Callista; Captive In A Harem

I was an assistant producer for a TV station, in Phoenix, Az. Deedra, my producer, and I were discussing a bit of information we had just learned about. It was still in the rumor stage, but if true might require us to delve into this mystery, since anything remotely connected to this would make for a great story locally, maybe even national.

A few miles out of town we have a resort that caters to rich and influential females. It has been around for years, is widely known about, at least, from its customers. No one has actually got inside to report on their treatments, or what is offered to their customers. The fees are outrageous, the only way to be able to obtain an appointment is by referral from a current customer. If a regular member of the female sex called and asked for an appointment, they would be turned down. Exclusivity to the hilt.

The resort is on two hundred acres of land, nestled in between some low hills about eighty miles north of the city. The acreage is fenced and regularly patrolled. The surrounding area is cactus and mesquite, with a few dry washes meandering through the property and a proportional amount of rattlesnakes. Except for a path directly alongside the fence it is undisturbed, just like it was before it was bought.

The resort is not the story, the fact that a sheikh supposedly bought the whole resort recently and ceased its operation as a beauty spa that is the story. Of course, rumors were numerous at times like these, but one figure quoted the sale price was one hundred seventy million dollars. We immediately started wondering why a sheik wanted a beauty spa in the middle of the Arizona desert, surely with that kind of money he could build one in his own country and still have money left over. We tried to contact some of the employees, but finding them was almost impossible now. Most of the ones we knew about had moved, to destinations unknown. As we checked the list we had obtained earlier when we were contemplating a story on the spa, most of the sudden relocating had happened in the last couple of weeks. It was like they just disappeared into thin air.

Every approach to find something about this purchase and his intended use of the spa turned up empty. Deedra hired a couple of private investigators to follow any lead they might turn up, hoping for some info to let us deduce what they might be doing. The one PI found out that every Wednesday a private jet arrived at Sky Harbor airport, pulling over to a secluded hanger to unload. A limo left soon thereafter from there and headed straight to the resort. The resort itself was nestled among a bunch of palm trees, probably planted when the resort was first built some thirty years ago. That little oasis of palm trees was right in the middle of the desert acreage. Consequently it was almost impossible to see who got out of the limo at the resort from their vantage point in the nearby hills.

The next Monday the same limo left the resort and headed back to the airport. Their passengers boarded the private jet and the jet took off. Through FAA records we did learn the jet belonged to the sheik, a three hundred million dollar custom built jet that could fly non-stop back to his country in the Arabian desert. No cars seemed to enter and leave the resort any more, there was a truck that off loaded items from the jet and transported them to the resort once a week but that was it. A real mystery for sure.

Our PI’s stayed vigilant, one of them catching another vehicle leaving the private hanger at the airport a couple of hours after the limo left. They stayed at a luxury hotel in town and visited some nightclubs over the next few evenings. Then the day the jet was due to fly back they returned to the private hanger. They seemed to dress as normal tourists, attending the clubs and watching what was going on. They drank very little, usually wine with a plate of appetizers to nibble on.

When we checked into who owned the private hanger we weren’t surprised to find out it was another of the sheikh’s holdings in this country. Everything he owned was listed under a corporate entity, the list of properties and companies many and varied when we checked out his many corporate holding companies.

This went on for several months, with no more information than what we have discerned after the first week. The PI’s were getting expensive and since they were not turning up anything new we ceased using them. Both Deedra and I knew there was a story here, but the brick wall was getting harder as we constantly ran up against it.

At least once a week I would visit the clubs they had visited hoping to catch them there, and observe what they were doing. I often talked to the bartenders, usually a good source of information about what is going on in the club. At one club I overheard a conversation about a regular customer that had disappeared about three weeks ago, his friends not hearing from him again. The bartender told me he was a transsexual, a frequent visitor, several of his fellow trans friends meeting here every Friday evening. That corresponded to the amateur drag show that the club put on the same evening. He/she was a regular not missing any Friday night for almost a year.

I decided to see if any of the other clubs were gay friendly or held a drag show some time during the month. There were three others, all on the list that the couple visited regularly. I concentrated on those clubs and finally after four weeks I caught the couple at one of the clubs. They did nothing overt, watched the coming and goings drinking some wine and nibbling on a snack. The female part of the couple made notes on her smart phone, the ones she seemed to keep an eye on were definitely cross dressers or transsexuals. They did make a phone call or two during the evening, but the calls were brief and to the point since few words were said from this end of the conversation. But other than making a notation on her phone nothing was done, when the gals they were watching left, they didn’t follow them or try to talk to their friends. When the club closed at two in the morning they finally left, got into their car and drove away. I shook my head, there has to be some more to this, otherwise why spend the time observing these individuals.

