give-to-receive

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Subject: Give to Receive GIVE TO RECEIVE As I have already mentioned, during my third year at University, my family’s financial situation suffered. It was nothing catastrophic, but enough that I had to find a way to earn money so I could have a social life. I went through some not very satisfying experiences in my attempt to earn some money. Finally, I went back to giving private lessons, although with the same problems that I had encountered before (lazy children, parents who did not want to pay if their child did not pass, rude children…). One day, while eating lunch at the Universitary residence, I heard other first-year residents sitting next to me. “Dude, then, did you really go?” They asked one. “Yes.” He spoke. “And did they pay you?” “No way. The first time they only ask you questions, a doctor sees you and they ask you for a sample.” “And was there a sexy nurse to pick it up?” one of them asked in a show of troglodyte masculinity. “I hope next time yes, and with the money.” He responded by tuning in to the level of the question. Feeling curious about the conversation I couldn’t resist to intervene. “What are you talking about?” I asked intrigued. It seemed as if the boy around whom the conversation revolved had been cut off by someone outside his group of friends intervening. “This one has gone to donate semen.” One of them responded to the embarrassment of the would-be donor. Realizing how violent it was for the boy that I had found out, I decided to make a brief comment and say goodbye to them. That sparked an intrigue in me. Many times, I had seen advertisements on the internet for sperm donation, but I had always ignored them. The idea that I could make money and help people with that was tempting. I searched on the internet for sperm donation clinics in the city and most of the results always directed me to the same clinic. This belonged to a chain of fertility clinics with offices in every major city in the country. The first thing that appeared on the web was a message of thanks for deciding to search for information and photographs of young men radiating happiness. There was information about the donation process, current legislation, and the great help that this `altruistic’ gesture meant. The process consisted of a first medical consultation, a blood test and an examination of a semen sample produced after a period of between 2 and 3 days of sexual abstinence. If after that consultation you were considered fit, you proceeded to make the donations, always after a period of abstinence. According to current legislation, donations were anonymous and a maximum of 6 pregnancies could be produced with semen from the same donor. Officially, the donation was an altruistic process, but the inconvenience caused could be financially compensated. After thinking about it for a while, I finally filled out the form. I had to indicate my first and last name, a telephone number, an e-mail address, my identity card number, and my address. In addition, I had to attach a photograph of the identity card to certify that I was who I said I was and that I was of legal age. Finally, I just had to select which of the clinics I wanted to go to and choose one of the available appointments. The day came and I headed to the clinic. I had kept 3 days of abstinence, which was not easy for me, to be able to fulfill all the requirements for that consultation. I was careful to choose a lunch date to avoid meeting too many people. As planned, there were few people, just a couple and me. I identified myself at the reception desk and was told to wait until the doctor called me. After a few minutes I was ushered into the office. “Welcome, take a seat please” The doctor told me. He was a man in his early thirties with a normal build for height, neither being too skinny nor fat. “Thanks” I said shyly. “So, you have decided to donate semen.” he said going straight to the point. “Yeah, that’s basically why I’m here.” “What do you do for a living?” “I am a medical student.” “Wow, a future colleague. What year are you in?” “In third year.” “Well, you’re already halfway there. Tell me, what has led you to want to be a donor?” “Well, I love children and the possibility of helping people who cannot have them is gratifying for me.” I said trying not to mention the money. “That’s fine. Besides, you know that you would be financially compensated.” Said the doctor. “That’s pretty good.” I admitted. “Do you have any major illnesses I should know about, or do you take any medication?” “Not that I know.” “Are you adopted?” “No.” “And is there any disease in your family?” “No.” “Perfect.” He took a series of notes on his computer. “I’m going to explore you. Take off your shirt and lie on the table.” I did what he told me. He proceeded to take my blood pressure and listen to my heart and lungs. “All it’s normal.” The doctor said. “Now drop your pants.” “Ok.” I said feeling vulnerable and a little clumsy, maybe because of nerves. I unbuckled my belt and pants and pulled them down to mid-thigh. “Also, the underpants. I have to explore your genitals.” The doctor gently instructed me. “Yes of course. Sorry.” I said feeling stupid. “Very good. Sorry if my hands are cold.” The doctor apologized as he proceeded. The first thing he did was