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It’s totally OK to like pegging if you’re a straight man – 7 guys tells us why

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If 2017 was the year of eating ass, 2018 will be the year of pegging.

Chances are you’ve already heard of it – but if you haven’t, pegging is, in most cases, a sexual act where a straight man is penetrated by a woman wearing a strap-on dildo. And no, it doesn’t involve a peg leg.

The word ‘pegging’ elicits responses of shock and judgement in many, and it might not be for everyone, but as with all sex, it is simply about pleasure.

Pegging has been around since the dawn of time (anything we do, rest assured, the Romans did it first) but it wasn’t until the 1998 release of sexologist Carol Queen’s sex education video series Bend Over Boyfriend that the act was given more attention.

But despite its recent surge in pop culture, in part thanks to shows like Broad City and movies like Deadpool, the act still remains largely taboo.

Many people still mistakenly think that if a straight man enjoys being penetrated, it makes him gay (it doesn’t) or unmanly (utter bollocks).

Anal pleasure for straight men has always been a taboo, partly due to this misguided, patriarchal idea of emasculation, and partly due to an ‘ew’ factor.

But letting internalised homophobia and gender roles get in the way of mind-blowing orgasms seems a little bit silly, doesn’t it?

After all, the prostate – the walnut-size gland found under a man’s bladder and easily accessible via the anus – is essentially the male g-spot. A magic pleasure button, if you will.

Aside from the intense physical pleasure, one of the best aspects of pegging in a cis, hetero relationship is that it inverts the traditional framework of gender and sexual roles.

According to a 2012 study published in the journal Sex Roles, clinging to traditional gender roles could make us feel less comfortable between the sheets, and research by sexuality educator Dr. Charlie Glickman also shows that straight men who had tried pegging were more in tune with what their female partner needed from them during penetration.

So pegging could not only give men a more intense orgasm, but it could possibly teach them a thing or two on how to pleasure women; basically, a win win.

When you think about it, pegging is still standard heterosexual PIV sex because the bottom line (pun intended) is putting something inside a hole. It simply works the other way around.

Indulging in something that is taboo helps chip away the stigma, which helps people get over their insecurities about what turns them on.

Talking about all kinds of sex, urges and curiosities is the first step towards a fulfilling sex life, and no one should feel ashamed to discuss their sexual preferences.

And because sex should always be a judgement free zone, here, seven straight men share their experience with pegging (anonymously, because society is still a little prudish). To quote Ilana from Broad City: ‘Anal’s on the menu’.

R, 33

My interest for anal play and pegging didn’t develop until my 30s.

During my 20s, I was more interested in having different sexual partners and more ‘traditional’ sex.

However, as my relationships started to become more stable, I found that pegging added an extra dimension to my sex life.

I was also very curious about prostate stimulation that is mentioned constantly in many sex articles, so this became something I wanted to try.

C, 21

It’s no different to admitting you having a fetish.

Some people are into feet and others like to be spanked or choked and pegging isn’t any different.

It might be a bit awkward to talk about at first but if you can’t openly talk to your partner then they’re not meant for you.

A, 27

It was my ex girlfriend’s idea, she read about it and brought it up with me.

I was skeptical at first, but even now that we’re not together anymore, it’s something I do with my new partner.

We don’t do it very often but even when we just have regular sex, she’s a lot more assertive, which I think is really hot.

K, 33

I suffer from erectile dysfunction so the allure of pegging was that it took the focus off the penis.

The prostate is basically the male g-spot so it means men who struggle with staying hard can reach orgasm without any penis stimulation at all.

M, 26

Once I realised how good it felt to have your anus stimulated through rimjobs, it kind of snowballed.

My girlfriend and I both started using butt plugs on each other, then we tried vibrators, then dildos.

One day we bought a strap on and never looked back.

M, 24

What I love about it besides the physical sensation, which is awesome, is the power switch.

There’s a lot of trust involved in being pegged, you need to have faith that the woman won’t hurt or judge you and there’s a lot of intimacy in that, which can be very powerful.

There’s also something to be said about someone wanting to please you like that, it makes you feel desired.

