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Fiction / Piggie Plumpkins at FemcanCon 2020 Episode 2
« on: November 13, 2019, 01:59:15 AM »
Piggie Plumpkins at FemcanCon 2020
By morselman

Episode 2…

“Rise and shine piggie!” the security femcan said as she tripped the latch on the cage’s floor, opening a trap door. Plumpkins spilled out, every joint of his body aching with agonizing stiffness. His lower body felt raw as if he had been skinned alive! She glared at him fiercely, gave him a sharp kick into his ribs with a powerful leg then roughly yanked him to his feet so hard his arm almost left it’s shoulder socket.                                     

“You got to be made ready for today’s festivities, piggie--no time for dawdlin'!” She  fastened a belly chain unbearably tight around his waist and harshly cuffed his wrists to it. A pronged dog training collar was placed on his neck. She pulled up so it continuously dug deep into his flesh no matter what he did. Using full strength swings of her riding crop she prodded him forward, haranguing him all the while. “You got an appointment to keep piggie--I mean to see you make it!”

She kept him moving at double time through the hotel corridor, despite the soles of his feet having been beaten to a pulp by her the night before. It was early morning, and most of the guests were still in their rooms. Only hotel staff were treated to the humiliating spectacle--a nude manacled piggie being relentlessly driven almost to death like a faltering mule at the hand of a ferocious, absolutely heartless big black femcan mule skinner.

Finally they halted at the entrance of a vendor stall set up as a tattoo parlour. She pushed him in with a shove and nodded to the staff of femcan artists. “We gonna get you inked, piggie...” she said as they strapped him down to a bench. Soon Plumpkins was being poked none too gently with countless needles over his entire body. The security femcan left him in their “tender” care and made her way to back to her room.

When they were done, he was allowed to rise and look at himself in the mirror. The tattoo artists chuckled with glee, exchanging high fives for a job well done as Plumpkins gasped in utter horror. His entire body was marked everywhere as if he were a butcher shop diagram! Dashed lines depicted every single cut of meat with each section appropriately labeled--from “rib roast” to “rolled rump”!

With perfect timing, the security femcan returned--emitting a whistle of admiration, then bursting into a hardy laugh at the sight of Plumpkins. He turned toward her with a sulking pout and was about to voice a whiny complaint when the words caught in his throat.

Instead of her uniform, the security femcan was now dressed in a skin tight leopard-spot Lycra catsuit with a tight waist narrowing bustier, fully displaying the thick ultra-voluptuousness of her enormous body--astonishingly large breasts, pleasingly plump buttocks, large drumstick thighs and full spectacularly shaped calves, all of it combining into a jaw dropping, erotically proportioned obesity.

Topping it all off, her face was meticulously made up--resulting in a stern, no nonsense kind of attractiveness that absolutely took Plumpkins’ breath away. He gawked in astonished admiration, jaw agape and penis aroused. “WHAAACKKK!!!” A bright red hand print covered a full half of Plumpkins’ rapidly swelling face. “KEEP YOUR PERVERT PEEPERS TO YOURSELF!!!” the security femcan snapped, her face now contorted into a sneer of utter disgust!

She grabbed the chain to his collar, yanked it up tight and rained rapid-fire full strength slaps with the front and back of her hand across his cheeks, punctuating each word as she raged “DON’T--YOU--EVER--THINK--I’D--EVER--WANT--A--DISGUSTIN'--MISERABLE--PATHETIC--LITTLE--PIG--LIKE--YOU--EVER--LOOKIN’--AT--ME!!!”

Her temper finally spent, she led the dazed, swollen faced Plumpkins firmly out into the corridor--now a hive of activity filled with countless femcans wearing uniforms, outfits and costumes. The Concierge femcan was there to greet them. She was once again wearing the dominatrix outfit, but now her glorious red hair was pulled back from her face--tied into a pony tail hanging down to the waist, fully displaying her flawless porcelain complexion. “I see our piggie is ready for a busy day of cosplay. Very nice!” she said.

“But tattoos are permanent!” Plumpkins wailed “I can’t go through life looking like this!” Both femcans burst out into laughter. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that for long piggie!” The Concierge femcan said with a wink to the security femcan. “Now then, let’s go mingle with the guests, shall we?”

