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I straightened up and made a decision. With a click of my fingers and a gesture all present in the room began leaving, quickly and silently.

I wanted to concentrate on this slave alone. We were not strangers. I watched my other slaves depart, their naked bodies glowing in the torchlight.

The gold and steel gleaming on them, sometimes hidden by the cascade of hair falling from their heads in colours of flaming red, deepest black and purest gold.

My cock was stirring from the sight and the power as I turned my attention back to the slave at my feet.

Kneeling once again I decided to give myself a more leisurely tour of this sweet body in front of me. At the nape of her neck I brushed her thick hair to the side with the whip, letting it fall over her shoulder and fan out to the floor.

She winced as the whip touched her. I smiled, she has been a slave long enough to tell the touch of a whip in any form I thought to myself.

I moved the whip to my left hand and held it on the base of her neck. With my right hand I reached under her ribs and grasped her right breast, alternately pulling it roughly by the nipple and gently kneading it against her breastbone.

One of the greatest pleasures in owning love slaves is the granting of mercy, and of course denying it. Placing my palm at the top of her spine I slowly began to move downwards caressing her spinal vertebrae until I arrived at her coccyx when I made circles with my index finger which made her shiver.

Soon I moved my finger further downward to her most secret places. A slave does not have any secrets from her Master especially on her body, but I do not think that she truly understood this yet, but I assured myself that she would learn this lesson very well.

My finger brushed the downey hairs of her ass as it traveled so very slowly to THAT place. That most secret of places, her sweetly puckered asshole.

The slave tensed rigid as my finger touched her there and began gasping as I moved my finger in little circles in the sweat that ran down between her buttocks.

She glanced aside at the man who held her securely and a little too familiarly against his side. He was tall and lean, his shoulders wide, tapering to a narrow waist and hips.

His hair was sandy brown, curling slightly on the ends, which she realized would have curled wantonly if he did not wear it so closely cropped as the soldier's of the Empire were wont to do, shaved over and behind the ears, but a little longer on the top.

His eyes were an amber color, sparkling with that teasing light she had noticed up on the block, when he caught her peeking at him from beneath her lashes.

He grinned. His voice was kind she realized, as were the twinkling eyes that gazed down at her, little smile lines winged away from the edges, assuring her he smiled a lot.

She felt safe with him, she realized suddenly, making words spill out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Would he let her go? His smile slipped a little at her babbling and she wondered if he would? If he could?

She was a criminal now…the brand on her wrist proved it. She shivered slightly, feeling his gaze rake her.

She almost shook her head at the thought…no…she was a criminal for the rest of her life, as far as the Empire was concerned.

So, she was no criminal herself, Ky mused, pleased by that fact. It was the one thing Brinn had worried about, when deciding to bid for her or not.

He would be pleased, Ky knew…that the girl was only guilty by relation to her kin. Still, the way his commander looked at the girl, when she had been led out onto the block had told Ky that he would quickly get over his concerns about her.

She had been stunning, he could admit. Red-gold hair swirling about her lush, ample hips, the curls at her base slightly darker than those on her head.

A true red-head, he mused…shaking his head…who'd have thought it. Her skin was like white satin, the areoles around her tight little nipples, puckered with fear had been like the pink blush of a rose, assuring him her folds would be just as pink he remembered and though she was a dirty, grubby thing now…he was sure with the use of a little soap and water she would be breath-taking.

She blushed, feeling the cooler air touch her naked skin, her backside in clear view of all who wanted to see…of the man at her side. She tried to square her shoulders, telling herself it did not matter…he had already seen all of her anyway…but she could not stop her blush.

He quit his grinning, Ky mused. The man beside her caught her up easily against his side. The man's lips thinned, outranked, Ky knew…he'd keep his comments to himself now.

He turned away, leading the girl at his side through the stone walls that enclosed the slave market, out onto the street, where she paused slightly, dragging the cloak tighter at her throat.

He chuckled, a little surprised. He had expected her to be insulted by the man's base talk, "You are innocent…aren't you," he asked her, not answering her question.

If she did not know how the man had affronted her, he was not about to tell her. Gods…her eyes were amazing.

Golden-green the perimeter of her iris' trimmed in a deep blue-gray… slightly tilted at the corners, wide and fringed by thick lashes, she was chewing her full lower lip, the color of acada fruit, pink and lush and ripe.

