applying new welts. He delivered two dozen light strokes to her tits, stomach, thighs, ass, and vertically, to her crotch. He quickly had her sweating. He then stood by her face and pushed his cock into her mouth.

As he stood motionless, June tried moving to get him off, but with her severe bondage, she could do little, and what little she did hurt her badly. Smiling, Bill took her hair in hand, and pumped her throat. His right hand still held the cat, and he applied it liberally, enjoying the feeling her responses gave to his cock through her mouth. Even better, with her head bent back severely to service him, her throat was ideally presented for the deepest penetration. He took full advantage of that fact, and came in her mouth in minutes.

Emily followed immediately. "Michael, could you turn on her rear dildo?"

"Certainly!" Seconds later, June felt the large dildo vibrating powerfully in her ass.

She was turned over as she hung, so that she faced upward, her wrists and ankles still holding her weight. She was aware of the close proximity of her mouth to Emily's already open cunt.

Emily requested, and was given, a bag of spring clothespins. "Let's play a game called, 'How much torture does our slave-pig want to endure before she sucks me to orgasm?' We'll do it like this. As I straddle her mouth, Michael, why don't you beat her ass with a strap. While she sucks, I'll clip a clothespin on her every minute or so. When I come, she can rest, as is, with however many clothespins it takes, for half an hour."

Smiles were exchanged, approval granted. As June's face was mounted, she felt the first stroke on her ass. Seconds later, her left nipple felt the first clothespin.

She licked and sucked when she could, when her mouth was not occupied screaming. She received another clothespin, this one on her right nipple. More pins followed, alternating between her torso and her breast flesh. She swallowed a great deal of Emily's juice, and she received over two dozen clothespins before Emily finally came, bathing her face. Worst of all, the dildo in her ass still vibrated strongly, keeping her close, but not allowing her the relief of orgasm. The other dildo filling her cunt remained silent. After Emily came, she filled June's mouth with a cock-gag, then the three of them relaxed on the couch, watching her suffer for the previously mentioned half-hour.

Michael himself was not to be outdone. He turned off her vibrator, then came to her face, his cock at the ready. He removed her cock-gag, then said, "Stick your tongue up my ass. Leave it there while I remove your clothespins. If I feel it come out, I'll knock off the remaining clothespins with a riding crop!"

She groaned, suffering, knowing it would now get worse. She was still very aroused, and soon had her tongue well up inside his ass, as ordered.

He pulled off a clothespin. Somehow, she held her tongue in place as she screamed. He was being particularly cruel: rather than squeezing the clothespin to remove it gently, he literally pulled it off by one of its ends, intentionally making the process much more painful. After he had pulled off perhaps eight pins from her body and four more from her breast-meat, she screamed in agony and lost the penetration of her tongue.

Now, it would get worse. He told her, "O.K., if you don't enjoy the taste of my asshole, you can suck my balls!" She opened wide, obediently, and he lowered his balls into her mouth. It was her nose, now, which penetrated his asshole, making it more difficult to breathe.

She could not see the strokes. When the first blow came, knocking off a pin from above her left hip, the pain was triple what it had been. She knew the motion of her mouth around his balls stimulated him as she screamed, and knew also that she had to be careful not to bite him, shuddering at the thought of what punishments that would earn. She did what she could with her tongue.

Michael worked up from her lower torso, leaving the clothespins on her tits for last. Scream after scream followed as he whipped the pins off her flesh, and she was sweating profusely, her body glowing in the heat of the nearby fire.

Soon, he began knocking the pins from her breasts. Again, her pain rose an order of magnitude as her more sensitive breast-meat was tortured. Eventually, only the two pins clamping her nipples were left.

He pulled his balls out of her mouth, replacing them with his cock. He commanded, "Come, bitch!", and turned on both her vibrators. In seconds, she was moaning around his cock, coming in buckets, screaming out in her pain-pleasure.

With her orgasm over, her pain returned. The vibrators had been stopped. Her limbs ached in her four-point suspension; she had now hung over an hour and a half. Her flesh stung from her welts, and the clothespins left marks all over her. The two last clothespins, those on her nipples, still remained, and had been in place for an hour. And with her Master's erect cock filling her mouth, his balls draped over her face, his asshole all she could see, the humiliation flooded through her in her post-orgasmic afterglow, knowing the two people she had already sucked off were enjoying the sight of her intensely.

"Now, slave, suck me to orgasm!"

She was allowed little initiative. He rammed his cock down her throat, making the few motions of her lips and tongue irrelevant. She suffered the penetration on top of the humiliation and the pain, helpless to stop or resist in any way. Minutes later, he whipped the last two clothespins from her nipples, and in the middle of her screams, came in her mouth.

The three of them sat together and watched her another fifteen or twenty minutes before finally lowering her to the floor. Her wrists were locked behind her back, she was leashed, and she laid on the floor at her Master's feet.