The FemcanCon attendees were dressed in a bewildering selection of costumes. Most common were were chef uniforms and kitchen staff outfits, some with large billowy and fluffy chef hats, some with the tall pleaded euro style chef hats. Also represented were comic, TV and movie heroines such as Wonder Woman and Xena. And of course, there were countless furries, kawaii anime and manga female characters. Plumpkins couldn’t help but notice that many were quite hot looking, and he began to stare.

The security femcan noticed immediately and became absolutely furious. “Eyes front pig!” she barked. Yanking his collar close, she struck hard across his face with her crop. “Nobody likes bein' ogled by a perverted little piggie!”

But the corridors, lobby and activity areas soon became filled with more and more femcans in sexier and sexier outfits--many of them invited pros that were absolutely gorgeous femcan models, singers and actresses. Plumpkins couldn’t help himself from stealing furtive glances. Each time the security femcan caught him she became more enraged. “STOP LEERIN'!!!” she shouted and rained rapid fire crop blows upon him. Soon she was watching him like a hawk, her face stern and fuming--ready to strike him at the least sign of straying eyes.

What was worse, Plumpkins had become fiercely aroused--his naked erection in plain sight of everyone. The Concierge femcan soon noticed and gave his genitals a sharp crack with her crop. “Nobody wants to see that pathetic little thing get exited.” she sneered. Presently she became Plumpkins’ “penis police” and was alert for the slightest twitch of arousal, responding both with a wicked crop and a withering tongue--her contemptuous, belittling remarks within earshot of all were so humiliating that Plumpkins turned absolutely beat red from head to toe, cringing with unendurable embarrassment as diverted guests looked in on the source of all the fuss. 

The situation became truly desperate when a group of extremely fetching femcans became highly interested in Plumpkins and his butcher shop diagram tattoos. They walked over to examine him more closely and converse with his two femcan keepers. Soon he was surrounded by a bevy of beauties who seemed to find him absolutely fascinating, and were greatly amused by his struggles to avoid the ire of his keepers. It quickly became great sport to tease and taunt him with mock affection and sarcastically suggestive remarks. The intoxicatingly sweet smell of them and sound of their lovely voices drove Plumpkins crazy with desire--even if couldn’t dare look at them.       

Before long it had all just became too much for Plumpkins and despite his best efforts he suddenly erupted into a uncontrollable orgasm--ejaculating so strongly that he almost fainted. To everyone’s horror, a speck of spunk actually landed on one of the nearby femcans!

The security femcan wordlessly exploded--absolutely speechless with rage!!! She grabbed him, furiously dragging him back to the torture room and roughly fastened him down tight to a rack belly up with his legs spread wide--completely exposing his helpless genitals and inner thighs. Without fanfare she grabbed two enormous knotted floggers and commenced to rain down a relentless rampage of blows upon the target of her fury with both hands! “WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!” Her jaw was clenched so tight she couldn’t speak--only grunts of effort were emitted as she poured all her strength into each whistling strike of her scourges. 

“YEEEEEEIIIIIIGH!!! YEEEEEEIIIIIIGH!!! YEEEEEEIIIIIIGH!!!” Plumpkins screeched over and over, utterly terrified. Soon his inner thighs and crotch resembled a pile of chopped liver, but still she didn’t stop.

The rest of the femcans had followed them in and crowded around the doorway to watch the spectacle. The Concierge femcan gave instructions to the kitchen staff with her cellphone, and soon a waitress arrived with a steaming liquid filled carafe.

At last the security femcan exhausted her fury and dropped her weapons. She then promptly stepped over to Plumpkins’ side and forcefully plopped her enormous butt sideways upon his chest, covering it from neck to crotch. She then vigorously shifted and twisted to better settle the maximum amount of her weight upon him. She was determined to continue his punishment…her strength might be spent, but her anger certainly wasn’t! Plumpkins felt the air being implacably pressed from his lungs, as he desperately struggled to gasp in even the slightest breath.

The Concierge femcan walked over next to Plumpkins’ ruined crotch and poured her carafe’s contents into his wounds. “I had the kitchen whip up a scalding hot salt and lemon juice brine to help you heal up, piggie…” she said with rich sarcasm. Having no breath available for screaming, Plumpkins mercifully fainted.

