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The Natural Couple

Chapter 8

By Richard Campbell

It was a week before Jonathan began to come out of his state of shock and realise that he was in deep trouble. He could cope with everything, however humiliating or unpleasant by keeping the image of Jimmy and his love for him in the forefront of his mind, except for one thing. And that was the attitude of the other prisoners. He was in a cell by himself, something for which he had been thankful at first, but as he became more aware of what was going on around him, it dawned on him that this was for his own protection and not because of any sympathy for him on the part of the prison officers. If anything, they disliked even him more than the prisoners did, hating his accent, the way he spoke, and everything about him. It hadn't taken long for the reason for his incarceration to permeate the entire prison population and from that point, life was not only a misery, but frankly terrifying.

Although separated from the others most of the time, during meals and the short daily exercise period in the yard he was forced to mingle with the hardened lags who formed the bulk of the population. He quickly learned to stay near the guards, but they would become surprisingly deaf and blind at times and he was soon beginning to show bruises, some of which he received right under the warders' eyes. Then after two weeks of steadily rising insults, threats and physical abuse, it all stopped. And that in a way, after his first feeling of relief, was even more frightening.

Jonathan was not a coward but some of the things hissed at him had made his blood run cold, and he started to wonder how long he would be able to survive, and if he did, whether it would be worth it. As soon as he was more himself, he had tried to come to terms with a twelve year sentence. It represented the length of time he had lived since he was thirteen years old! And he didn't think that he could take it. He would be thirty seven when he came out, Jimmy would be twenty eight and it was unreasonable to expect an attractive boy like him to wait that long. He tried to tell himself that as long as Jimmy was happy, even with someone else, it would be alright. But it wasn't much help and he cried himself to sleep as quietly as he could manage. From then on, he simply would not allow himself to think about it, and reverted to thinking of Jimmy and dreaming about him as the only way to keep himself sane.

Brian visited him after he had been in prison a week and was shocked at the change in him already. He had lost weight, and looked ill. Brian did his best and several loving messages from Jimmy raised his spirits for a little while, but as soon as the short visit was over and he was back in his cell, black depression came down on him once again.

But he was young and fit, and eventually he started to take rather more interest in his surroundings and even investigated his cell more closely. It had obviously been occupied by a long term prisoner before him, and boredom forced him to indulge in the most minute inspection of it as a way of passing the time. This netted him a few objects that had been so cunningly hidden that he would never have found them had not the shear tedium of his existence driven him to it. The miscellany of small artefacts kept him amused for a time, but they were not very inspiring in themselves, and their interest value soon declined.

Though still a long way away, he had begun to look forward to Brian's next visit when the shower day for his block came round as it did once a week. The showers themselves were extremely primitive and barely warm. Each prisoner was supplied with a minute piece of soap and a miserably small and thin towel with which to dry themselves.

His first shower, much to his relief, had been taken on his own because of his separation from the other prisoners. Even so with only one guard to watch him it had been embarrassing in the long block with no partitions, simply a row of shower heads and a communal drain that ran against the back wall. Even in his misery he had felt the guard's eyes on him, with what he felt was prurient interest and had finished and dressed as quickly as he could.

This time when he was escorted to the shower block, he found that it was full of men and he was the last to arrive. He had never got used to dressing and undressing in front of other people except Jimmy, and he went scarlet as he slowly got out of his prison clothes, the cynosure of fifteen pairs of eyes. He was handed his soap, towel and clean set of faded clothes which he had to hang on the hook on the facing wall, then he walked as quickly as he could to the only vacant shower rose. All this took place in a deafening silence and his embarrassment began to be replaced by fear.

There was a feeling of menace and something else in the air, and much as he tried to tell himself that it was not aimed at him, he knew beyond any shadow of doubt that it was. As he soaped himself, aware that the men on each side of him were observing him with absorbed if silent interest, he suddenly identified the vibration that intermingled with the menace in the air. It was lust. And he was the object!

In an almost total panic he rinsed himself off rapidly walked to the hook, grabbed the inadequate towel and started to dry himself with his back to the shower stalls. He was about to climb, still damp, into his clothes when he saw that the guard had disappeared. At that moment, a hand clamped over his mouth, another on his shoulder turned him round and he saw them surrounding him.