He could not look away for a moment, wondering what they had been talking about. Oh yes… "You've never been with a man before…have you," he asked bluntly, she shook her head, having no inkling of what he spoke of he knew.

Cardasian females of the lower sect were often kept ignorant and virgins, he knew. It was the only bargaining tool the family had when they were of marriageable age, thus their one commodity was guarded like iron-rich ore or gold.

He shook his head. This girl was obviously passed the age to marry…why hadn't she been bartered to better her family's lot? She was certainly beautiful enough to bring a good price…money, goods.

He asked her just that, aware her face flamed like the Cardasian sun. She had not known him…the contract made by her father…who had also been killed some months ago when the Bolarian's had invaded Cardasia.

She dared glance up to where he was taking her. They had reached the edge of the town, where the Empire had set up it's base camp, buildings and guard-posts had been erected into a military city of a kind and seeing the large interstellar ships resting along the street they walked upon, she studied them, never having seen one up close.

She was not a slave, by her own measure…but he would insist she was, she did not doubt. If it were for mere cooking and cleaning…should he not have said so.

Ky chuckled. Brinn was a Dom, all commanders were. Life-long partners, commanders and their seconds in command were joined by years of military training…as well as a personal connection that was required of all the Empire's interstellar pilots.

It made them a team…of one mind and unified goal. He and Brinn had been partners for nearly six years now…not as long as some…but still longer than others.

It was a good fit, when he had been assigned to his commander…Brinn's always serious demeanor was softened about the edges by his ability to laugh and roll with the flow of things, Ky knew…though Brinn would never admit it.

The evil bastard…there was no love lost between the two commanders, nor their seconds in command, "And I can assure you…Brinn and I are the lesser of all the evils, who could have bought your lovely little hide.

She jerked away but he latched onto her just as quickly, "I…I won't do it," she insisted, mortified by what he suggested…she might not know all there was to know about the subject of fucking…but she certainly knew the word and knew enough to know she wanted not part of it.

She would…and she would like it, he knew. Oh Gods…what had she been thinking? She had wanted this man and his commander to buy her…because she had thought…had thought…what had she thought?

That they looked nicer than the other pair…that was it…in a nutshell. He kept a firm grip on her wrist, weaving his way between the monstrous ships lined up.

She was silent and so was he, thinking to get her on board and show her around, perhaps she would calm down a bit. She should have refused him it, if for no other reason than to make sure he understood she was not going to be their 'pleasure' slave.

Whatever that entailed she knew only the basics of it…whispers and rumors from village girls who had been mated, but she knew the commander would receive her data…he would know her name easily enough…no reason to annoy his man now…over something that would only become a moot point.

Immediately the hatch opened in a whoosh of air and began to lower. He felt her jump and step back, but he held her firm, tugging her up close to him.

No wonder they could afford to pay a thousand credits for her…they were pilots…the best of the Empire's best it was said. She shivered as the cool, filtered air from the ships interior washed over her.

Ky grinned. Were they leaving Cardasia? She had never been off her home planet before…the thought was frightening.

Bolaria was another star system away, she knew…but just where she wasn't sure. Twylla nodded. So far…he had said it wasn't, but having never left Ophus Minor, the distance to that major city was daunting.

She said nothing, wondering if she could find a way to escape, looking about the dimly lit confines of the craft. Even if she could manage it, then what would she do?

The brand on her wrist assured anyone who came into contact with her, that she was a criminal…she could not buy or sell…no one would do business with her…she was shunned.

She rubbed above the spot absently against her hip, fully aware it still stung and ached, the manacles about her wrists not having helped it.

He could she knew, his grip firm, not painful, but the strength of his hand told her it was possible. If she had learned anything of men, it was not to trust them to be gentle…her brother certainly never was, slapping her and pushing her when he thought her being slow with meals.

She peeked aside at him as he pressed her hand to the screen. She almost jerked back but he held her steady. She had seen one of these only once before…her brother had had her touch it…not sure why she had assumed he was just playing around with the palm scanner.

Oh Gods…she was a slave. What had she expected? Hadn't she realized it while cowering in her prison the last three days…she would either be sold or killed?