T, 26

It just feels really good, there’s not much more to it. If your gal is willing to try I recommend going for it, easy as that.

Complete Article HERE!

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Why (Some) Women Love Strap-Ons

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Last week, I found myself at Cafe Gratitude in Los Angeles, eating a gluten-free scone and fuming about gender, as one does in 2016. On the receiving end of my rant was my friend “Lori,” a 23-year-old MFA student studying queer theory. I was saying something like, “Sure, it’s cool that we live in this post-everything world where gender is over and hetero-normativity is off-trend and all the rules of sexuality have been thrown out the window. Life is more free now. But we’re also being forced to ask ourselves some serious questions. Like, ‘Does shaving my armpits make me a bad feminist?’ And, more pressingly, ‘Is my strap-on a symbol of male supremacy?’ And if so, should I set it on fire as a performance art piece?”

Lori sipped her green juice and rolled her eyes. “I love wearing a strap-on,” she said, casually flipping her long curls behind her shoulders. “Even though my dildo is bright pink and it’s this laborious process to strap yourself in, something about it still feels real. It’s some Freudian bullshit, but it just feels so fun and powerful to have a penis.” This wasn’t the “feminist” answer I was expecting.

A few nights later, I met my friend “Claire,” a 31-year-old screenwriter, for drinks at the Sunset Tower. Claire is somewhat of a unicorn in that she’s a straight woman who gets off on wearing a dildo. “Think about it: Men are the ones with a prostate. Why isn’t every woman fucking her boyfriend with a strap-on?” Claire asked, as an elderly man played jazz piano in the background. “It’s crazy, you actually feel like you have a dick. I’ve been pegging this guy I met at a Dave Matthews concert.”

Claire admitted that this was not a bucket-list moment for her. “I knew what pegging was because of that Broad City episode where Abbi pegs her crush, but I was never like, ‘Oh, my God, I can’t wait until the moment when I finally get to peg someone.’ ” Her tone turned almost motherly.“I think every woman should experience fucking a man at some point in her life, even just as a therapeutic tool. It’s very empowering. I never thought this would be part of my life story, but here I am. I’m fucking a man.”

After meeting through friends at said concert last fall, Claire and her pegging partner, “Jim,” bonded on a party-bus ride back to West Hollywood, talking about sex.They ended up back at Jim’s apartment, where he produced a double-sided glass dildo—one end for the pegging, the other end shaped like a hook, to be inserted inside a vagina. “It’s essentially a strapless strap-on,” Claire explained. “It’s the chicest kind. I could never go back from this.”

She liked it far more than she expected to. “It’s such a shift in the power dynamic. I kept thinking, I’m literally penetrating someone right now. Plus, it’s a vaginal workout because you have to grip the dildo with your vagina while you use it. It’s basically exercise, which I love. I’m very health-conscious,” she said, gulping her second martini. For the next two months, the two met up for sex regularly. “He would get a colonic every time before I came over,” she said enthusiastically. “He was really on point about his whole anal grooming and cleansing journey.”

Beyond the thrill of the power shift, what Claire didn’t expect was how intimate the sex would be. “The person has to be very trusting of you. You have to listen to their physical cues and gauge if they’re having pleasure or if you’re hurting them. You have a lot of control, and that became very sexy to me. Before Jim, I’d always thought of myself as submissive, but through that experience I accessed a totally different side of myself.”

She made it sound so bizarrely appealing. I wondered if I should resurrect my strap-on from the junk box under my bed, where it’s been in exile since my breakup with my now ex-girlfriend four months ago. When I met my ex, one of the first things I did was run to a sex store and buy a large purple dildo and leather harness. It was my first same-sex relationship, and I was like, “This is what lesbians do, right?” As it turned out, we used the strap-on only like four times in our three-year relationship—partly because it quickly dawned on me that I didn’t need to imitate heterosexual sex in order to validate my queer sex. In the years that followed, I found it insulting when people would ask me, “But don’t you miss dick?” As if the penis is the holy grail of pleasure. Similarly, my androgynous girlfriend resented the fact that just because she wore boys’ clothes, people assumed she wanted a penis. (One day, I remember, she put on the strap-on, looked down, and said, “Wait, I’m gay and dicks are weird. Why is this thing on me?”)