Many already had erections. Wherever his frightened gaze fell there seemed to be another vicious hard-on, and to his fear driven mind they all seemed huge although in actual fact, only two of them were bigger than Jimmy's. It was the biggest of these that took him first.

One of them leant against the wall and cupping his hands into his armpits, pulled Jon's damp head into his belly so that his back was parallel to the floor. Hands dragged his legs apart, someone rubbed a wet cake of soap between his cheeks and then he felt a soapy finger going in, lubricating him.

"Okay Billy, " a voice said, "He's all yours. Open him up for us."

There was no reply, just a grunt and then hands pulled his buttocks apart and for an instance there was a cold breeze where the finger had been. And then he felt it. It seemed huge, and it was certainly large, but fortunately Billy, though a very big and powerful man, was a gentle character at heart except when in a homicidal rage, which was the reason he was in here in the first place. He took his time, savouring each inch of penetration to the full. Even so, it was agonising. Jon had accommodated Jimmy out of love and eventually come to enjoy it, but Jimmy had instinctively withdrawn then pushed and repeated this until Jon was used to him and comfortable. But this was rape and Billy was thicker and longer than Jimmy had been.

"Christ, he's tight," Billy said in a soft Birmingham accent and began to pile drive into him unmercifully. Tears of pain dripped out of Jon's squeezed shut eyes as he felt Billy's huge hands on his hips pulling him back so that he was impaled deeper than ever on that thrusting tube. He had no idea how long it was before the strokes lengthened and quickened and then there was a groan, five or six convulsive grunts and a heavy weight collapsed onto his back, panting. Then there was blessed relief for a moment, before the next one came in.

Billy, when eventually persuaded to withdraw, good-naturedly came round and despatched the one who had been holding Jon to the end of the line to wait his turn. He was powerful enough to grip Jon by the neck with one hand while the other hand gagged him. John was as helpless as if he was been held by two of them.

"Now," Billy said, giving Jon's neck an admonitory squeeze that had him gasping in pain, "If I take my hand off your mouth, you won't shout will you? Or scream if one of the lads is a mite rough," he added. "That's a good boy. You see," he said confidentially, "You're the prettiest thing I've seen since I got here, and I want to run my fingers over this soft skin of yours."

Jon, his face almost pressed onto the still erect penis drew a deep breath, as he felt the hand move with surprising gentleness down his throat and onto his chest. It lingered over his breasts, gently massaging the nipples in turn, before moving down to investigate his belly button. At that moment the second prisoner finished and the next took over and this was the other big one. Billy must have felt him tense as it started up him, because he moved his hand down and grabbed Jon's shrunken penis saying gently, "Relax. If you managed me, he's easy this one. Smaller than me." The last said a trifle boastfully.

It didn't feel much smaller to Jon, but perhaps the words helped or maybe it was the hand gently squeezing his cock, because he felt less pain, and anyway the man, carried away by the sight of Jon's smooth skin, came in about ten strokes.

As they came into him, one after another, Jon found he was getting an erection, slowly and tentatively and then it happened. Although he had long ago lost count, it was the last of the fifteen who did it. That one had long ago lost both his patience and his load from excitement, and when his turn came, although still hard, it took him a long time to come. He was also more adventurous than the others and putting a hand on Jon's chest pulled him upright away from Billy. Jon looked up to see Billy gazing with great enjoyment at his cock and this combined with the massage his prostate was receiving accelerated his cock to a rapid and throbbingly hard erection. He put his hand down to wank himself but Billy, with a reproving shake of his head, caught both his wrists and stretched Jon's arms out from the shoulders. The man screwing him was holding his hips and suddenly Jon knew he was going to come. Without anyone touching his cock, he was going to come and he was going to squirt all over the place.

Billy looked at his face and nodded. "Go on, it's your turn," and moved to one side.

As he felt the man determinedly drilling his rear end he began to feel the sweetness start gently in his cock. With each thrust up his rear, his prostrate released more lubricant which hung in a long string from the tip of his cock which began to tingle and throb. His cock wanted to come desperately, but his mind said no, I can't come like this, I've been raped, I won't come. But the climax was inexorable it came closer and closer, creeping up on him in spite of everything he tried, until overcome, his cock stiffened and the beautiful feeling powered into his cock, on and on until unable to contain it, it pulsed once, twice, three times, more, across the floor, thick, white and creamy, decorating the wall and floor in abstract swirls and pools.