grab my cock and expose the glans. He pressed it a bit as if he was trying to gently squeeze my urethra. Then he went for my nuts. He took both in his hands and compared them. He then proceeded to run his fingers over the entire surface of both balls. After that he examined the spermatic cords up to the point where they enter my body. With so much attention, the blood flow had changed, and my tool woke up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” I said trying to apologize for getting hard. “No worries. You’d be surprised how often that happens.” He responded by dismissing it. “You can get dressed now.” I quickly put on my clothes and sat back down in front of the doctor’s desk. “Everything is normal.” He spoke. “I’ll explain. Now, we must take a blood sample to see a series of analytical values ??and rule out certain infections and genetic abnormalities. We will also need a semen sample, but you need to have been abstinent for 2-3 days. When did you last ejaculate?” “3 days ago.” I answered. “Then you will be able to provide the sample today. To be considered suitable to donate your semen, you must meet a series of requirements. Not meeting these requirements does not mean that you are sterile, but you would not be eligible to donate. Most fertile men are not suitable donors. Do you understand?” “I think so.” “Well. If you meet the requirements, you will start donating. It is important that you always maintain abstinence before each donation, that includes nocturnal emissions. With the semen you produce for us, we will carry out acts of fertilization and research. The donations can be used in any of our clinics throughout the country, as well as in the centers associated with the company. Normally there are about 20-25 donations for each donor. The quality of each of your donations will be evaluated, if you deliver more than one in a row of low quality, the process will be cancelled.” “Ok.” I said feeling my testicles as a mere industrial processing center. “The donation is completely anonymous in both directions, that is, neither the families nor the children will know your identity or you theirs. If, for any reason, you decide to interrupt the donation process without medical justification, you will be fined for the expenses incurred. When delivering each donation, you will be financially compensated with �50 for the annoyances and inconveniences caused. Up to here, okay?” “Yes.” I said tersely. “There are two modes of donation. You can give a donation a week or one every three days. Since we open every day of the week, the second option takes less time than the first, which would mean about 6 months, but you won’t be able to ejaculate between donations. The process gaziantep escort will end when 25 donations are delivered or when the maximum of 6 pregnancies with your semen is reached. Understood?” The doctor said. “It’s all very clear.” “Okay, then sign these documents.” He said giving me an informed consent. “By signing this you say that you accept everything I have just told you and that you authorize us to analyze your blood and semen to check if you are a suitable donor.” After thinking for a couple of seconds, I signed the documents. “Great.” the doctor continued. “I am giving you a copy for you, as well as a small brochure with advice and recommendations to follow throughout the donation process. Now go to the waiting room and a nurse will call you right away to get a blood sample. In addition, she will give you a vial to deliver the semen sample. I hope you are fit and that you can help make a lot of people happy.” “Thanks.” I said while leaving the office. I hadn’t had time to sit down in the waiting room when a middle-aged woman, who I assumed was the nurse, opened a door and called out to me. “Sit over there, please.” The nurse said indicating a chair with a lateral support to hold the arm. To my embarrassment there was a trainee student. Luckily for me we didn’t know each other, and we didn’t meet again, but at that moment he embarrassed me a lot. I did as I was told and rested my right arm on the support. The nurse verified my identity again and the student proceeded to place an elastic band on my right arm. He took out a couple of tubes of blood and placed them on a machine that moved them. “Now I am going to explain how to collect the semen sample.” The nurse said. “You must get it by masturbation, I assume you know how to do that. You must wash your hands first, then you must clean the penis very well. The doctor has indicated that you are not circumcised, is that correct?” “Yes.” I said dead of embarrassment while the student did not take his eyes off me. “In that case you should soap your hands well and insert a finger between your glans and the foreskin. With that finger you must thoroughly rub the entire space. Hygiene is essential. Once well lathered you should rinse the area with water. Is that clear?” “Like glass” “When you are clean you can dry yourself with paper or you can leave the area wet, as you prefer. Then you proceed to get the sample. It is very important that you do not use your own lubricants or saliva. If you need it, you can ask us for a lubricant, we will give you one that does not affect the semen quality, but it is always better not to use any. When you feel that you are about to ejaculate, you must direct the