End of episode 2.

Fiction / Piggie Plumpkins at FemcanCon 2020 Episode 1
« on: November 09, 2019, 05:14:40 AM »
This is an updated and expanded version of a story I posted on the previous website... 

Piggie Plumpkins at FemcanCon 2020
By morselman

Episode 1…

“Bellboy piggie wanted. No experience or fitness standard required. Inquire at Hotel Femcan.”

Piggie Plumpkins read the Ad with pleased disbelief. Finally a job opening that didn’t require beaucoup experience or even a physical exam! Countless employers had turned Plumpkins down because he was over-weight and under-experienced.

Plumpkins eagerly took the bus downtown and arrived at the Hotel Femcan lobby. The hotel’s Concierge, a tall statuesque impeccably styled redhead with haughty airs and a cool appraising attitude, took his application in her graceful porcelain white hand and tossed it into the trash without a glance. “You’ll do quite nicely” she said, and directed him to the personnel department who cursorily processed him and provided him with an ill-fitting uniform.

“Yes…splendid.” the Concierge femcan said indifferently as she looked him over. “We are hosting FemcanCon 2020, and you are here to facilitate the guest’s activities.”

Soon, the hotel began to fill up with femcans from the world over--many of them professional gourmet chefs, famous cookbook authors and of course countless fans. Each group of femcans Plumpkins assisted had the same puzzling reaction--they looked him up and down with pleasant surprise, then gave each other knowing glances and sly smiles…  

Then Plumpkins noticed that he was the only piggie in the entire establishment! And every femcan he encountered in the facility, be she staff or guest, watched his every move with intense fascination. They often stopped in their tracks and followed him walking down the corridor with their eyes until he was out of sight. He could then hear them bursting into boisterously enthusiastic conversations about him, as if he were some kind of teenage heart-throb.

By the time his shift ended, Plumpkins was totally creeped-out and ready to leave for good--job or no job! He punched his time card and pushed on the employee exit door. It wouldn’t budge! He pushed harder with no luck--then he noticed the door had a coded lock for which he wasn’t provided the combination. He then headed back into the lobby and toward the front entryway.

The hotel security guard, an enormous black femcan who towered over Plumpkins like a giantess, blocked his way and leaned her huge breasts into his face. Her hands were set upon wide shapely hips that swooped out from a narrow waist and curved into a spectacularly large round buttocks set atop tall full shaped legs that seemed impossibly voluptuous. “Just exactly where you think you’re goin’ piggie?!!” she said crossly. The fierce expression on her broad face made Plumpkins’ heart quail!

“My shifts over--I was heading home…” he stammered.

A look of absolute rage came over her. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere!” She grabbed his arm with a grip like a vice, crushing down into the bone and lifted him up until his toes barely touched the floor. “We gonna see about this!” She dragged him across the lobby as if he were an errant child, much to the amusement of all the femcans present. She barked into her radio “We got us a piggie trying to leave without authorization…uh huh…right away!”

He was brought to the Concierge femcan’s office, which was unexpectedly dark. The Concierge femcan stepped out from the shadows. Plumpkins was astonished to see she no longer wore the stylish business outfit from before, but was instead clothed entirely in leather. Her shapely legs sported thigh-high stiletto heeled hip boots and a pair of widely flared riding jodhpurs adorned her curvaceous hips. Atop her head was a dominatrix hat and a coiled bullwhip dangled casually in her hand. “It seems we have a piggie that requires punishment…” she said coolly.

“But my shift was over--I just want to go home!” Plumpkins said plaintively.

The Concierge femcan’s deep green eyes narrowed with contempt. “The employment agreement you signed requires you to be on the premises 24/7--or didn’t you read the fine print?”

“What--I didn’t realize…” but before he could finish the security femcan turned up the lights. Plumpkins sucked in his breath as he saw the room was filled with such an astonishing variety of torture and bondage devises that it would have put a medieval dungeon to shame!

The Concierge femcan gave a rare smile. “The punishment for an errant piggie is Bastinado.” she said with obvious relish. Then nodding to the security femcan with satisfaction, she declared “Prepare him!”

