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The Hand That Feeds


In a world that now is over-run by gangs and demons due to the crash of society, Santana struggles with the life of a sex slave.

Fantasy / Romance
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Part I
“Let's go, we're running late!” Sebastian ordered, swinging the whip in his hand impatiently.
He carefully counted the amount of women that exited the van and looked over the six slaves that instinctual lined up before him, waiting for further command. Sebastian paused at the end of the line, sharply turning around on the backs of his boots, causing the gravel below him to crunch. He pointed a finger in the slave's face with a glare.
A pair of dark brown eyes stared back at him with anger and he smirked. He grabbed her face and directed her gaze to the right. Sebastian can feel the contraction of the slave's muscle as she cringed.

“You know better than to make eye-contact.” Sebastian hissed. “I'm warning you Santana; if you don't behave I'll whip you so hard you won't be able to sit down for a month.”
Santana jerked her head free and stared to the ground, peeking from the corner of her eye to look back at Sebastian with the same devilish grin in place. He made his way to the front of the line, examining each girl one last time.
He normally had his slaves dressed when they were sent to attend parties, but having them naked seemed suitable for this ball. As it was full of demons who would want nothing else, but to sleep with these women and clothes would be useless if they were going to tear them apart.
“I will only say this once!” Sebastian announced. “No one here will turn down any of the guest and will do everything that is told of them and do not speak to anyone unless spoken to.”
He turned around, tucking his hands behind his back with one hand grabbing his wrist and the whip lightly tapping the back of his thigh. A group of four men placed collars around the slaves' neck and attached a chain at the end.
Once securely bound, Sebastian made his way up the stairs, leading to the main entrance of the mansion, and stepped into the foyer. The lively Victorian mansion was packed with hundreds of demons in richly colorful suits and gowns followed by the smell of cigars and cigarettes. Santana felt her ears clog from the booming bass of the music that blared through the speakers mounted in the corners of the ceiling.
She scanned the crowd to see humans among the mix, some were as naked as she was, others were clothed, but all were chained around the neck with a leash. Many had much more decorative leashes than Santana's, which had been a plain silver, heavy, worn down chain.
The majority of humans were clearly pets as demons of high status bought them for shower. Some had been purchased for entertainment and Santana has seen a few who sung beautifully. Others were bought for sex, but Santana could accept that if she was given the option to have extravagant clothing without the gems and obnoxiously brightly colored feathers attached. At least the heels were sensible. Those humans covered in designer clothing were mostly smothered in wealth, but that didn't make them any happier.
Santana had never felt so out of place with her own race. She was naked with scars around her body on full display and was too thin for her liking with little muscle because Sebastian refused to feed his slaves daily, and what is given were merely scraps. She was a lot more appealing to the other girls.
Santana's frail body didn't turn away potential clients, as they only cared about being able to get off. Santana did the job, too good. The humans at this party were plump, had a healthier glow, but lacked muscle as the food they were given had done nothing, but fatten them up. It reminded Santana a lot like the slaves selected for food. It gave her the chills to picture the factories that held the humans that were raised and overfed to be distributed to demons that had a craving of human flesh.
Drawing near the grand stairs in the center of the foyer, Santana mistakenly made eye-contact with a demon and quickly turned away as he growled. She fixed her gaze to the floor, keeping her head forward to stop herself from being taken away by her curiosity. She's never been in a mansion this spacious. It resembled a castle more than a house.
Nor has she had the chance to be at a party as decorative or as large as this one. The guests here were rich and most likely public figures. Santana was sure the one who threw it had been a politician as there was no other reason why this many guest would attend so proudly and casually with their pets.
Santana felt her face scrunch into a scowl. She hated the hierarchy system. The demons were mostly powerful people running this ruined country and all humans were kept to a lower status, with those being marketed as food the worst. Santana should be grateful she was one class higher, that of a sex slave, but she hated it.
The way demons looked at her was so degrading, Santana wanted to throw up. A sharp tug from the front had her stumbling over and brought her out of her thoughts. She took a hold of the railing, carefully making her way up the steps with the other five girls in front of her.
At the top, she felt the hungry eyes of demons, whistling and throwing degrading comments at the girls as they passed by. Santana peeked to the front to see that Sebastian lead them to a room down the hall and to the back.