opening of your penis to the sterile container that we are going to provide you. It is important that you do not touch the container with your penis and that no pubic hair falls inside. You should try to get all the ejaculated content into the container. If something falls out, never try to insert it later. It is also important that you do not urinate before obtaining the sample, since the acidic pH of the urine can affect the quality of the semen. Any questions?” “None at the moment.” I replied. Between the nurse and the doctor, they had managed to make me feel jerking off as an industrial process. The mental image of my favorite solo game had become like the pistons of a machine focused on making a product. “Here you have.” Said the student handing me a pot inside a sealed envelope. “The donation room is the one to the right of this, it is not lost. Once you finish you can deliver the sample at the reception desk. May everything go well.” The nurse said. “Thanks.” I replied wanting to leave as soon as possible. I went out and immediately saw the sign on the next door indicating the donation room. In my mind was a room with a recliner and a TV with pre-recorded porn movies. To my surprise it was a simple bathroom. A sink, a toilet, a shelf, and a magazine rack with porn magazines (all straight). I closed the door and bolted it. I didn’t want anyone to catch me producing my sample. I pulled my pants and boxers down to my ankles and proceeded to thoroughly wash my hands. With clean hands it was time to wash my friend, whom I had been ignoring for a few days. I cleaned him up on the outside first and he must have liked it a lot because he started stretching. So, I soaped my hands again and inserted a finger inside my foreskin. My glans was very sensitive, and the sensation was extremely intense. I rinsed everything with water and dried myself with some tissues that were on the shelf. I took the precaution of taking the bottle out and leaving it open on the shelf so that it would be easier for me to collect my cream later. Since magazines weren’t going to help me, I decided to put on a mobile video of sexy guys jerking off. In the meantime, my industrial production tool was put into active mode, ready for service. With the libido of a 20-year-old man who hasn’t cummed in 3 days, I grabbed my cock with my right hand and started stroking it hard. I didn’t even sit down. I was standing there, naked from the waist down with my pants around my ankles, pleasuring me by aggressively pounding my dick. It didn’t take too long to notice that my scrotum was shrinking, putting my balls on both sides of my hard manhood thirsty for pleasure. I grabbed the container, pointed my rock-hard hose at it, and released my thick man-juice into it as the shock waves of each spasm of my cock coursed through my body. I managed to collect all my milk in the pot and closed it. I washed my hands and my industrial production tool, which was beginning to relax after completing its task. I got dressed and left the bathroom disguised as a donation room. To my horror there were now a lot more people in the waiting room. Most were women, except for some men who were accompanying their partners. At that moment I realized how difficult it is to sneak around carrying a container with your seed. Some of the people there were aware of my presence and that I had a pot with me. I could notice how several glances scrutinized me. Red-faced with embarrassment, I placed the container with my cum on the reception counter. The receptionist took it and put a tag on it to identify it. “We’ll call you with the results.” She said matter-of-factly. I left there without saying anything trying not to look anyone in the eye. A few days passed and I didn’t know what to expect. On the one hand, it would be a good sign if I was considered fit, it would mean that my health was good and that I could get a good amount of money. On the other hand, being considered fit would commit me to the clinic and to a series of emotions that had begun to arise in me. I would have biological children who would not be mine and whom I would not be able to meet. If I ever met any of them, would I recognize them? Would they look like me? Would I feel emotionally attached to them? After a week or so, I got a call from a number I didn’t have on record. I immediately had a hunch that it was from the clinic. “Hello.” I said picking up the phone. “Hello, good afternoon. I’m Dr. XX from the XXX Fertility Clinic. Last week I attended you when you came to do some tests with the intention of becoming a sperm donor.” The man on the other end of the phone said. “Yes of course. How has it been?” I asked. “I am pleased to inform you that everything has gone well. There is no alteration in blood analysis. We have not found any genetic alteration. The semen volume is ideal with an excellent sperm count with healthy and motile sperm. The freezing tests have been fully satisfactory.” The doctor said with a cheerful tone in his voice. “Wow, how… how good.” I spoke. “Now, what do have I do?” “Now we need you to pass a psychological test and analyze a second semen sample to check that you are capable of producing more samples of this quality. For this I am going to ask you to ejaculate tonight, and suriyeli escort I will give you an appointment for the psychological