When it was finally over and the smirking guard had returned to marshal them back to their cells, he was sore, bleeding and ashamed. Not because of being raped, he was sensible enough to realise that these things, in spite of the hysterical denials of the heterosexual world, happened all the time when non gay men were deprived of their usual outlets, but because he had come himself as a direct result. He felt that he had betrayed Jimmy and their love because he had reached his own climax. He spent an miserable night, unable to sleep because of the pain in his rear and wracked by guilt. To his horror he found he needed more sex and while he was masturbating caught himself thinking of the scene in the shower room and had to force his mind on to Jimmy as he climaxed. This had never happened to him before and by the morning, he was totally dazed and exhausted.

During the exercise period, the taunts and jeers were worse than ever. The news had got around and it soon penetrated his mind, that mixed up in the insults were more than a few lustful looks and quiet voiced suggestions as to what the speaker would like to do to him.

It was then that he made his decision. All that was needed was the planning to carry it out and the patience to choose the right moment. He knew that he would get only one chance. From that point onwards everything seemed to fall into place with a precision that looked as if it had been pre-ordained.

He looked up to find the large man, Billy, in front of him.

"You okay?"

Jon looked at him dully as Billy fell into step beside him too miserable even to wonder what he wanted.

"I ain't going to say sorry about yesterday," Billy said, "Because it was the best I've had for a long time, but I'm sorry that all the others did it to you too. Look kid," he went on when Jon didn't reply, "They're going to do it again and they won't be easy on you if I'm not there to stop them."

Jon glanced up at him, trying to force his frightened brain to take in what Billy meant.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Billy sighed at this innocence. "Jonathan, some of them are already planning to fuck you again and they might not wait until the next shower day either. There are ways you know, and you're young and pretty. They all want you. And this." He put a hand on Jon's buttocks and spoke with an air of finality.

Jon winced at his touch. They walked on in silence for a few minutes.

"What can I do?" he asked without much hope.

"There're a few things. I could help you, if you want."

Jonathan was quiet for a long moment. This wasn't being offered out of kindness.

"What would you want in return?" he asked slowly, though he was fairly certain that he knew.

"You," came the blunt reply.

Jonathan stood still. "And if I say no?"

"I'll have you anyway. I'll be first in the queue while someone else holds you," Billy said brutally. "And I won't bother to spoil everyone else's fun neither, I'll let them do what they want to you. I'm going to be out of here in a few week's time and then you'll have no-one to look out for you at all. This way, when I get out I pass you on to someone else. You'll be looked after."

Jon resumed walking, thinking hard. He could see the advantages. Already the fact that Billy was walking with him had ensured that no-one else was near. It made him realise that Billy must have considerable power, possibly because of his size. He was big, strong, and Jon suspected, very, very tough. He didn't seem to have much choice in the matter. Billy would be a more than adequate protector, and it seemed as if he would probably be a very bad enemy if he was turned down.

"You hurt me," he said in a low voice, trying to assess if he had any power over the man.

"I'm going to hurt you a lot more if you don't do what I say Jonathan," Billy said indifferently. "I'll be nice with you if you're nice with me. I saw what happened to you last night so don't try to make out you don't like being fucked. And we all know what you're in here for. The only reason you didn't come when I was up you was because you're not used to how big I am. We'll take care of that. When I've been up you a few times, you'll be stretched enough so it won't hurt no more."

He stopped and with a hand on his shoulder pulled Jon around to face him. "Fuck all this talk. Make up you mind now kid, or I'll go off to me mates."

Jon's shoulders sagged in pretend defeat. Billy fitted into his plans, but he needed to find out one more thing. "How long is it until you get out?"

"Three weeks, kid," Billy replied. "Enough time to set you up okay before I go. You're going to be in here a long time, might as well make the best of it."

Jonathan thought for a minute. This would probably be his best chance. I'm sorry it has to be like this Jimmy, he said in his mind, but there's no other way.

"Alright," he said quietly.

Billy nodded. There was no look of triumph or achievement in his face. He had known Jon's agreement was a forgone conclusion. He turned Jon around and walked him on, one heavy arm draped across his shoulders. Jon stiffened and made as if to shrug it off, not wanting such an open display in the yard. Billy's hand gripped his shoulder tightly enough to hurt.