A guard blocked the door, looking Sebastian over with a huff of discontent. Sebastian's tall stance didn't wavier. He had been around demons for too long to remember he was a human himself. It had been the reason why some demons disliked him. He had been willing to turn against his own people out of greed, but if the slave trade brought this much money, anyone would be willing to get into it. It was better than living on the streets with nothing and starving to death. Santana knew that too well as a child.
“I'm Sebastian Smyth. I've brought gifts for Mr. Fabray's daughter.” Sebastian informed.
Santana scoffed. That explained the amount of guest. The party had been thrown for Lima's most notorious drug dealer's daughter, who ruined this entire planet for his own personal gain. A fresh wave of hatred came through Santana. Be it his daughter or not, Santana wanted nothing to do with them both. The guard smirked, looking Santana over and smiled.
“Easy now,” Sebastian warned. “You can have your pick once Ms. Fabray has made hers.”
The guard grunted and knocked on the door behind him. The door swung open to reveal a blonde haired woman with a black and green gem encrusted masquerade mask on her face. Coupled with her black and sleek gown and heels was a golden chain decorated with three gems in the center.
Santana couldn't turn away as she took in this woman's elegant appearance. She carried herself as if she were an important person and Santana would have easily mistaken her for human had it not been her vibe and the hazel and red eye that shone behind the mask, a signifying mark that the client was a half-breed.
Santana could deal with that at least. Only half-breeds carried incomplete features of a demon. She was the most human half-breed Santana had seen in the last five years. This would also be the first half-breed Santana would see with so much notoriety and power. It was not illegal to father a half-breed, so long as one parent was a demon, should the parent be a half-breed that would result in immediate abortion.
Half-breeds were acceptable, but they weren't treated fairly to their counter parts as they were seen as imperfect offspring. But it was most likely tolerated because most of the world's population was covered with half-breeds and demons weren't going to willingly give up their domination of this planet. So Half-breeds were allowed rights higher than humans with a lot more protection too. A majority of half-breeds existed as results of rapes, leaving the human mothers to live with them in shame.
Santana can't recall ever seeing the mother around. Not that such a thing mattered as the very idea of having to service a Fabray, and be it Russel Fabray's daughter Quinn no less, had to be the most distasteful task to carry out.
“I thought I've made it clear that I don't want any interruptions?” Quinn snipped.
“I'm sorry Ms. Fabray.” The guard apologized. “The human insisted he give you your gift personally.”
Sparkling hazel and red eyes instantly landed on Santana. She fought against a chill that tickled down her back.
“Hello Ms. Fabray.” Sebastian greeted. “Happy Birthday.”
“Come inside.” She instructed, retrieving back into her room.
Sebastian stepped through the door and gave an unnecessary pull of the chain, but Santana had been prepared to keep her balance from the previous tug. Shuffling was heard from the table as Quinn's pet rummaged about to fix her clothes and try to tame her wild brown locks of hair.
Santana chuckled seeing the small woman pat at her mouth with a napkin and turned away from the guest as a blush formed on her face. That would explain Quinn's bad mood. Sebastian had interrupted something intimate.
Quinn sat back in her chair, unaffected from the interruption, but it may have been because she was the one about to get off. She looked less of a mess too. Gently, her hand reached out to stroke her pet's brown locks and she kissed her forehead, which increased the blush.
Santana had to admit she was nicely dressed at least. She was probably the most sharply dressed and possibly overdressed in comparison to what the other demons could afford for their pets. It was also less of an eyesore to see that Quinn's pet had not been as thick as the others too. Santana could pick out brand named heels from where she stood.
“What is this?” Quinn asked, motioning to the girls.
“Your gift, Ma'am,” Sebastian proudly answered. “These are my best girls from the brothel I run. Hand-picked, free of charge, and guaranteed to please you of any desire.”
Quinn tilted her head and scoffed. “Is this a joke?” She responded.
“Not at all Ms. Fabray,” Sebastian said.
Quinn weeded through her choices and stopped at Santana upon seeing she had been the only one who refused to look away as they made eye-contact. It was an act of defiance that would offend any demon, but Quinn's eyes shinned with curiosity.
“Her.” Quinn pointed.
Santana gulped. Without any questions, Sebastian removed the leash and gave Santana a warning stare.