exam in three days at 5 in the afternoon. So, you can deliver the semen sample the same day. Do you think it’s fine?” “Perfect.” I said a little stunned by the instructions received. At first, I thought about finding a hookup to get laid that night, but then I was scared that I might catch an STI and mess up my lab results. So, by medical prescription, I decided to jerk off and say goodbye to orgasms until three days later. The appointed day arrived, and I headed to the fertility clinic. As expected, there were a lot of people at 5pm. The pattern was repeated, the majority were women and almost all the men there were companion, except for one or two who avoided eye contact with everyone, so I assumed they were in a similar situation to mine. The psychologist did not take long to receive me and limited herself to following a questionnaire that I assumed was pre-prepared by the chain of clinics. Most of the questions were obvious and understandable, except for one or two that were a bit puzzling. In the end she told me that everything was correct on her part and she herself gave me a container to deliver the semen sample. As the nurse did on the previous visit, she instructed me that, once I had finished, I had to deliver the sample to the reception desk. That day I discovered something that I did not realize the previous time. There were several donation rooms, and they had a little light on the knob that indicated if it was free or occupied (I guess it was activated by the latch). The first room was occupied, with someone who was surely enjoying the moment, so I had to go to the next one. I don’t remember if it was the same as last time or not, but it was an identical bathroom. I went in, locked it, and pulled my pants down enough to let the family jewels take fresh air. I repeated the grooming ritual from the previous time, first the hands, then the genitals on the outside and, lastly, the meticulous massage of the glans and the inner foreskin. I placed the open sterile vial on the shelf and proceeded to hit the handlebars. I was horny enough to reach an optimal level of tightness with just the wash. For more comfort I decided to sit on the lid of the toilet. I enjoyed the moment by wildly thrusting up and down, feeling the skin slide down the shaft of my cock. I had so much desire for pleasure that I even thought that I was going to rip my dick out if I continued at that rate. After a while the hair on my legs would start to stand on end as the tension in my muscles became uncontrollable. I grabbed the sample pot and blew thick ropes of spunk into the hole in it. It was so powerful that part of the first jet escaped out of the container. I remembered that I shouldn’t put it on the rest of the sample, so I cleaned it up with a tissue and threw it in the toilet. I washed my hands and left the room. I headed towards reception. “Here you go.” I said blushing from shyness. “Okay thank you very much.” The receptionist said placing an identification tag on him. “Look, something… something happened.” I said with shame. “Part of…well…the sample has fallen out.” The receptionist took the pot and looked at it carefully. It made me quite uncomfortable to see someone looking at a container with my semen like that. “There is volume to spare.” She finally said. “Perfect, thanks.” I said with a double sense of relief. First for not needing to repeat the sample collection, and second for ending that uncomfortable conversation. This time it didn’t take long for me to hear from the clinic. After about three days I received a call. “Hi, I’m Dr. XX from the XXX Fertility Clinic. The analysis of the second sample has been totally satisfactory. I am happy to inform you that you are eligible to donate your semen.” The doctor said without waiting for me to answer. “It’s great.” I spoke. “I already told you that you could donate once a week, which would commit you to us for a longer time, or donate every 3 days, which would mean that you would not be able to ejaculate between donations. Which option do you prefer? Both options had drawbacks. Donating every 3 days would mean not being able to enjoy my manhood whenever I wanted, but rather when the clinic ordered me to, which would feel like having a factory between my legs. But I was studying away from home, so I wouldn’t be able to stay long enough to donate only once a week. Since I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time who could demand that I comply in bed, I decided. “I prefer to donate every 3 days.” I said decidedly. “Great, I’ll write it down. Ejaculate tonight and come for the first donation in three days. To prevent you from meeting the patients, the donation hours are from 7:30 in the morning until 9:00. It is an added guarantee of anonymity. You can come at the moment that best suits you in that time slot. Thank you very much for your generosity.” “You’re welcome” I said as I ended the call. That same night my hand, my cock and I said goodbye to our sexual freedom without knowing for sure when I would get it back. The three days passed with my libido growing, although without causing me to lose control except for one or two mistimed boners. The day finally came. I got up early, showered, and headed to the clinic with a tingling sensation in my stomach. When I arrived, I found a couple of guys my age, a year