But my worst fear is being one of those cyber-feminists who’s offended by everything, so in order to challenge my aversion to strap-ons, I organized a queer, roundtable lunch with strap-on loving Lori and my particularly opinionated friend Mel, a 37-year-old queer actress.

“My hand is my sexual object,” said Mel, displaying the hand in question, with its immaculately manicured fingernails. “A lot of women get off wearing a strap-on, either psychologically or because of the way it rubs against their clit, but I don’t. I feel erotic pleasure through my fingers. It’s sexual reiki: If I can make you come with my hand, then can I extend that power five inches in front of my hand? Ten inches? Can I sit across the room from you and make you come? When you’re at that level, a fucking phallus seems like kindergarten for me.” The conversation became heated very quickly.

“So is penis envy actually a thing?” I asked. “I just don’t understand why, if you’re queer, you need to bring a fake dick into the bedroom.”

“I know lesbians who, when they go on a Tinder date, will pack their penis in their bag,” said Mel. “Like, that’s their dick. They’re not trans, but they want to be able to fuck their girl without using their hands. When I was younger I wanted that,” she recalled. “I didn’t want a dick all the time, but I wanted to be able to fuck a girl and choke her with both hands, basically.”

“I don’t care to over-intellectualize or over-politicize it,” said Lori. “If you like being fucked by a strap-on, it’s not a reflection on your sexuality. I get where you’re coming from, but if it feels good, then what’s the problem? My girlfriend and I aren’t secretly wanting to have sex with a man.”

This made sense to me. If the point of sex is to create intimacy and to give and receive pleasure, then why restrict yourself from something that feels good just because of the patriarchy or whatever? After all, being a lesbian isn’t about hating dicks, and using a strap-on isn’t about wanting to be a man.

Through my own queer experience, in fact, I’ve learned that it often isn’t true that the more “masculine” or butch woman would be the one to wear a strap-on in the relationship. Mel put it well: “Our default is to think that, in a power dynamic, masculine is top and feminine is bottom. But a butch woman will often want to be subjugated sexually because she has to armor herself in the world so much. She has to be tough, just like a man does. It’s like the Wall Street guy who sees a dominatrix on the weekend. That’s why they say, ‘Butch in the streets, femme in the sheets.’ ”

Speaking of femme tops, I told them about Claire and her pegging saga, which incited a literal round of applause. “I wish more guys would get into pegging,” Mel said. “I think if men knew more about what it was like to get fucked, they would be better at fucking. The only reason men don’t get pegged more often is because of gay shame and bottom shame. It’s really hard for straight men to bottom because they think it’s emasculating, when in reality it can be super hot.”

Beyond all the politics, one can’t deny that strap-ons have a lot of advantages. You never have to worry about a dildo being soft or too small or diseased, and it won’t accidentally get you pregnant. As Mel put it: “When you’re having sex with a real penis, sex becomes all about what feels good for the penis, and then the penis has to throw up all over your tits. But a strap-on is just for the woman’s pleasure. The dildo doesn’t need to be satisfied.”

“That’s true,” Lori agreed. “Dildos are not demanding at all.”

“It’s just a hands-free device,” added Mel. “Like a selfie stick.”

Complete Article HERE!

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Why Aftercare Is The BDSM Practice That Everyone Should Be Doing

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By Sophie Saint Thomas

If you’re unfamiliar with the BDSM scene, you might think it’s all whips, handcuffs, and pleasurable pain, but there’s one important element that BDSM practitioners have built into their sex lives to make sure that everyone involved feels safe and cared for after play time is over: a practice known as aftercare. And whether you’re into BDSM or have more vanilla tastes, aftercare is something everyone should be doing.

In the BDSM world, aftercare refers to the time and attention given to partners after an intense sexual experience. While these encounters (or “scenes,” as they’re called) are pre-negotiated and involve consent and safe words (in case anyone’s uncomfortable in the moment), that doesn’t mean that people can forget about being considerate and communicative after it’s all over. According to Galen Fous, a kink-positive sex therapist and fetish sex educator, aftercare looks different for everyone, since sexual preferences are so vast. But, in its most basic form, aftercare means communicating and taking care of one another after sex to ensure that all parties are 100% comfortable with what went down. That can include everything from tending to any wounds the submissive partner got during the scene, to taking a moment to be still and relish the experience, Fous says.