“Excellent choice Ms. Fabray,” Sebastian approved. “Santana is quite the pleasure.”
Santana felt a wash of bile stir in the back of her throat at the chuckles from the guards. Quinn remained silent, her eyes still pinned on to Santana, intrigued.
“Leave.” Quinn ordered.
Sebastian made no hesitation to pull the line of girls along, making a hasty exit back to the party. Santana felt bad at the thought of the girls being left to the guest and guards as they were passed around like scraps. At least here Santana had only one person to please, but there had been a limit to the amount of orgasm she could have before it started to hurt.
The door closed and Santana remained in front of the table with a frown. Quinn rested a hand under her chin, staring at Santana with interest for a moment.
“Move over Rachel.” Quinn curtly spoke.
Rachel sat to the end of the couch and Quinn took a sip of her wine that had been long forgotten since the visit. Santana couldn't understand why demons drank. Alcohol had no effect on them like it did with humans, as they healed much too fast to get drunk or liver cancer, but it might have been done out of jest. Liquor and wine had been expensive, so humans made cheap imitations of it to get a buzz.
Santana can't say the effects were the same on a half-breed though. They were unpredictable, much how no one can know what aspect of the demon they kept at birth. Some half-breeds have gone without any powers of a demon at all.
“You were very brave looking at me like that.” Quinn commented.
Santana kept her head down, fighting against the urge to stare at Quinn again in complete awe. As much as she hated demons she found herself looking Quinn over intrigued. It had been a frustrating experience as Santana had more of a reason to hate demons than take an interest in one.
“Would you have told me your name if your master hadn't told me?” Quinn asked, placing the wine cup down. “You're going to ignore me? At my own party?”
“What do you want from me?” Santana snarled.
Quinn laughed. Santana didn't expect her to enjoy her blunt and disrespectful manner. Sebastian would have given her ten lashes for such a behavior.
“I'm not going to do anything to you if that's what you mean.” Quinn replied. “It would be disrespectful to send a gift back after he went out of his way to try and please me for the celebration.”
“He's human. It's expected you treat him that way.” Santana reminded.
Quinn patted the cushion next to her.
“Come sit with me.” Quinn requested.
Santana folded her arms over her chest with a scowl. Quinn's face lacked any expression and the only form of facial movement Santana could see was her mouth as it shifted into a smile. It had aggravated Santana for some reason.
She's heard rumors about Russel's daughter. About how beautiful she was and Santana had never gotten the chance to see her because whores weren't allowed TV. The only life Sebastian wanted them to be concerned about was pleasing clients and obeying his rules. Santana had only been left to imagine Quinn's appearance and to be here in person with her only to have it concealed with a mask was a disappointment.
“I know who you are.” Santana bluntly stated.
Quinn put up another smile.
“Do you?” She playfully asked.
“You don't need to hide your face.” Santana said. “Everyone here knows who you are.”
Quinn's hand traced the thread of her mask.
“Would it make you feel better that I take it off?” She casually asked. “The theme is a masquerade party. I thought it would be fun. Don't you like it? Please, take a seat.”
Quinn watched Santana battle with herself to either listen to the command, or remain standing out of defiance to a woman she couldn't stand. Quinn took two more sips of her wine before Santana agreed to take a seat. She immediately regretted the choice as her nose was attacked from the sweet and heavenly scent that radiated off of Quinn.
“Just get whatever you want to do to me over with, so I can leave.” Santana grunted.
Quinn twisted around to face Santana with a soft smile in place. Santana was starting to hate that smile, but for an entirely different reason now. With the change of distance, Santana could see Quinn's beautiful features up close. The mask covered most of it which was a disappointment, but Santana found her eyes to be breathtaking beautiful and her pink plump lips irresistible.
The longer she stared the more Santana's eyes rested on Quinn's mouth. She was thinking about how it must feel to kiss them and wondered if they tasted as sweet as she smelled. In a trance, Santana's tongue ran across her lips and she gulped.
“I don't want to do anything to you Santana.” Quinn admitted, breaking Santana of her trance. “I don't agree with the way humans are treated.”
“You don't have to impress me. I have to sleep with you if I want to be able to sit down for a week.” Santana informed.
Quinn frowned. “Do they beat you?”