"Don't do that Jonny, You do what I want now, and it's a warning to everyone."

Jon walked beside him in silence, looking at the ground. Apart from the fact that he was sure that everyone in the yard was looking at him and probably sniggering, it was rather comforting to feel Billy's arm protectively across his shoulders. He'd had little enough physical contact since the night of his arrest, and what he had received had been anything but affectionate.

At the end of the exercise period, Billy left him with a small slap on his behind, as if I was a little kid being sent to bed, Jonathan thought.

"Leave it to me, kid. If anyone says anything to you, say you'll tell me. They'll get the message."

Three days later Jon was moved into Billy's cell.

His life had started to improve, but as far as his feelings about Jimmy were concerned, things were no better. In fact they were steadily getting worse. Every day that passed made him more sure that if he ever got out, Jimmy wouldn't be there waiting for him. It was unreasonable to expect a sixteen year old to remain constant, or even in love, for that length of time and there had been occasions before his arrest when it had crossed his mind that the love Jimmy undoubtedly felt for him, powerful though it was, might not survive indefinitely. In the present circumstances, given the boy's passionate nature, virility and powerful sex drive, it seemed even more likely that he would meet someone else eventually, and probably sooner rather than later. No-one could live in a vacuum for twelve years, especially a sex driven teenager. Jonathan faced and resigned himself to the fact.

His own case was different. Jimmy had not been his first love and nor had he been a passionate teenager when they met. And although he had come to the relationship sexually innocent, he had realised as their relationship grew that Jimmy would the one and only love of his life. Maybe this love would survive the long years of separation because there was nothing to take it's place. But when he was finally released if Jimmy's love for him had ended, the intervening years didn't seem worth living.

There was the question too of the incident in the showers. Knowing he was in love with Jimmy and knowing that he was being raped, hadn't stopped him from having an orgasm, and he wasn't sure if he could live with himself if it happened every time. What he was going to do with Billy was purely self protection, there was no love involved and nor would there ever be, but he could see how he might come to enjoy it, maybe even solicit it, given time. And where did that leave his love for Jimmy? Brought up from earliest childhood to believe that the only true and good sex was that within a loving married relationship, it had come as a shock to discover that he could feel simple lust, even when he was in love with someone.

He knew too that when he came out of prison, he would be a marked man for the rest of his life as far as the police were concerned. Snatches of overheard conversation had made him realise the difficulties facing any prisoner on his release, and in his case, it would be a hundred times worse. The police would be looking for any excuse to put him back inside, the public knew his name, and the press would undoubtedly broadcast the fact of his discharge and where he lived. He didn't feel that he could face that as well.

His first night in the cell with Billy was as bad in it's way as he had feared. Not that Billy was rough or unkind, in fact having achieved what he wanted he was in his way, quite gentle. But he was big, and Jon found him hard to accommodate in spite of his casual consideration. He was a passionate man who wanted, and took Jon more than once that night, each time leaving him more sore. That was bad enough, but it was his own reactions that really upset him. As soon as he had got reasonably used to Billy inside him, Jon found himself getting as ferocious an erection as he had ever had with Jimmy, and under Billy's somewhat rough and ready manipulation, came almost as often as his partner did.

Lying in his own bunk afterwards when Billy had finally had enough, he found himself crying quietly for what he had lost. He missed Jimmy terribly, missed having his arms around him and felt appallingly lonely. He turned over onto his stomach, which was the most comfortable position for him anyway after what Billy had done, stifled his sobs in the hard pillow and eventually cried himself to sleep.

In the morning before the prison came awake, Billy wanted him again, but after one look at his rear, thankfully left him alone. Jon was so grateful for this forbearance that he offered to masturbate him and brought Billy to two climaxes in rapid succession. He hoped that when Billy inevitably wanted him that night, he would have recovered from the pounding and would be able to cope with him.

Billy took him to the washrooms and by his proprietorial air, made it clear to all and sundry whose property he was, and that he was off limits to everyone else. It was while Billy was shaving, with a blunt razor, that the final elements of Jon's plan fell into shape. He had been trying to work out a way of acquiring a blade of his own, when he saw Billy discreetly slip one into the pocket of his shirt. He had heard that some prisoners did this, using the blades to slice pipe tobacco into small enough pieces to be used in hand-rolled cigarettes. When they got back to the cell, without seeming to notice he took careful note of where Billy hid it in a fine crack in the wall. He had no idea how Billy would react if he felt he was being spied on, and he didn't he wanted to take any chances.