Specifically, with regards to BDSM, the ‘sub-drop’ is what we are hoping to cushion [during aftercare],” says Amanda Luterman, a kink-friendly psychotherapist. A “sub-drop” refers to the sadness a submissive partner may feel once endorphins crash and adrenaline floods their body after a powerful scene (though dominant partners can also experience drops, Fous says).

Of course, you don’t have to be hog-tied and whipped to feel sad after sex. One 2015 study found that nearly 46% of the 230 women surveyed felt feelings of tearfulness and anxiety after sex — which is known as “postcoital dysphoria” — at least once in their lives (and around 5% had experienced these feelings a few times in the four weeks leading up to the study). Experts have speculated that this may stem from the hormonal changes people (particularly those with vaginas) experience after orgasm, but many also say that it can come from feeling neglected. The so-called “orgasm gap” suggests that straight women, in particular, may feel that their needs in bed are ignored. And Luterman says that people in general can also feel lousy post-sex if they’re not communicating about what they liked and didn’t like about the experience.

Clearly, taking the time to be affectionate and talk more after sex — a.k.a. aftercare — can make sex better for everyone, not just those who own multiple pairs of handcuffs. So what does that mean for you? It depends on the kind of sex you’re having, and who you’re having it with.

Taking the time to be affectionate and talk more after sex — a.k.a. aftercare — can make sex better for everyone, not just those who own multiple pairs of handcuffs.

Like we said, there are lots of guidelines for BDSM aftercare, specifically. If you’re having casual sex, aftercare can mean simply letting your guard down and discussing the experience, something that can be scary to do during a one-night stand. It’s definitely dependent on the situation, but Luterman says that you can just express that you had a good time and see if they’re interested in seeing you again (if those are thoughts you’re actually having). “People want to be reminded that they still are worthwhile, even after they’ve been sexually gratifying to the person,” Luterman says. If your experience didn’t go well, it’s important to voice that, too.

And those in long-term relationships are certainly not exempt from aftercare, Luterman says. It’s something couples should continue to do, especially after trying something new (such as anal sex), she says. Did the sex hurt? Do they want to do it again? What did they like and not like about it? You can’t know what your partner is thinking unless you ask them. Plus, it can be easy for long-term partners to feel taken for granted, so making sure to cuddle, stroke each other’s hair, and savor the moment after sex can make even the most routine sex feel special.

One thing we should all keep in mind? It can also be helpful to continue these conversations when everyone’s vertical (and clothed) and any post-orgasm high has faded.

At the end of the day, aftercare is just a fancy term for making sure everyone’s happy once the sex is over. And while communication needs to be happening before and during sex as well, having these discussions afterwards comes with an added bonus: You can learn from the experience so that the sex is even hotter the next time.

Complete Article HERE!

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Coming down from the high:

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What I learned about mental health from BDSM

By Jen Chan

Not too long ago, I took my first step into the world of kink. I was a baby gay coming to terms with my borderline personality disorder (BDP) diagnosis, looking for any and every label that could help alleviate the lack of self-identity that comprises my BPD.

I knew I was queer. I knew I identified as femme. But I didn’t know if I was a dominant (top), a submissive (bottom), or a pillow princess; I didn’t even know if I was kinky.

So I tried to find out.

I began to notice a pattern. The sheer rush of euphoria and affection created a high I felt each time I “topped” my partner, and it would sharply drop the minute I got home. I was drained of energy and in a foul mood for days, often skipping work or class. I felt stuck on something because I wanted to feel that intensely blissful sex all over again, but I couldn’t figure out how to get it back.

If you’re familiar with the after-effects of taking MDMA—the crash, the lack of endorphins, the dip in mood for up to a week later—then you’ve got a pretty good idea of how a “drop” felt for me. Just add in an unhealthy serving of guilt and self-doubt, a pinch of worthlessness and a dash of contempt for both myself and my partner, and voila! Top drop: the less talked about counterpart to sub drop where the dominant feels a sense of hopelessness following BDSM—bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism—if after care is neglected.