Quinn pressed a hand to Santana's cheek. The warm touch brought a quake of shivers down Santana's right arm. Quinn examined Santana's features.
“That human isn't a complete idiot.” Quinn commented. “He's scarred every part of your body, but knew better to avoid your face. Except, there's one little scar, right, here.” Quinn whispered, brushing a finger along the curve of Santana's eyebrow.
Santana froze, remembering the day she got it. Of all the marks she has, she hated that the most. It had been the only time Sebastian had lost his temper and mindlessly lashed out. A ring from his finger had nicked her and gave him a heart attack at how much blood was sprouting out. It even gave her a fright.
“Are you justifying the way Sebastian treats us?” Santana hissed.
“Of course not,” Quinn assured. “It would just be heartbreaking to see such a beautiful face covered in scars.”
Santana scooted back. Quinn showed little care for the sudden action. The way she calmly spoke to Santana had been another thing that was starting to piss her off. She found herself hating everything about Quinn, down to the way she smelled like flowers.
Santana had never been so angry by someone who had done nothing but try to start friendly conversation with her. Quinn treated her with respect and it wouldn't make any sense to be upset about that, but Santana couldn't stop herself from having untimely and unexplained emotions such as irritation to Quinn's kindness.
“Would you like to kiss me Santana?” Quinn casually asked.
A chill traveled down Santana's spine. She watched Quinn close the distance between them. The flowery smell buzzing around her head made it difficult to concentrate. She turned away, making Quinn's lips land on the curve of her jaw.
“What's wrong?” Quinn cooed. “Is it wrong to want something for a change? I'm only going to do what you allow.”
Santana's hands closed into a fist. She shook her head. Quinn had to be messing with her. She was trying to get inside her head for her own sick enjoyment. Rich demons had everything they wanted, so things got boring. She's heard of how they mess with other humans to pass the time. That was the only reason as to why Quinn would try to start decent conversations with her and say bullshit things about needing consent to touch her.
“Can I touch you?” Quinn requested. “Let me take the edge off a little. You're driving me crazy with how wet you are.”
Santana flinched as a blush broke out in her cheeks. She didn't expect to get this wet so easily, and all Quinn had done was speak to her and accidentally kiss her jaw line. It was embarrassing. Santana closed her legs to try and mask the scent.
“You're beautiful.” Quinn complimented. “Please, let me kiss you?”
Santana found herself in another trance as she made eye-contact with Quinn again and leaned over; shifting her eyes to Quinn's shinny lips. She pressed her lips to Santana's in a tender kiss and rested her hand on to Santana's bare thigh.
Santana gasped on contact, overwhelmed as the smell completely covered her and all Santana can register was the sticky and sugary taste of Quinn's lip gloss. A rush of wetness painted Santana's inner thighs and she moaned as Quinn's finger brushed along her inner thigh.
The cry had given Quinn entry to Santana's mouth and she quickly slipped her tongue inside, rubbing it against Santana's. The kiss picked up in intensity, but Quinn continued to move her hand to swipe her finger from Santana's slick folds to her clit. Santana nearly came from the touch alone.
Quinn ended the kiss, removing her finger and leaving Santana breathless. Santana could hear her heart pounding in her ears as her chest heaved to get back into a steady breathing rhythm.
“That's enough for today.” Quinn declared.
Santana watched, mouth agape as Quinn inhaled the clear fluid on her two fingers before licking the tip. She sucked her middle finger first, slowly pulling it out when there was no more trace of Santana on it and sucked her pointer finger after.
“You taste just as good as you smell.” She grinned. “Hmm, I can't leave you smelling like this. You're too irresistible and I don't want to share you.”
Quinn took a napkin and poured the water in a second cup on the table all over it.
“Rachel.” Quinn called.
Instantly, she sprang to her feet and Quinn handed her the soaked napkin.
“Clean her up please?” Quinn instructed.
Rachel silently dropped to her knees and moved Santana's legs apart. Quinn moved them so that her feet were flat against the couch and Rachel carefully ran the napkin along Santana's outer lips. Santana felt another blush hit her.
She had never felt this exposed, nor did Santana think something as simple as cleaning would have her aroused in the first place. Rachel took her time cleaning up the sticky mess against Santana's thighs and stopped when the last of the clear fluid was gone. Rachel placed the napkin on the table. Santana let out a heavy sigh and looked back at Quinn who had been watching Santana closely with a wide grin.