up or down, waiting to do the same as me. “Hello good morning, I’m…” “Here you have.” I was interrupted by the receptionist handing me a container in a sealed bag. “When one of the donation rooms becomes free, you go in and make the donation. Then you bring it here and show me your identity card.” “Okay thanks.” I said walking away. I went to one of the rooms that didn’t have anyone waiting outside. It had a red light, so I waited for whoever was inside to finish taking care of his business. Not really knowing what to do, I looked around me. There were several posters offering different types of fertility assistance, as well as care for gynecological pathologies. Among all of them I found one that encouraged sperm donation under the slogan ‘Giving life as a gift is in your hands’. Beneath that it was written in smaller print ‘How much of your semen have you wasted in your life? Stop doing it and donate it to give life’. That made me think about the number of spunks I’d had throughout my life and how my seed had almost always ended up in the trash can or the toilet. “Hey, sorry. There is a free room if you want to come in.” A guy who was passing by told me. He was carrying a small pot in his hand that he had clearly already used. “Thank you” I said heading to that room. I entered the bathroom disguised as a donation room and proceeded to my ritual of the other two times: pants down, pot on the shelf and thorough washing of hands and genitals. I made a fist with my hand around my cock and began to pleasure myself. I was sitting on the cold toilet seat with my back pressed against the wall and my legs stretched out. I was lost in the friction of my hand against my dick when the door opened. A young boy came in and we looked at each other with a clear expression of surprise tinged with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” Said the boy leaving and closing the door. I got up and did what I had forgotten to do, lock the door. With the shame still in my head I continued with the task that had brought me to that place. After a few minutes, that feeling that anticipates the sensory explosion ran through my body, telling me it was time to pick up the container and aim for it. Between spasms that sent currents of pleasure to my body my juice came out. To get everything to fall inside I grabbed my cock with all my strength, avoiding the slightest waste. I washed my hands and pulled up my underpants and pants. I closed the pot and contemplated my first donation. Not wanting rus escort to linger too long, I left the room. On my way out, I found the guy who had burst into the middle of my handjob waiting to come in. We looked at each other for a moment and, without saying a word, he entered the room that I had vacated. I went to reception and handed in my donation. “This is all?” the receptionist asked. “Y-yes” I said sheepishly. “I mean if you haven’t dropped anything outside.” She spoke. “Oh no. Everything is there.” “Okay, show me the identity card” I handed her what she had ordered, and she attached a barcode label. “How do you prefer to be paid? In cash or directly to your account?” she asked. “In cash, please.” I said politely. Since my parents controlled my bank account, I thought it best if they didn’t see regular income from a fertility clinic. “Well, here you go.” She said handing me a 50 bill and a receipt. “Thank you very much.” I said goodbye until three days later. The three days passed with a strong sexual desire and a few mistimed erections. On the third day the process was repeated. I went to the clinic, they gave me a container, I found an empty donation room, I locked it (I never forgot it again), I washed myself, I jerked off, I collected my milk in the bottle, I delivered it and I received an economic compensation. My sexual pleasure depended exclusively on what the clinic ordered. So, a couple of weeks passed. One day when delivering the donation, the receptionist gave me a bottle with some pills. “What’s this?” I asked surprised. “It is part of a research study on plant extracts and male fertility. You have to take one a day.” “I have not agreed to this.” I said a little annoyed. “You gave your consent for your semen to be used in fertility treatment and research.” She said in a surprisingly kind and inflexible tone. “It should not negatively affect your sperm production and, if it did, we would consider that it is not your responsibility, so we would continue to pay you the donations or in case you did not recover the adequate analytical levels, we would release you from your commitment. Thanks for your participation.” I felt strongly frustrated and even thought about stopping donating, but I didn’t mainly because of fear of possible financial penalties. I had no choice but to take the pills. They had no taste, and I didn’t notice any effect, as far as I know they might even have given me a placebo to be part of a control group. I was never told of any change in my semen. A couple of weeks later I found an unusually high number of donors. At 10 to 9 I was able to enter one of the donation rooms with the pressure of knowing that they wanted me to deliver my donation before 9. I wiggled my cock angrily feeling pressured to climax in a hurry. That pressure not only didn’t help me, but it made me take longer. The longer it took, the more I imagined