It was unreal…this had to be a nightmare. He pulled her hand away from the screen and instantly a green light shot out and began to trace her outline from head to toe.

The beam was warm against her skin and she squirmed, feeling it touch over her front, her neck and breasts, her belly and mons, then the man spun her about and the warmth sped over her toe to head, heating her backside and shoulders beneath her covering.

She gasped…and almost as quickly it was gone. She shook her head. Because it sounded like a woman? Jeez…shut up Twylla, she chided herself, nervous and not a little uncomfortable, realizing she sounded like a twit.

She nodded again, but he did not see it, instead strode along the long hallway where doors opened off to each side. They remained shut and she wondered what was behind them, but dared not ask.

At the end of the lighted hallway, he brought her up short and pointed to a still closed door, the markings over it were strange and she glanced aside at him.

Ky sighed. Not only was she innocent…but illiterate too it seemed. It was stupid and barbaric in a way…that they insisted their women were good for only bartering for a good bride price…and making babies.

He shrugged when she shook her head. He almost shook his head. Her hand touched the cool display and the door slid open making her jump back and the man…Ky laughed at her.

She could hear water running and glanced aside to see the tub filling with steaming water. A bath! Oh Gods…how she wanted one…how good it would feel.

She felt grubby from the toes up, she could admit…her hair plastered to her head. He left her sitting on the bench, watching longingly as the tub filled and opened a panel in the wall, pulling out white linens and bottles of different varieties.

He took one of the bottles and squirted a small dab into the water…instantly bubbles started to foam and she watched a moment, mesmerized, never having seen anything like it.

Her gaze flew up to his, seeing his amusement and no little determination as he crossed his arms over his wide chest. He would too, she could tell, her face igniting.

Would she constantly be blushing with him around? It seemed so. He shook his head, merely regarding her evenly, though his eyes danced wickedly.

The husky burr of it made her shiver, gooseflesh ripped down her arms as her gaze flew up to his. Who would have thought that her name on a man's lips could sound so good?

The way he formed the word, his mouth shaping it into a decadent sounding concoction instead of the commonality of what she was called, she had often hated her name…but when he said it….

Ky did. Part of the Michael Graham-Stewart slavery collection. See also ZBA Share your knowledge. This pen and wash drawing of what is probably a black eunuch presenting a probably Latin white slave girl for the inspection of their master - the viewer being made complicit in the intended purpose - relates to an engraving in reverse after Louis Marie Sicard, see ZBA Unknown circle of Louis Marie Sicard.

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So far…he had said it wasn't, but having never left Ophus Minor, the distance to that major city was daunting.

She said nothing, wondering if she could find a way to escape, looking about the dimly lit confines of the craft.

Even if she could manage it, then what would she do? The brand on her wrist assured anyone who came into contact with her, that she was a criminal…she could not buy or sell…no one would do business with her…she was shunned.

She rubbed above the spot absently against her hip, fully aware it still stung and ached, the manacles about her wrists not having helped it. He could she knew, his grip firm, not painful, but the strength of his hand told her it was possible.

If she had learned anything of men, it was not to trust them to be gentle…her brother certainly never was, slapping her and pushing her when he thought her being slow with meals.

She peeked aside at him as he pressed her hand to the screen. She almost jerked back but he held her steady. She had seen one of these only once before…her brother had had her touch it…not sure why she had assumed he was just playing around with the palm scanner.

Oh Gods…she was a slave. What had she expected? Hadn't she realized it while cowering in her prison the last three days…she would either be sold or killed?

It was unreal…this had to be a nightmare. He pulled her hand away from the screen and instantly a green light shot out and began to trace her outline from head to toe.

The beam was warm against her skin and she squirmed, feeling it touch over her front, her neck and breasts, her belly and mons, then the man spun her about and the warmth sped over her toe to head, heating her backside and shoulders beneath her covering.

She gasped…and almost as quickly it was gone. She shook her head. Because it sounded like a woman?

Jeez…shut up Twylla, she chided herself, nervous and not a little uncomfortable, realizing she sounded like a twit. She nodded again, but he did not see it, instead strode along the long hallway where doors opened off to each side.

They remained shut and she wondered what was behind them, but dared not ask. At the end of the lighted hallway, he brought her up short and pointed to a still closed door, the markings over it were strange and she glanced aside at him.