Over the next few weeks he did his best to build up a relationship with Billy. They had little in common but Jon had always been a good listener, it was one of the things that had made him such a fine teacher, and he encouraged Billy to talk about himself and in return, occasionally saw signs of affection in him. Although he became more tender and considerate in his lovemaking, Billy had been wrong when he had told Jon that he would soon get used to him.

Jon was careful never to refuse him if he could help it, but there were times when he simply couldn't manage another session. It was too painful. On those occasions he offered Billy other services and became adept, with practice, in all the acts that Jimmy had introduced him to. Billy, though he loved penetrating Jon above everything else, was reasonably satisfied and there were even times when he spent hours stripping and admiring Jon's body.

"You've got a lovely bum," he told Jon once, touching and caressing it, "Everyone in the place wants to get into it like me!" And he suited the action to the words.

He also enjoyed watching Jon come, and would never let Jon do it himself but insisted on masturbating him because he said he liked holding Jon's cock. Several times he took it into his mouth but always stopped before the climax so that he could finish Jon off by hand and watch him ejaculate. He reminded Jon irresistibly of Jimmy at those times, for Jimmy too, had been turned on by watching him come.

Two days before Billy was due to be released, Jon waited until he had spent himself several times and then wriggled round on the narrow bunk to face him. Billy had got into the habit of holding him after sex, claiming that if he wanted another go Jon would be there, convenient, ready and waiting.

"Billy," Jon said quietly, "Would you do something for me when you go out?"

"What. Take you with me? I wish I could kid, I'm going to miss you," he replied sleepily.

Jon shook his head, "No, not that. Even you couldn't get me out of here. No, all I want is for you to take a letter and post it for me."

"Who to, that boy of yours?" He sat up suddenly and said seriously. "Listen to me kid, forget him. He's not going to be around when you get out, and you're not going to make it here if you keep thinking about him all the time." He felt Jon's movement of denial and pulled him close. "I know what I'm talking about kid. I don't have brains like you, but I know about living in this place. I've done it longer than you. For now, this is your life, in this cell, in this place, with these people. You've got to forget everything else. Outside isn't there anymore. You're here and here you stay, and they'll keep you even longer if you give them half a chance. You say you love him and he loves you, but it's not going to last for twelve years, even for eight if they give you parole, which they won't. It won't last, it can't when people are separated for so long. For fuck's sake Jonny, he's not even going to be able to visit you for five years! Not even a proper marriage would survive that. He's a randy kid and he's going to be meeting other randy kids, other randy men. Even if you don't forget him, he sure as fuck is going to forget you."

He stopped talking, and surprisingly gently, wiped the tears off Jon's cheeks with his hand. "You're a good kid, Jonny. I've seen how you let me screw you even when it hurt and I shouldn't have done it but you're so fucking pretty, I couldn't stop. You've got a sort of power over me and it'd nearly be worth staying in just to be with you, 'cos I don't want to leave you. But I've got to go kid, and you've got stay. So face it and forget. Forget him right now, because it's finished between you. Think about Andy instead. He wants you as much as I do and he'll look after you when I'm gone. Just say the word and I'll sort it, though I'm not letting him have you 'til I'm outside those gates," he added, with a sort of rough comfort.

"Andy's okay," Jon sniffed, " He's, well he's okay. You really want me to go with him?"

"If I can't have you, I'd rather he did. He's a mate of mine and I like to think of him screwing your bum. And like I said, if someone don't look after you, you're going to be in dead trouble, or maybe just dead. There're some right villains in here."

"All right, he can have me. But on two conditions," Jonathan said after a minute.

"Kid, with me you don't make no conditions. You take it or leave it."

"I'll say yes," Jon said slowly, "But only if you take my letter and post it."

"Jesus Christ, Jonathan. Haven't you listened to me? Do I have to beat your head in to get through to you?"

"Billy," Jon slipped with difficulty out of his grasp and started to get off the bunk, "If you don't agree to post it for me, that's it."