the receptionist thinking it was taking too long. In an effort to force my explosion, I tensed my leg muscles and increased the frequency of my arm jerks, but muscle fatigue overcame me, and I had to break the tension. It took me half an hour to reach orgasm and spit out all the juice I had been making from my dick. When I delivered the donation, some patients had already arrived. “We would appreciate it for the next time you deliver your donation before 9.” The receptionist said with obvious annoyance at my delay. “It’s not my fault. If there isn’t a room free before then, I can’t do anything.” “There is a solution. You can produce the donation at home or wherever you live and bring it here. The only condition is that you must deliver it less than 15 minutes after producing it and that you must try to keep it at body temperature, it is enough to keep it inside your coat.” Since my University Residence was about a 5-minute walk from the clinic, I accepted. That day, along with the bill, she gave me a pot to collect the sample in my own bedroom. Three days passed and it was time to produce a new donation. Since the bedrooms were individual and each had its own bathroom, I didn’t have to worry. I took a shower paying special attention to the cleanliness of the family jewels. I dried myself and with a towel around my waist. I sat on my bed and put the container on the nightstand and began to pet my one-eyed friend. Immediately it hardened, seeming to want to escape from my body. I rubbed my cock wildly up and down; I have no doubt that if my member had been made of wood it would have caught fire. It was such an intense session that I even moaned a little. Within a few minutes I reached that point of no return that every man knows how to recognize from the beginning of his puberty. I grabbed the pot and let my spurts of cum pour into it. I wiped myself off with the towel and got dressed quickly. I put the vial with my seed in the inside pocket of my coat and went to the clinic. Louis CK once wrote `that fear just after you’ve jerked off that everyone knows what you did’. What he didn’t know is that there is something worse, walking around with proof that you just jerked off. On my way to the clinic, I passed several people, and I was afraid that they would realize that I had a pot filled with man juice in my pocket. It’s absurd, I know, but fear is free. Upon arrival at the clinic, I discreetly removed the vial from inside my coat and the receptionist handed me my payment and a new bottle. So, I began to donate in a different way than I had done before. This was how I produced the rest of my donations. Over time my sexual desire increased considerably. This translated into an exponential increase in untimely boners. I put all my efforts to hide the obvious bulge in my crotch, but on several occasions it was insufficient. It became so apparent that my friends commented on how ‘happy’ I was lately and how ‘hard’ things must be for me. During those last few weeks, I told my two or three closest friends what I had been doing. One of them understood, but the other two were somewhat uncomfortable and did not know how to react. About 4 months had passed since the beginning of my adventure as a sperm donor and I went with my donation to the clinic as was customary for me. “Sorry, we can no longer accept any more donations from you.” The receptionist told me when I put the pot on the counter. “Something has happened?” I asked fearing there was a problem. “No. But there have already been 6 pregnancies with your genetic material and the law prevents us from accepting more samples. As a thank you for your services, we will keep a couple of your donations frozen in case you want to use them. The rest will be used for research or destroyed.” “And what do I do with this?” I asked taking the boat with my jizz. “As I have told you, the law prevents us from accepting it, even if it is to discard it. You have to take it away.” “Okay. Thank you for the information and for being so kind these months. Hope everything goes well.” I left the clinic with my bottle of semen not knowing what to do with it. Passing by a garbage container, I threw it into it and returned to the Universitary Residence and to my life. Sometimes I think about those 6 families that I helped and what those at least 6 children that I will never meet will be like. At first, I did it for the money, but now it makes me happy to know that there are a bunch of people who are very happy thanks to my small but necessary contribution. —————————————————————————————- Thank you for reading it. If you liked this story and other stories at Nifty remember you can donate to help keep this website open for your pleasure. Feel free to send me your comments and thoughts to hoo You can read my other real stories here: -MY CATHOLIC STRAIGHT BEST FRIEND fty//gay/college/catholic-straight-best-friend -DISCOVERING MY FAVOURITE HOBBY fty//gay/masturbation/discovering-my-favourite-hobby/ -JAKE HOSPITALIZED fty//gay/college/jake-hospitalized -THE BEGINNING OF MY NEW FAVOURITE HOBBY fty//gay/highschool/the-beginning-of-my-new-favourite-hobby -THE SAMPLE fty//gay/college/the-sample -WELCOME TO THE PROFESSION fty//gay/college/welcome-to-the-profession -EASY MONEY fty//gay/college/easy-money

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