Ky sighed. Not only was she innocent…but illiterate too it seemed. It was stupid and barbaric in a way…that they insisted their women were good for only bartering for a good bride price…and making babies.

He shrugged when she shook her head. He almost shook his head. Her hand touched the cool display and the door slid open making her jump back and the man…Ky laughed at her.

She could hear water running and glanced aside to see the tub filling with steaming water. A bath! Oh Gods…how she wanted one…how good it would feel.

She felt grubby from the toes up, she could admit…her hair plastered to her head. He left her sitting on the bench, watching longingly as the tub filled and opened a panel in the wall, pulling out white linens and bottles of different varieties.

He took one of the bottles and squirted a small dab into the water…instantly bubbles started to foam and she watched a moment, mesmerized, never having seen anything like it.

Her gaze flew up to his, seeing his amusement and no little determination as he crossed his arms over his wide chest.

He would too, she could tell, her face igniting. Would she constantly be blushing with him around?

It seemed so. He shook his head, merely regarding her evenly, though his eyes danced wickedly. The husky burr of it made her shiver, gooseflesh ripped down her arms as her gaze flew up to his.

Who would have thought that her name on a man's lips could sound so good? The way he formed the word, his mouth shaping it into a decadent sounding concoction instead of the commonality of what she was called, she had often hated her name…but when he said it….

Ky did. Perhaps Brinn had been right when it was announced her hymen was intact…perhaps she was a bit too innocent…training her was going to take time and patience…something his commander had little of…patience.

His cock jerked again and he almost cursed it aloud. She was innocent…but Gods she was a little seductress when she looked at him from beneath her thick golden lashes like that.

He left her to the bath and once gone, she hastily dropped his cloak and stepped into the water. It was warm, delicious and eased over her aches and pains like a soothing balm as the froth of lather rose up just beneath her chin, she dared blow across them, hearing the faint crackle as they popped and she almost smiled.

Just to be clean…would be heaven, she swore, taking up a sponge attached to a long smooth metal handled apparatus, she gave it the once over, then pressed the little green button on the end of it's length, giving a little squeal when soap squirted out of it.

She smiled, glancing at the door to make sure the man was not returning and shrugged, chiding herself for indeed being silly. She laid aside the sponge and ducked her head beneath the water, running her hands through the thick skeins of hair, she rose and reaching for the numerous bottles he had placed alongside the tub, she checked the contents of each before she found one that looked like shampoo, but was unsure.

Overhead that soft female voice wafted down to her startling her. A peeping computer…she shook her head.

Feeling more than a little foolish, so the computer had picked up the color of the liquid in the bottle she held…and had determined it was hair cleaner.

A blue-green sensor beam swept across the floor and locked on the bottle she held, it startled her slightly.

You're being silly Twylla, she insisted to herself, shaking her head. She wanted all her hair, she realized, wondering if they meant to make her bald…as a sign of her ownership.

Some slaves had their hair removed, she knew…shuddering at the thought. Was that it? Was that all she had to do to make it go away?

That it even spoke to her had amazed her, but then the lieutenant had programmed her into the computer sensor hadn't he?

She sighed, remembering what he had said…about returning, she hastily washed her hair, then scrubbed, just as he had ordered her, between her toes…up her legs, mottled with bruises, some yellowish in hue…others fresh and dark against her pale skin.

She thought of how the village girls had teased her sometimes about how pale she was…but the sun never kissed her skin with a golden hue…instead she turned a bright shade of red…then went right back to white.

She soaped her arms, washing between her fingers, wiggling them in the decadent foam of bubbles that glided through her hands, down her palms and wrists.

She turned over her right wrist, seeing the ugly, burned mark just above the delicate veins there. She shuddered, recalling how much it had hurt…when they had laid the branding taser on her skin.

It was all she had been able to do not to scream. It was what the guards had wanted, she knew…having heard them placing bets on who would scream and who would not.

That she had not made a sound lost a big, surly looking man a coin and he had kicked her hip, hard for it, knocking her onto the ground.

She rolled her hip up and looked at the wicked purple bruise that still stained her skin there. She sighed. From prisoner to slave…it was too humiliating to bear…but what else could she do…but die?