But if they were responsible for the missing people what were they doing with them and why. I filled Deedra in on what I had observed, but she didn’t have any ideas to add to the ever expanding puzzle. Another month went by with nothing new turning up. I was still visiting the nightclubs but had not run across the couple again. I did hear of another missing transsexual, one that I had seen at one of the clubs quite regularly.

After I had shared that information with Deedra, she asked if I was still interested in pursuing this. I could see great rewards if we could crack this story, the money and fame from exposing this nationwide meant a secure future for me. Deedra would share in this, but she insisted that I was the one to pursue this, and then when we go public, I would be the upfront spokesperson on air and in any interviews, a definite plus for me if I could solve the mystery.

We talked for days on how to get inside what was going on, Deedra several times suggesting that I dress and act like a transsexual and spend time at the clubs we knew the couple frequented. I tried to evade making a decision on this, that particular approach making me very uneasy. According to Deedra I would be passable if not downright pretty after my transformation. That statement alone making me quite nervous. When another of the transsexuals went missing a few days later I decided to bite the bullet and switch genders. I could smell success if I pursued this, something that has evaded me ever since I graduated university. The lack of common sense pervaded, and I walked into this situation with both eyes closed.

Deedra arranged for my transformation, a local salon specializing in this type of thing. In fact they were part of a national chain doing this exact type of thing for any males interested in the feminine life. As I parked outside of the salon she had sent me to, I had second and third thoughts about doing this. The salon was huge and from the look inside through their front windows they were packed. I swallowed hard several times before I found the nerve to enter. I told them my name and was escorted to a room near the far side of the salon. On the table were some permission slips I had to sign, the lady did explain them to me, but I was more concerned with what was likely to come then listening to her explanations. It turned out I had no idea of the procedures to be performed or the end result. I signed on the dotted line and shed my clothes as requested.

The next four hours were a blur, I do remember being relieved of my body hair and a set of breast forms glued to my chest. I don’t remember my penis being glued out of the way and a silicone vagina glued over it. Then when I realized what had happened I missed my hair being dyed blonde and set in curlers. The blonde color now indicative of my brain activity or lack thereof.

Like most young college students I had let my hair grow to the point that it was touching my shoulders. Getting the job at the TV station was not a reason to get it cut, in reality the job of assistant producer was just a glorified gofer. I got lunch for quite a few of the stations higher ups, then maybe once a week got to rewrite some copy for the late evening news anchors. Oh I did get to go with Deedra when she was researching a story, but when it came time to write up the story I was left out of the picture. Maybe if I can pull this off things will be different, a chance to step up a notch.

Now that my image was feminine, they taught me how to do my makeup and a few deportment lessons. Those were accomplished in four inch heels, after two more hours of lessons I was outfitted with a sizable feminine wardrobe and then back to the styling chair so my hair could be brushed out. Once that was done there was no male left in the image reflecting back from the mirror in front of me.

I felt different, so many new sensations and feelings coming from parts of my body. It was awkward to get up from the chair, the breasts on my chest swaying slightly in their bra and my feet perched in the high heels trying to find some stability in a position I could hold for a minute or two. I did finally manage to find my bearings and started to the front check out desk.

To my surprise Deedra was waiting with a huge smile on her face. I got a hug, an action I had seen her do with other females at work, it felt good, a little reassurance for my frazzled nerves. She signed the bill and I was led to her car. I mentioned that I had driven, she ignored that statement and opened the passenger door for me. She asked for my car keys, then handed them to an employee of the station and told him to take the car to the stations parking lot. I knew of him but had not seen him standing there behind Deedra.

I was lectured about being out alone as a female, especially visiting the type of clubs I was doing. So I would now be staying at her house and someone would be dropping me off at the club I chose for the evening. Then when I called I would be picked up and delivered back to her house. I was given a top of the line cell phone, that could do everything but print money. I knew it was costing the station a fortune, but I did feel a little better having it with me.

Over the next few days I got used to having breasts and no penis. I still missed my long time friend, but was way too embarrassed to play with my new equipment one on one. Having two quivering mounds on my chest that had a mind of their own was still being dealt with daily. On many occasions I felt very vulnerable, being a female is nothing like a man. I found myself being more docile, submissive if you want, especially around males. I still had the same ideas and intentions, but was very reluctant to voice them. Especially at the clubs when a well built male made a pass at me, I suddenly became reclusive, hoping that he would move on to someone else. Tongue tied, nervous and stuttering was usually the end result of his attempt to chat me up. In most cases he did move on, much to my delight.