“Thank you Rachel.” Quinn smiled. “You're lucky you've trimmed down there. It made it a lot easier to clean. You may leave Santana. I'll be seeing you again.”
Santana headed toward the door in a haze, with Rachel behind her to open it. She spotted Sebastian a few feet down the hall with a cup of champagne in his hand. He glared, seeing Santana had left a lot quicker than he expected.
“What did you do?” He growled, taking a hold of Santana's wrist.
“She was quite the treat, thank you for the gift.” Quinn called from her seat.
Rachel shut the door and Santana was quickly chained down. Sebastian ordered the guards to recollect the rest of the girls. They didn't make their way to the van twenty minutes later. Santana didn't see the pair of eyes watching her from the balcony above. A sparking hazel and red eye with the same intriguing smile as Quinn got the last glimpse of Santana before she went into the van.

Sebastian put all six slaves back into the holding cell of their room when he returned. Santana was sure she had done something right, considering Sebastian didn't beat her, but he might have been in a good mood about pleasing Quinn. That alone could mean more potential income.
To Santana, it would mean more clients and while that alone had always pissed her off, she couldn't find herself holding such an overload of hatred for Quinn if she were a part of the clientele. As pleasing of a thought that was, Santana was more fixated on the mask that Quinn had refused to remove and it frustrated Santana.
Making her way to the other end of the room, Santana took a seat to the thin cot that was propped against the wall. The blonde lyiing on it rolled over and sat up with her blanket now at her hips at the sight of Santana.
“Well, how was it?” She asked.
“It isn't any of your business Kitty.” Santana snapped.
Kitty glared. Santana can't say the two of them were friends, but they looked after each other and Santana admitted she was better to be around than the other women in this cell. The majority of them had lost their minds, and if they weren't crazy, they were much too young while Santana had been one of the few twenty-eight year old adults in this brothel.
Kitty had come here a month ago. What got Santana to start some form of a friendship with her was how feisty she was, much like Santana. She didn't take shit from Sebastian or the clients and seeing such a strong fiery spark as Kitty was hard to come by. As many would easily give in the first two weeks and come a month a girl was a former shell of herself.
Santana had found a way to remain sane with her mind still intact and it would be a shame for Kitty to follow the same route as the rest of the girls. So after being hostile to one another Santana had decided to bite her tongue and put an end to their distrust of each other. She was the only one to help tend to Kitty's wounds when she had gotten a lashing for speaking back to Sebastian the first day she came here.
It was stupid, but it was gutsy and Santana admired it. She helped clean Kitty's wounds as they were so bad they all became scars. That had sealed the deal and they were friends, who occasionally fought with each other and argued, but it was better than being completely alone.
“Where did you find this cot?” Santana asked, moving over to sit on it only to find it was much too thin and had no difference than sitting on the ground bare.
“I have my ways.” Kitty grinned, pulling back her sheet to reveal a small pile of snacks.
Santana's eyes lit up.
“Ho Ho's!” She cried.
Kitty laughed and handed them over before covering the rest of her stash again with her blanket. Santana can't remember the last time she's had any sweet or good tasting food for that matter. Sebastian fed the women what was equivalent to slop.
A liquidfied meal that Santana knew had no nutritional value, but kept their stomachs full, if anyone can stomach it without puking. The texture it had was sticky, thick, and gooey with an awful after taste that Santana can only explain to being that of mud. It also smelled a lot like rotting meat.
Tearing the package, Santana ate half the roll in one bite. It had taken no more than thirty seconds and both rolls were gone. A satisfied smile spread across Santana's face as she sat back savoring the sugary treat. Kitty handed her a cup of water to wash down the remains of the chocolate.
“You got that from that idiot boy didn't you?” Santana asked.
Kitty chuckled. “You mean Ryder?”
Santana handed back the cup and Kitty took the wrapper of the remaining snack.
“And he isn't stupid.” Kitty answered.
Santana scoffed. “The boy can't read!”
Kitty took a sip from her own cup and stashed it under the sheets with her snacks.
“Because of his dyslexia and he isn't a boy. He's twenty.” Kitty defended. “He wants me to live with him.”