In the BDSM community, it’s common to talk about the submissive (sub) experience: To communicate the expectations and needs of the submissive partner before engaging in consensual kinky play, to make sure the safety of the sub during intense physical and/or psychological activities is tantamount, to tend and care for the sub after the scene ends and they’re brought back down to earth.

Outside of this, the rush of sadness and anxiety that hits after sex is known as post-coital tristesse, or post-coital dysphoria (PCD). It is potentially linked to the fact that during sex, the amygdala—a part of the brain that processes fearful thoughts—decreases in activity. Researchers have theorized that the rebound of the amygdala after sex is what triggers fear and depression.

A 2015 study published in the Journal of Sexual Medicine found that 46 per cent of the 230 female participants reported experiencing PCD at least once after sex.

Aftercare is crucial and varies for subs, depending on their needs. Some subs appreciate being held or cuddled gently after a scene. Others need to hydrate, need their own space away from their partner or a detailed analysis of everything that happened for future knowledge. But no matter what the specific aftercare is, the goal is still the same: for a top to accommodate a sub and guide them out of “subspace”—a state of mind experienced by a submissive in a BDSM scenario—as directly as they were guided in.

I asked one of my exes, who’s identified as a straight-edge sub for several years, what subspace is like. As someone who doesn’t drink or do drugs, I was curious about what it was like for them to reach that same ephemeral zone of pleasure.

“It gets me to forget pain or worries, it gets me to focus only on what I’m feeling right then,” they told me. “It’s better than drugs.”

My ex gave up all substances in favour of getting fucked by kink, instead. I’m a little impressed by how powerful the bottom high must be for them.

“The high for bottoms is from letting go of all control,” they added. If we’re following that logic, then the top high is all about taking control.

We ended the call on a mildly uncomfortable note, both trying not to remember the dynamics of control that ended our relationship.  Those dynamics were created, in part, by my BPD, and, as I would later discover, top drop.

In the days to follow, I avoided thinking about what being a top had felt like for me and scheduled a lunch date with another friend to hear his perspective.

“Being a dom gives you the freedom to act on repressed desires,” he told me over a plate of chili cheese fries. This is what his ex said to cajole him into being a top—the implied “whatever you want” dangled in front of a young gay man still figuring himself out.

He was new to kink, new to identifying and acting on his desires, and most of all, new to the expectations that were placed on him by his partner. He was expected to be a tough, macho top to his ex’s tender, needy bottom. His after-care, however, didn’t fit into that fantasy. If that had been different, maybe he wouldn’t have spiraled into a place where his mental health was deteriorating, along with his relationship.

The doubt and guilt that he would often feel for days after a kinky session mirrored my own. We both struggled with the idea that the things our partners wanted us to do to them—the things that we enjoyed doing to them—were fucked up. It was hard to reconcile the good people that we thought we were, the ones who follow societal expectations and have a moral compass and know right from wrong, with the people who are capable of hurting other people, and enjoying it.

For my friend, there was always a creeping fear at the back of his mind that the violence or cruelty he was letting loose during sex could rear up in his normal life, outside of a scene.

For me, there was a deep instinct to disengage, to distance myself emotionally from my partner, because I thought that if I didn’t care about them as much, then maybe I wouldn’t hate them for egging me on to do things I was scared of.

My friend has since recognized how unhealthy his relationship with his ex was. These days, he identifies as a switch (someone who alternates between dominant and submissive roles). The deep-seated sense of feeling silenced that was so prevalent in his first kinky relationship, is nowhere to be seen. He communicates his sexual needs and desires and any accompanying emotional fragility with his current partner. He’s happy.

I’m a little envious of him. My second-favourite hobby is rambling about all of the things I’m feeling, and it’s a close second to my favourite, which is crying. I credit my Cancer sun sign for my ability to embrace my insecurities, but there’s still something that makes me feel like I’m not equipped to deal with top drop.