Billy sighed theatrically, "What's the other thing?"

"That I only go to Andy the day after you leave. I want at least one night on my own. To recover from you."

Billy leant back on the hard pillow and looked at him. Slowly he began to smile, feeling complimented, "I've let you get out of hand," he said. "What makes you think I can't handle a puny little rat like you with one hand tied behind my back?"

"You could handle me with both hands behind your back. But as far as I'm concerned that's what you have to do. If not, you'll have to rape me Billy, because I won't come to you willingly if you don't agree."

"Come on Jonny, you know I wouldn't do that."

Jon looked at him. "Oh no? It seems to me you did something very like it once before."

"You know that was different. I didn't know you then. Come back here." He pushed back the thin blanket to show his erecting penis.

"You still don't know me if you think I'm bluffing," Jon told him went to his own bunk and climbed in.

The sight of his naked body had it's usual effect. Billy's cock powered out from his body at a rate of knots. He got up and stalked over to Jon, effortlessly plucked him out of his bunk and dropped him onto his own bunk. Jon went limp and turned his head away. Billy forced his legs apart and knelt between them then gripped Jon's face and kissed him squarely on the lips.

"Are you satisfied now?" he growled. "That's the first time I've ever done that to a man."

Jon closed his eyes but made no other response. Angry now, Billy lifted Jon's legs onto his shoulders and stabbed at the tender hole with his cock. As soon as he was on target, he pushed so hard that Jon slid up the bunk until his head hit the wall. Billy got all the way in and started to thrust. He looked at Jon's face. Tears were beginning to squeeze through his closed eyelids.

"Oh for Christ's sake," he said viciously, and as suddenly as he had entered him, pulled out. "I'll take your fucking letter you little prick! Now fuck off to your own bunk."

He lay down between Jon and the wall and stretched out with his back to Jon. Jon lay still for a minute then put a hand on his shoulder and tried to pull him round to face him. He might as well have tried to move a London bus. He waited for a moment then clambered over Billy and forced himself between him and the cold wall.

"Thanks Billy. Kiss me again, get on top of me and fuck me silly," he said knowing it would turn Billy on.

Billy smiled at him and shook his head. "Little bastard."

And taking him at his word, kissed him, lifted up his legs, and fucked him silly.

Jon spent the next day writing two letters, one to Jimmy and the second to Brian, Tim and Michael Swain. Reluctantly Billy got him two envelopes and a stamp.

“They cost me an arm and a leg,” he informed Jon as he handed them over, “It's lucky I'm not staying in here, you'd make me bankrupt.”

With limited supplies of paper, the letter to Jimmy had to stand as it was, written just as the thoughts had come into his head. He didn't re-read it, knowing that he would want to write the whole thing again if he did, but sealed it and wrote Jimmy's name on the envelope. The letter to Brian was easier and when it was finished he put it, along with the letter to Jimmy, in the second envelope, stamped and addressed it

That night, he was as sexy as he was able to be with Billy, and more relaxed than he had been since his arrest. It was with genuine regret that Billy kissed him goodbye the following day and even turned to wave to him as he left the yard. Andy came over and spoke to him and confirmed that he would move into the cell the following day as Billy had arranged.

It was a strange afternoon. Jon felt relaxed and in control of his destiny again, but totally detached from life. He lay on his bunk thinking of Jimmy, going over the times they had spent together and remembering what they had said to each other. It was as if the weeks since his arrest had been wiped out of existence. What had happened in the showers, the episodes with Billy afterwards, the crude life he had lived since his arrival at the prison, were erased from his mind as if they were something that had happened to someone else, and he had read about them in a book. Thinking about Jimmy and their first time in the gymnasium showers he masturbated slowly and gently. It felt almost as if Jimmy himself was with him, loving him, caressing him, wanking him the way he used to. He spoke to no-one at the evening meal, except to Andy who made a point of walking him back to the cell almost as if he was escorting a girlfriend home. Jon smiled at him but was glad when he left, and he could lie down on his bunk to wait for lights out.

When the building was quiet and he knew he wouldn't be disturbed until the morning, he got up and pulled out the razor blade he had seen Billy hide in the crack in the wall. He lay down again, afraid of the pain, but not afraid of oblivion, fixed Jimmy's face in his mind, and with one sure, firm stroke, cut his throat.

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