The security femcan abruptly ripped Plumpkins’ uniform off as if it were made from the flimsiest tissue paper. She then effortlessly dragged him despite his vigorous struggling over to a set of robust wooden stocks. She secured him into the devise with less trouble than if he were a kitten. His head and wrists projected securely from the forward section of the stocks. He was bent at the waist as if bowing and his knees were bent back as if kneeling. His feet projected aft from stocks that encircled his ankles, placing the bare soles of his feet completely at the femcan’s mercy. Another stock firmly encircled his waist--preventing even the slightest squirming.

Both femcans stepped back and savored the spectacle of having a naked piggie completely exposed and totally helpless, giving them free rein to wreak havoc upon his flesh from buttocks to feet, including the most sensitive back portions of the thighs. They then made a great production of selecting the cruelest implements from an astonishing variety of corporal punishment devices mounted on display within plain sight of Plumpkins. They pulled each one down, discussing and debating its merits, ironically asking his opinion with cruel smirks.

They finally settled upon a pair of out-sized riding crops with braided leather shafts so thick they filled their hands like tennis rackets handles. Each was loaded with lead shot inside, giving them plenty of heft and both had cruel frayed dressage lashes on the tips. The security femcan took her weapon and smartly brought it down repeatedly upon the fleshiest sections of Plumpkins foot soles with all her might just as quickly as she could manage. The Concierge femcan skillfully aimed hers at the tenderest spots of his inner thighs with vigorously energetic rapid-fire strokes.

The air was filled Plumpkins screaming and howling, soon blending into one long wail broken only by his gasps for breath. The femcans both scolded him relentlessly, each crop stroke punctuating their cross words. The ordeal then reached it’s crescendo with them each targeting a butt cheek in a spectacular barrage of sharp crop blows. At last it stopped, but only after every square inch of his backside sprouted a bright red ever-swelling welt.

The security femcan then released him from the stocks and he was forced into a cramped cage that swung from the ceiling on a heavy chain. It was so small not only could he not stand up, he couldn’t even stretch out when he lay down. All he could do was hunch up tight and restlessly stir from one uncomfortable painful position to another when each became too unendurable to bear. All the while his nether regions throbbed in agony.     

The Concierge femcan leaned right into his face and said with rich sarcasm “Sleep tight piggie, you’ve got a big day tomorrow--as FemcanCon 2020’s guest of honor…”

End of episode 1.

Other / Lana's Halloween Happening
« on: October 17, 2019, 02:49:43 AM »
Lana's forecast for the Halloween Feast...


Piggie Plumpkins meets “The Femcan-azons” motorcycle gang. Episode 5

The Conclusion

By morselman

When the gang leader and those few like minded members of her gang had at last slaked their lust with the uneaten remnant of Plumpkins’ body, the sturdily built Femcanazon approached the scene of debauchery and said with impatience “If you ‘ladies’ are quite finished, some of us are in the mood for his sweetbreads…”

This remark was greeted with fervent agreement from all of the by-standing Femcanazons. They eagerly commenced another boisterous game of craps to win claim over the most savory of Plumpkins’ remaining bits. After the raucous contest finally ended, each victor enthusiastically collected implements appropriate for the happy task ahead of her…

They surrounded the blubbering Plumpkins, eyeing him greedily. The sturdily built Femcanazon deftly sliced into his belly with her blade and pulled out the liver with a rusty pair of pliers, careful to keep it still connected and alive. She then proceeded to delicately toast it with her blowtorch, humming cheerfully.

Her companions each repeated the process with his kidneys, thymus, pancreas and testicles--happily chattering like giddy school girls, affectionately gathering around their horror struck victim as if he were their greatest heartthrob!       

Not wanting to be left out, the gang leader clamped her rusty pliers upon Plumpkins’ tuckered out wiener--pinching down hard on the tender tip and pulling outward mercilessly as she attentively caressed the shaft with her flame, char-broiling it until crispy. His screams and howls were met by her with “concerned” coos and tut-tuts of mock sympathy.

One by one, the torch cooked gourmet gobbets of Plumpkins were gobbled eagerly down femcan gobs until nought remained of his glands but satisfied grins on their faces. The exquisitely pretty and petite little Femcanazon then produced an enormous machete and declared “Now it’s desert time!”