It was the only option left her…still she did not want to be a 'pleasure' slave to these men…a toy for these Bolarian invaders. Unsure what a pleasure slave was exactly, she could tell by the sound of it…it involved their pleasure alone.

Would they torture her…as the guards had? She shook her head, feeling her heart rate kick up three notches. The man…Ky…he did not seem like the type to torture a defenseless female…but what if the other man…the commander was?

She shuddered, her hands starting to shake as she sunk into the water, feeling no small amount of fear at where her thoughts had taken her.

The door to the room slid open and the lieutenant was striding toward her, a frown on his face and she jerked herself up, crossing her arms over her breasts she gasped, almost shooting to her feet, but caught herself.

It suddenly occurred to him, she was afraid. Naked…again she was naked before him. He sighed. Binding, spanking, with-holding pleasure…it was what a Dom did to a sub, but she was too inexperienced to understand that just yet…and he hoped she would…and become used to it…in time.

She saw him wince, "It was your soldier's who did this to me…because of my brother's crimes…not my own…" her voice caught. Blast it all…she wasn't going to cry, she told herself…she had not cried up to now…she had refused herself that weakness…she could not cry before this man either…she could not….

Ky winced. Her skin was raw, inflamed and red…he wondered if the wound was infected, but knew the medical scan would tell him…and treat any illness or infirmity that she had.

Gods…she was about to cry…what would he do if she did? Ky nodded, wishing suddenly Brinn were here. Then revised that desire when he admitted his commander would no doubt have had the girl weeping by now.

Brinn was implacable…but he was fair and though not often gentle…he would know what to say to either anger the girl…or force her to a good cry…which was probably what she needed…though Ky could admit he could not stand the thought of her green-gold eyes flooded with tears.

The more he talked of his commander…Brinn…the more she doubted she wanted to meet the man…even if he had bought her. Everything it seemed was about his command…his wants and orders.

What was she saying? He was the commander…of course it was. He was not good at ordering females, he could admit…he was second in command…he took orders more often than not, except where cadets and those of lesser rank were concerned.

Brinn certainly never let him order him…that was for sure and he smiled a little at that…not really minding. She peeked at him, her cheeks flushed and rosy, the blush spreading down her chest to her breasts, hidden beneath her folded arms.

His stern voice told her that his patience was coming to an end. Did she really want to push him? He had been kind to her…gentle up to this point…did she really wish to make him angry?

She shook her head slightly to herself, but he misinterpreted her movement and his steely fingers wrapped around her wrist, careful to avoid the burn she noted, but strong and sure, he pulled her up to standing, even as she gasped and squirmed, trying to give him her back.

Better he see her naked backside…than her naked woman's place, she decided frantically. He stood and gathered up her still wet hair, wrapping it in a linen he had left for her bath.

He could not help himself, letting his gaze course down her body. She was perfection, he could admit…full breasts, small indented waist, full hips and thighs…her backside was a sloping line of perfection…as if sculpted by an artists' hands.

All that beautiful white skin…. He frowned. He let her…taking in the bruises over her backside and the backs of her thighs. It had not been dirt…but bruises…on her fair skin it had been hard to tell…and some of it had been filth…but these… "Shit…" he said again, pulling her back around to face him, she squealed at the quickness of it, shuddering, shivering uncontrollably.

He was angry she could tell. Unable to find her voice, she merely nodded, her chin touching her chest as she tried to shield her breasts with one arm, not sure if it were at her…or at whomever had hurt her.

He pulled her up onto the rim of the tub, reaching for the jar with the blue paste, she tried to back away, almost falling off her perch backward into the tub.

It was perhaps vain…but the thought of being bald appalled her…scared her more than being beaten…how foolish was that? Was she just overwrought and losing her mind?

She'd almost fallen back into the tub…how would he explain to Brinn his slave had split her skull open in the bath? Standing on the bench, she was the same height he was, she realized, making the mistake of looking into his amber eyes.

He wanted to laugh. Gods…she thought he planned to remove that glorious riot of red-gold curls that fell clear down to her ass. He shook his head, "Baby…it's not for your head…but for under your arms…your legs….

Her struggling ceased, as she looked at him with bewildered surprise. He shook his head to confirm her unasked question.

It was true…one of the reasons she had caught their eye…that and her beautiful white skin. Brinn was going to be pissed when he saw the bruises marring it.