Michael bid farewell to his guests and escorted them out. An hour later, he freed her restraints and, after a shower and a nitecap for both of them, they walked into their bedroom. He sat on the bed, and patted the mattress next to him, inviting June to sit. Declining the seat, she knelt on the floor in front of him, knees spread, wrists crossed behind her.

"You're free now, June. You've done well--I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Master. But I must confess, I've been wrong."

"What do you mean, June?"

"For one thing, about not wanting to stop being a free woman. I thought being a slave was a constant discipline, with no variety. I have learned, though, that my chains can be very loose or extremely tight, the whip can fall either hard or soft, and I might have a dozen orgasms in a day, then be denied pleasure for a week if you so desire. I've learned that being a slave excites me far more than anything, because I am always under your command and your discipline."

Michael smiled down at her, pleased. "And what else?"

"I can take much more pain, punishment and abuse than I thought I could, and it all turns me on more than I dared to imagine."

"And is there more?"

"Yes, Master. I discovered that not only can I endure it, not only can I enjoy it, but I need it, desperately!"

He paused to think, looking down at her. She held position, her body revealed to his gaze, her cunt visibly open and juiced up again. After a moment, he spoke.

"June, I love you. Tonight, you deserve a reward. If enslavement is the reward you desire, you shall have it. Tell me what form you yourself would like your enslavement to take tonight, then get me some toys to use on you."

She thought carefully, weighing the possibilities.

"Master, it troubles me that most of my clothes conceal my body much more than a slave should be concealed. I would like to go through my clothes and get rid of the ones that are not appropriate for a slave."

"Yes, slave. Go on."

She crawled on her knees to the corner of the room where their leather was stored and picked up several items.

"I'm very aroused, Master. Given a moment's freedom, I would touch myself to get off. If you would lock on my chastity belt, I would know my pleasure is subject to your whims, and that your pleasure is all that's important."

He locked on her chastity belt. "Continue, slut."

Her breathing picked up a notch as her arousal built with her submission.

"Master, it is my belief that a slave should always be collared, and should be leashed whenever serving her Master."

"I agree, slut." He noticed that the collar she chose was stiff, heavy leather, a severe three inches wide. He locked it in place around her neck.

"Master, my hands would get into trouble if left free, and would probably be tempted to touch or conceal my body. If you could lock them out of the way behind my back, it would eliminate that problem, as well as presenting my breasts for your greater enjoyment."

"You are again correct, cunt." He locked her hands.

"Finally, Master, it occurs to me that my most important function as your slave is being your personal cock-sucker. I would feel obligated to please you at least once more before you go to sleep. But still, there is one more thing."

"Yes, slut?"

"After you've whipped me a bit more, I might still forget my place as I suck you. I think if you were to clamp my nipples beforehand, and only remove the clothespins if I please you properly, I would be more unselfish and devoted to serving your cock."

"I agree, totally! Turn around, first, and put your ass up, your face to the floor!"

She assumed the position, perfectly. "Now, ask me properly for each stroke and thank me after every one!"

"Please, Master, whip my ass!" The stroke fell, she screamed as her old welts were reawakened, then she said, "Thank you, Master. May I please have another?"

A dozen strokes into it, he stopped, and said, "Give me a clothespin with your teeth!" She obeyed.

"Do you feel your tits need to be clamped at this time?"

"Yes, Master. Please clamp my nipples."

He applied one clothespin, then had her hand him the second pin, again with her teeth. He applied it to her other nipple, then ordered her again into position for more of the whip. He gave her another dozen, all individually requested and acknowledged by his slave.

He stood before her, his cock an inch from her lips. She hungered for it, her pain increasing that hunger.

"Would you enjoy it if I now forced you to suck me to orgasm, even if you yourself might not be allowed to come for at least twenty-four hours, maybe more?"

June smiled, eyes closed, deep in her slave heat. "Yes, Master. I would enjoy that a great deal."

"You realize the clothespins remain in place until you swallow my come, perhaps longer."

"Of course, Master."

"Suppose I bound you in such a way as to keep my cock in your mouth until morning?"

"Oh, Master, that's my favorite fantasy!"

He used her leash. From her collar, he passed it between his legs, pulling her mouth down onto his cock as he did so. It went up between his ass-cheeks, then he knotted it around his waist. Now, her mouth was bound onto his cock.

He slowly backed into the bed, dragging June with him. She dutifully sucked him off, without rushing him, prolonging his pleasure well beyond a half hour. The entire time, her tit-clamps tortured her unremittingly. When he shot his load down her throat for the third time that day, she also moaned in pleasure. In fact, he forgot to remove her clothespins until another hour passed. She did not complain, but continued to nurse on his cock. She did indeed remain attached to his cock until morning.

Yes, he had a rare slave. He knew she loved her enslavement and would always seek out more of it. And he knew, whatever he commanded her to do, whatever he subjected her to, June would submit . . .


Master Ivan
Copyright © 1992
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