She displayed her weapon to Plumpkins with gleeful flourish and whirled it down upon the top of his skull with all her strength--breaking it open like a soft boiled egg, exposing the brain! Then, picking up a blow torch and briskly brushing the flame over the moist quivering mass she declared with obvious pride “This is my speciality--piggie brain brûlée!”

As the jovial Femcanazons--spoons hand, all gathered around Plumpkins expectantly, he could hear his brain matter sizzle and pop while his consciousness inexorably faded away… 

The End.           

Other / Femcan foody
« on: September 11, 2019, 06:19:49 AM »
Femcan foody fun...

Other / Plumpkins' playmates
« on: September 05, 2019, 12:00:30 AM »
Plumpkins plays house with femcan friends...

Piggie Plumpkins meets “The Femcan-azons” motorcycle gang. Episode 4
By morselman

Finally--after every inch of Plumpkins’ hapless flesh possessed the savory patina of a crunchy caramelized crust--the last cook-flame nozzle was stilled and he was removed from the Roasting Rig to be strapped down upon the rough work bench that served as buffet table.

Plumpkins exhausted breaths were whimpering, moaning sobs of agonized anguish as he beheld the horrifically irreversible destruction the Femcanazons had gleefully wrought upon his ruined body. But the dismay at this sight paled in comparison to his reaction at seeing the entire lip smacking Femcanazon gang eyeing him with mouths voraciously salivating.

Each ogling gang member held a fork and the cutting utensil of her choice--carving knife, butcher knife, steak knife, chef knife and even meat cleaver--and did they ever tuck into Plumpkins with gusto! The claims and entitlements established previously by their contentious gambling all fell by the wayside as they quickly fell into a feeding frenzy--ferociously squabbling over every morsel of him like a pack of ravenous she wolves!

Plumpkins watched in utter horror as each and every one of his precious irreplaceable body parts were relentlessly carved away--only to rapidly vanish inside famished femcan gullets! The sound of their chewing gnashing teeth and grunting appreciation of his flavor rose to a deafening crescendo, nearly drowning out Plumpkins’ piteous screaming and howling for mercy.
Suddenly, a fork wielded by the exquisitely pretty and petite little Femcanazon plunged deep into Plumpkins’ tongue, briefly silencing him. She deftly sliced it out with a swift stroke of her steak knife and gobbled the morsel down whole--winking with a mischievous grin at Plumpkins’ stunned expression!

The tasty tumult came to a sudden stop when the gang leader raised her hand to call a halt. Every scrap of Plumpkins that could be sliced away without removing anything vital for survival had been devoured and was now being lovingly digested within contented Femcanazon bellies. He was now little more than a head and torso--even his buttocks had been sculpted right down to the pelvic bone.

The gang leader surveyed the damage with a lusty leering smirk. “Nothing makes me so horny as a belly full of freshly cooked piggie and seeing the living remainder still breathing on the platter!”

The gang members all burst out laughing and nodding with boisterous remarks like “Here we go again!”

To Plumpkins’ astonishment she firmly grasped his member and began to vigorously massage it. “Your boy-bits have remained undamaged on purpose--I insisted upon it!”     

Her grin broadened as he stiffened. She caressed the bare skeletal remains of his arms and legs still attached to his torso. “I must confess--I have a raging fetish for half devoured piggies!” She straddled Plumpkins and inserted his erection into her moist pussy...   

Other / Lana's meatlocker of love part 2...
« on: July 25, 2019, 02:13:08 AM »
Lana shares a tender moment with a loving couple... 

Other / Lana loads her larder
« on: July 23, 2019, 01:30:47 AM »
Piggie in a pickle...

Piggie Plumpkins meets “The Femcan-azons” motorcycle gang. Episode 3
By morselman

Plumpkins squealed out a scream at the top of his lungs, and frantically struggled in a futile effort to avoid the blowtorch flame. The sturdy Femcanazon firmly grabbed his leg to prevent her aim being spoiled, causing him to screech even louder. All the commotion disrupted the craps game, causing the gamblers to gather around and grumble in annoyance.

The gang leader scowled “Our new piggie seems to be quite a fussbudget!”

“How about we hold off cooking him until our game is finished up?” suggested a petite and exquisitely pretty little Femcanazon. “Then we put could him into that old ‘Roasting Rig’ setting out on the junk pile!” The gang members all laughed uproariously and heartily agreed.             