The other t-girls took me in giving me pointers and coached me in proper feminine behavior. Like others before me we became friends, hugging each other when arriving at the club, then spending time telling each other of what had happened since our last gathering. Of course we talked about clothes, or a new lipstick or what transpired at their place of employment. I immediately became aware of how lucky I was to be working for the station, since some of their experiences I wouldn’t wish on my worse enemy.

My work at the TV station didn’t really change, Deedra and I got closer some how, but as soon as it involved others I was ignored, probably worse since I now looked and acted female. I did have to cater to others more, when getting lunch for Deedra I was often asked to get someone else something while I was there. My male name quickly changed into Callista, a definite seperation from the former person known as Ross. After the first day dressed as a female I never heard the name Ross again. Kind of sad in a way, that Ross never made an impression as a male, one day and he is totally forgotten.

I think Deedra got a little carried away when she changed my HR files to Callista, a new ID was issued, and I was now an official employee of Walker Communications. A few days later a new social security card arrived, pretty much ending the life of Ross. I fretted over all of the changes for a day or two, but they were already done, so I quickly forgot about them figuring when I changed back to Ross I would sort them out then.

Work and visiting the clubs became a habit, in fact about the only things I did anymore. A few girls from work invited me to lunch when I wasn’t being a gofer, even a shopping trip to the mall every once in a while. I was included as a female, but maybe not as a friend. I think the fact that I used to be a male still was there in the background, affecting how they saw me as a person, although it was never actually mentioned.

Visiting the clubs became just a normal thing for me, I had almost forgot the real purpose in me donning female attire and portraying a T-girl. Then one Friday at the original club I came out as a T-girl, I saw them sitting across the room from me. Now the reality of this situation I found myself in came back to me in spades, my hands were wet with perspiration and I was having a hard time swallowing. I downed the last of my wine in one gulp and headed to the ladies room. I did my thing, but spent extra time fixing my makeup. It didn’t need fixing but I was so nervous. When I had first spotted them she was staring at me, then she would write on her phone then back to watching me. I decided to call it a night, way earlier than I normally did, but all of this was weighing heavy on me. Let’s face it I was scared to death.

I grabbed my phone and tried to call Deedra, her line was busy. I tried again fifteen minutes later same result still busy so I called Uber for a ride home. I waited a few minutes then headed outside to wait for my ride. This club had a bouncer so I hugged him and walked to the Uber vehicle I saw pulling up. The driver got the door for me, I entered and gave him Deedra’s address. He pulled away and I was soon lost in thought. I didn’t notice where we ended up at, but as I exited the car I paused a moment to see we were not at Deedra’s. I felt a sharp prick in my arm and I melted into the driver’s arms.

I woke several times, heard voices but any attempts at opening my eyes were met with a fuzzy image and a pounding head. I tried to focus on anything to keep me awake, but did not succeed as I drifted off again. I felt myself being lifted and then hauled on someone’s shoulder toward a plane the noise of the jet engines drowning out any attempt at rational thought. Well that and my still pounding head. I knew I was bound at my hands and feet, not able to do anything but wiggle my body. Whoever was carrying me swatted my butt real had and that was it for me trying to escape. I closed my eyes to help with the pounding head and soon drifted off again.

I did feel another prick in my arm, at least I think I did then some movement of what I was lying on and the noise of the jet engines as we took off. I knew this was not good, but further thoughts just seemed to fade away as the latest drug entered my blood stream.

When I next was aware of being somewhat conscious I was in a huge room with lots of pretty girls all dressed in silks and scarves. I found myself on a stack of soft pillows. still bound hands and feet. It took my mind a little while to put all of this together to realize I was in a harem, the sheik’s harem, at least, that is the thought that seemed to be the most logical. I struggled trying to get loose, not wanting to be here, especially dressed as I was. I could wiggle around a little, but that was it for movement. I gave up, coming to the realization I was stuck until someone released me, something I doubted would happen any time soon.

Once the other girls saw I was awake they summoned this fairly large male, even though his features were soft and slightly feminine. He picked me up like I was a loaf of bread and took me into a side room of the harem. There I was deposited on a table and he secured my hands over my head to a ring at the top of the table. He removed my clothes gingerly, placing them in a garbage container near the door. I started to say something, but he leaned in closer and put his hand over my mouth. In a very feminine voice he told me to keep quiet, there is no talking allowed in the harem, if I persisted I would be gagged or my vocal chords cut stopping speech forever. That did the trick, I stayed quiet. After all of my clothes had been removed two females entered the room, dressed much differently that the rest of the girls.