Santana would have choked on her ho-ho had she not scarfed it down so quickly. Kitty shrugged and decided to open a pack of cookies herself. Ryder wasn't a bad guy. He was human and seemed to live decently as he'd come visit the brothel once a week to spend time with Kitty.
Of course, being the manipulate person Kitty is, she easily got him to bend to her every whim. Whatever Kitty wanted he gave and what she liked he went out of his way to retrieve. He was innocent and in love. Santana didn't like him, mainly because she didn't trust him.
Any brothel cost at least two weeks worth of a paycheck and being that this brothel has been one of the oldest in the business and the most popular the cost was twice the range. Santana had no idea where Ryder was getting this money and the only way for him to be able to afford the visit and the gifts to Kitty was from wealth.
A human coming from a rich household was rare and they weren’t trusted as they most likely dabbed in the black market. Santana hasn't figured out what Ryder was running, but she had no strong interest to find out. But Kitty was the only real friend she had who held decent conversations, even if most of their conversations were in arguments that neither wanted to lose so it ended with them both angry and stubborn.
“Kitty,” Santana started. “You're probably the smartest seventeen year-old here, don't dumb yourself down over a child who I'm sure we can't even trust!”
Kitty played around with her cookie, mulling over Santana's piece of advice. She looked through her lashes with a pout. Santana shrugged. She was at least honest. Kitty liked that.
“It's gotta be better than being here.” Kitty mumbled. “Anything has to be better than a brothel.”
“I know that feeling all too well.” Santana sighed.
They sat in silence for a moment as Kitty digested Santana's words and the situation she had been in for what felt like years. She was growing restless. The time spent behind these walls and with sleazy customers who lacked the ability of respect to others was making Kitty on edge.
Santana had envied feeling those emotions at one point. Spending ten years here had made her so numb that she would often question the reality of her situation. Kitty finally took a bite of her cookie.
“Well,” She garbled with a mouth full of chocolate chip cookie. “How was it?”
“What?” Santana asked.
Kitty glared, taking a loud chop out of her cookie. She hated repeating herself and sometimes Santana did it because she knew it pissed her off.
“You met Quinn Fabray. Spill,” Kitty answered.
Santana chuckled. She couldn't understand why Kitty had such an unusual interest in Quinn. It was as if she idolized her, but Kitty had never shared why. While Santana has met people who have hated Quinn and those who feared her, very few liked her.
“I didn't meet her. I just attended her birthday.” Santana insisted.
“Don't bullshit a bullshitter.” Kitty snipped. “Besides, I know you met her.”
“Why are you so sure?” Santana asked.
“Because for once you didn't come back like a raging bitch and you don't smell like shame and sex.” Kitty equipped.
Santana scowled. “You have a real smart mouth, you know that?”
Kitty grinned. “I have other talents with it if you want to find out.”
Santana grunted. “I do not need to know any of this shit!” She cried. “Okay, fine, I've met her.”
“Why do you look so disappointed?” Kitty questioned.
“I'm not disappointed.” Santana corrected. “I just...fine I was a little disappointed. The entire time we were together she wore this stupid mask.”
Kitty frowned. “Bummer. She has beautiful features.” She complimented.
Santana laughed. “Kitty, am I sensing a lesbian boner for Quinn you have there?” She teased.
Kitty smirked and shrugged. “She's hot. I'm not stupid. I'd hit that.”
Santana laughed. “You're something else Kitty.”
Kitty shrugged as she finished the last of her cookie. “How was it?
Santana rolled over on her side against the wall.
“I don't want to talk about it.” She grumbled.
“Fine!” Kitty snapped, lying back on her cot with the blanket over her head. “Sorry I even cared then.”
Santana gulped, wondering if she should apologize. She had no reason to be so defensive about her stay with Quinn. But something about her had brought Santana in a bad mood when their encounter was over. It was completely unsatisfying and the more Santana tried to understand why she should be so upset that a client didn't want to have sex with her the more her head hurt.
Santana couldn't keep her mind off of Quinn. That was until Kitty stopped talking to her. Santana found herself replying their interaction and trying to imagine Quinn's face behind the mask now that Kitty had spoke so highly of her.
Having enough of her conflicting thoughts, Santana got up and went to the other side of the room to brood in silence. Gingerly, her hand reached out to trace along the length of her lips where Quinn's had once touched hers.

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