There’s an interesting contrast between how a top is expected to behave—strong, tough, in control—and the realities of the human experience. When a top revels in the high of taking control, but starts to feel some of that control fading afterwards, how do they pinpoint the cause? How do they talk about that insecurity? How do they develop aftercare for themselves?

One of the hallowed tenets of BDSM and kink is the necessity of good communication; to be able to recognize a desire, then comfortably communicate that to a partner. Healthy, consensual, safe kink is predicated on this.

Complete Article HERE!

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7 Butt Play Tips for Bum Fun Beginners

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As a man who likes men, I can confidently say butt play isn’t easy. Bottoming can be back-breaking work, and topping is hard AF. But, besides that, it’s also unpredictable. You never know what’s going to happen. Is it going to hurt? What if he poohs on my peen, or worse, what if I pooh on his peen? Are farts a turn-off?

If you’re on your first anal adventure, you probably have tons of questions about the ins and outs of bum fun. Don’t worry. It’s normal. No one’s born an expert in anal and everyone starts out as a butt play beginner. So, if you’re new to fifth base and ready to explore the magical world of buttholes, this one’s for you.

Before we get started, let’s start by stating the obvious: The first time you have a dick up your ass, it feels like you have a dick up your ass. But, with proper preparation, you can enjoy every satisfying second from the moment of penetration to the flash of a climactic finish. Here are seven tips for butt-play beginners.

1. Tidy up

Ok, everyone has an opinion about cleaning out. Some guys are all for it while others believe the process is bad for your bowels. We’re not saying you need to hook up to a garden hose every time you take it, but a wet wipe never hurt anyone. Whether you plan to top or bottom, it’s nice to have a clean workspace. What if your man wants to finger your ass while you pound his purple starfish? It could happen, and you’ll want to be fresh(ish).

2. Start small

Start with something smaller than a cock, like the tip of your index finger or pocket bullet. By massaging the anus, you can loosen up the sphincter muscle and introduce the notion of penetration.

3. Go slow

Whether you’re inserting a pinky finger or a penis, go slow and find your groove. If you’re topping, going slow allows your man’s body to acclimate to the sensation of being penetrated. And, if you’re bottoming, you’ll appreciate the extra time to adjust to his length and girth.

Yes, when porn stars shove it in and go straight to pound town, it’s hot AF. but, in reality, it can be uncomfortable and ruin the whole experience. So, or the sake of the hole, slow your roll.

4. Reach around

If you’re the one playing the hole, distract your man with a reach around. This technique works particularly well if he’s on his hands and knees (aka in table position). Here’s what you should do: As you work his hole with your fingers, reach around and tease his shaft, balls and taint with your other hand.

It will drive him wild and take his mind off your fingers that secretly slipped inside.

5. Rim don’t ram

This one is self-explanatory. For tops and bottoms alike, it’s strangely tempting to ram it (your penis, a finger, etc.) in and get right to the rough stuff. Unless you’re into receiving or inflicting pain, don’t do it. Even if the bottom is ready to be penetrated, a forceful entry can make taking it too painful. So, regardless of your weapon of choice, rim the edge and carefully insert whatever your welding into the hole. Also, before you start poking around back there, lube up. Lube is your best friend

6. Communicate

Communication is key to just about everything. When it comes to sex, it’s vital. Whether you’re catching or pitching, ask your partner what feels good and before you perform any crazy maneuvers, talk to your man. Butt play is a lot more fun if you’re communicative.

7. Take fiber

If you’re not into douching but want to be somewhat clean, add extra fiber to your diet. The easiest way to increase your fiber intake is to add a supplement like Pure for Men to your regime. The ingredients in Pure for Men act like a broom and sweep out your insides. A clean butt breeds confidence, which makes it a lot easier to let someone put their finger up your ass.

8. Relax

The most important thing to know about butt play is that relaxing is fundamental. You have to relax. If you’re tense or uncomfortable about ass play, you or your partner could get hurt. So, unwind, grab some lube and explore your backdoor.

Complete Article HERE!

Be sure to check out my very own tutorials on butt fucking: 

Finessing That Ass Fuck — A Tutorial For a Top

and

Liberating The B.O.B. Within

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