The Femcanazon with the blowtorch shut her flame off with a huff. “Fine then--but don’t take long--I’ve got a major hankering for piggie steak!” She then nodded toward the gang leader and said “Meantime let’s us whip that junker into shape…” They both headed out the back of the clubhouse toward the junk heap.       
The craps game continued on, steadily dividing the helpless Plumpkins up amongst the gang piece by piece. Meanwhile, behind the shack in the darkening evening air--flashes of welding, sparks of grinding and clanks of hammering steadily repaired the “Roasting Rig”, all in preparation for Plumpkins’ celebratory BBQ...           
Finally, after every morsel of Plumpkins had been won and claimed, the craps game ended and he was bustled outside by the cheerfully rowdy Femcanazons. He then beheld with horror their newly refurbished cooking contraption, ominously awaiting his arrival within it’s merciless embrace.

Plumpkins began to frantically struggle with a sudden burst of adrenalin-fueled panic! “NOOO--NOO--NO!!!” he bellowed as the Femcanazons implacably tightened their grips--relentlessly dragging him into their dinner-device of doom. It was formed from welded up scrap motorcycle frame tubing and shaped into a hideous exoskeleton--intended to enclose a helpless piggie like a tight fitting cage.

The squirming, whimpering Plumpkins was no match for the gang of determined--and hungry--Femcanazons. He was strapped spread-eagle into the metal beast in short order as it dangled from an engine hoist framework. The “Roasting Rig” was festooned with countless blowtorch nozzles all aimed directly at every inch his quivering flesh--and each with a control valve for finely tuning it’s cook-flame! All were plumbed to a large portable propane tank of the sort used by backyard BBQ grills.

The same exquisitely pretty little Femcanazon who first suggested using the abominable apparatus gleefully produced a small BBQ lighter--displaying it to Plumpkins with an exaggerated flourish. She then proceeded to tenderly light all the cook-flame nozzles in turn, cooing and coaxing each to life and gazing at the results with the same delighted wonder as a child witnessing her birthday cake’s candles.

Soon all were lit, surrounding Plumpkins from head to toe with a gentle blue glow as the myriad small blazes gently puttered away at their lowest settings--like an army of little teasing tongues lightly tasting him in anticipation of flaring up full size to greedily gorge upon his defenceless flesh.

The Femcanazons gathered around watching the scene were completely in awe. They all stood there perfectly still, some garbed in leather biker jackets and vests emblazoned with their club emblems, others in just skimpy bikini tops above their tight low cut jeans and calf high low heeled boots.                     

“Well--I don’t now about the rest of you…” the sturdily built Femcanazon said, breaking the spell “…but I’m still hankering for my slice of piggie-thigh steak!” She then reached over to the cook-flame nozzles aimed at her portion of Plumpkins and twisted their throttles full open. Plumpkins reacted with a blood curdling shriek and panicked struggling against the unyielding bonds holding him fast as the flames jumped up to greet his helpless flesh.
The remaining gang members burst into howling laughter and then each proceeded to make similar culinary adjustments for their own choice selections of him. Soon it seemed as if Plumpkins was wearing a glowing blue suit as he writhed within the “Roasting Rig”, and his piercing screams became like a whistling tea pot’s…   

Other / Re: Lana's meatlocker of love...
« on: June 26, 2019, 12:11:57 AM »
I fixed it sort of...   

Pencil/Pen Drawings / Re: Man Stew
« on: June 25, 2019, 01:42:26 AM »
Have you ever considered learning to use any of the digital art programs? You've got the basic art techniques--why not exploit the computer age and create some real masterpieces?   

Other / Re: Lana's meatlover of love...
« on: June 25, 2019, 01:03:10 AM »
BTW--the title was supposed to be Lana's meatlocker of love (darn autocorrect) 

Other / Lana's meatlocker of love...
« on: June 24, 2019, 12:06:53 AM »
Femcan Lana--hungry hotty handy with a hacksaw

Pencil/Pen Drawings / Re: Man Stew
« on: June 22, 2019, 10:14:41 PM »
How's this for a caption:

"Well Mr. Piggy--enjoying our little Femcan island health spa? There's nothing better than a good long soak in a scalding cauldron of broth after having a deep tissue meat massage..."       

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