She wanted to break down into sobs of relief, but managed to control it. Gods…she was losing her mind…to weep over keeping her hair.

It was true most slaves' heads were bald at their master's order…but she was for their pleasure…and her long flowing tresses were a pleasure to look upon indeed and were no doubt going to be soft and delightful in their hands…caressing their bodies, at least he thought so.

She stood stock still, her gaze locked on the tile beneath her feet, as he used a small flat utensil to spread the blue paste beneath her arms…over her thighs and legs…thinking him finished at last her face heating to near combustion at standing naked before him, she squealed when she felt the spatula glide between her thighs.

What was he doing? That paste would take the hair off her…oh…Blast… "Gods girl, be still," Ky snapped, losing patience after all.

Shit…she was going to kill herself. He tossed aside the spatula and dipped his fingers into the cream, knowing he couldn't handle her struggling form and spread the stuff over her labia and ass unless he used his hand.

Damn Brinn…he should be here…helping Ky grouched. What was the point in removing her hair there, she wondered frantically…how humiliating…how much more could she stand?

All the wiggling and squirming and pleading did no good. His fingers slipped and slid over that part of her no one had dared to touch. Further his hand moved back, parting the cheeks of her bottom she gasped and danced on her toes, trying to move away from his unrelenting touch, as his hand bit into her hip to keep her from wiggling away.

He had tried to ignore her lush warm heat…how her thighs gripped at his hand, trying to force him to stop moving it between her legs, how her full hip had brushed against his groin, his uniform now soaked.

She was not aroused, he knew…was too afraid to be…but he was…Gods dammit. Water flew over the edge onto his boots and he shook his head eying her before he left her to finish her bath.

Twylla dared glare at him defiantly beneath her lashes, head bowed she could not even properly show her irritation she realized…but managed a good glower or so she thought until he eased out the door, shaking his head and muttering she was only too aware…and only until she was sure she was safe…did she stand up…blushing at seeing her own, hairless nether lips.

Browse Fiction Poetry. Community General Fiction Poetry. Forum General Fiction Poetry. Story Story Writer Forum Community.

Fiction Romance. She was chained and huddled in the corner desperatly hoping they would forget about her. She heard one voice that stood out among the crowd.

An auctioneer calling out for bids. She had been taken to the slave market. Enjoy: Chained and huddled in the corner, she hoped they would forget about her…it was not to be.

Back arched, it tossed her red-gold curls over her shoulders, something she did not particularly want…at least she could have hidden behind her hair… "Up for auction…one Cardasian female…disease free…hymen intact…" she colored hotly at that description, wondering why that would matter.

Please… "Two-fifty…" another voice in the crowd spoke up, she opened her eyes, wondering who else had bid, but had missed whomever had spoken.

His eyes pulled her to him…his broad shoulders…please bid, she heard her mind insist, please…I'll go with you…but not the other one…please not him… "Three fifty….

Please stop…she was praying with all her might…please… "Eight-fifty," he agreed after the auctioneer called twice for the bid. The way he formed the word, his mouth shaping it into a decadent sounding concoction instead of the commonality of what she was called, she had often hated her name…but when he said it… "I'm…embarrassed, sir," she admitted, looking down at her toes, once more peeking from beneath his garment, she chewed her lip without realizing it.

Blast it all…she wasn't going to cry, she told herself…she had not cried up to now…she had refused herself that weakness…she could not cry before this man either…she could not… Ky winced.

All that beautiful white skin… He frowned. Slave Market 2. Flying 3. Yes Sir 4. Landing 5. Accident 6. Reading and Writing 7.

Commissary 8. Shopping 9. Punishment Merik Inspection Work And More Work Your selection. Back to collections. Actions Buy this image Add this to a collection Tags.

Black slave presenting a white girl for inspection ZBA Michael Graham-Stewart collection. Object details: Object ID ZBA Description This pen and wash drawing of what is probably a black eunuch presenting a probably Latin white slave girl for the inspection of their master - the viewer being made complicit in the intended purpose - relates to an engraving in reverse after Louis Marie Sicard, see ZBA It is a more salaciously suggestive version but whether it is Sicard's original - toned down in the print- or a spiced-up copy after that by another hand is not currently known.

Part of the Michael Graham-Stewart slavery collection.

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