They introduced themselves and started examining my body. They are called ustas and look after the members of the harem, both the sultan’s wifes and his concubines. I was reminded to stay quiet, no talking is allowed by any member of the harem. If caught doing so the punishment will be swift and permanent. I just laid there letting them examine my body, no choice really I was trussed up still and secured to the ends of the table. My false breasts were removed along with my fake vagina. My member was examined closely, stretched and pulled to check for its elasticity.

A horrible thought crept into my mind, almost causing me to cry out. I remembered a couple of the T-girls saying their doctor did the same these ladies were doing to see if there was enough elasticity to form a properly sized vagina. I did remember to keep quiet, a small smile when one of the ustas saw me catching myself with my mouth open wide but no words forthcoming. They were a couple of tears though sliding down my cheek at the time.

When they had finished their examination of me some of the other girls came in and started adding things to my body. A collar was fastened around my neck, the height of the collar and its stiffness keeping my neck rigid, I could no longer turn my head or look down. My feet were put in boots that laced all the way to my thighs. The material they were made from was apparently leather, supple but when the laces were cinched my foot was held in pointe and I could no longer bend my knees. The ties that held my feet together had been removed, but I imagined this was a far more effective restraint then having my feet tied together.

Then they worked on my hands, by fastening a tube around each finger from my palm to just shy of the nail. The tube had a hinge so that it would open allowing the finger to be inserted into the tube. Once clicked closed I could no longer move my finger to do anything. Now no need for my hands to be tied together, although I had free arm movement I was unable to perform even the simplest function.

Two of the girls came closer giggling away, it sounded like a typical female giggle but yet different. My penis was pulled up and one of the gals held an ice pack around it, causing me to twist and turn but to no avail. I opened my mouth several times to protest but remembered the threat, not letting any words escape my mouth. After my penis went numb, they fitted something around it that was tight, causing them to pull and tug to get my penis inside it. They used a little lube to help the situation, then I heard a click, whatever they had placed it in was tight and secure now.

My feet were raised above the table, then clicked to two rings hanging there. That left my butt exposed, the reason for me to be secured that way. One of the girls applied lube to her fingers and inserted first one then two methodically into my anus. I twisted and turned again but with my feet up in the air like this nothing helped. I felt an object being inserted into my anus a little at a time, wiggled then withdrawn,. Then again until it popped inside causing me to take in an inordinate amount of air all at once. I felt stuffed but eventually the feeling succumbed some. It felt like my ass went numb, not feeling anything from back there any more.

While I was worrying about what got put inside me, the huge guy approached just out of my vision and pried my mouth open, inserting some type of apparatus into my mouth. One of the harem girls used a pair of forceps to grab my tongue and pull it into the apparatus. I heard a click and my tongue was trapped. My mouth could still open but my tongue was useless. Before I could come to terms with my apparent gag, I felt the mechanism around my penis being pulled back between my legs. My feet were still attached to the rings above my head so there was no way I could prevent the action. Another damn click and it was apparently secured to the intruder in my butt.

That was all I could stand, I started sobbing and waving my arms around in frustration. My feet were let down, and I was helped off the table. There was a mirror in front of me, my new appearance quite disturbing. I had a smooth front just like a female, the boots made even standing difficult, one of the other girls on each arm to keep me in an upright position. Essentially I was walking on my toes, my foot severally arched and held in that position by the boots.

I was helped back over to my stack of pillows and laid down, the tears still cascading down my cheeks. For all intents I was helpless not able to even walk, no ability to talk and looking like a breast less female. One of the members of the harem laid down next to me and comforted me, I eventually quit crying, my pillow that I had my head on still wet from my tears. With the collar on I could hardly move my head, so I just laid there, the female comforting me rubbing my back to get me to relax as I eventually slipped into a restless sleep.

I awoke to several of the girls rubbing creams and lotion all over my body. They were heavily scented, some type of flowery scent, a scent a woman would wear when she was after a male. I knew I was trapped in this situation, unless somebody came to rescue me, I would be here until they no longer had any use for me. The worst part, I doubted anyone that might rescue me even knew where I was at. Oh gawd, can’t think that either, so helpless and so screwed.

I did eventually relax some, the massage I was getting making everything seem a little better. As I tried to look around my eyes were fixated on a couple of the girls. Those same girls were the ones that went missing in the last few months stateside. Now it all began to piece together, I wonder if all the girls here are former transsexuals. I realized too late that I had played right into their hands, but since I was not really a transsexual that meant trouble for me.

One of the eunuchs, I think that is what they call them brought in large plates of fruit and vegetables and put them on different low tables around the room. One of the ustas came to me and inserted a device into my mouth and released my tongue. My mouth could function some this way, probably enough to eat some of the food. I was warned, one word and I would be locked in a box and left there for days. I quickly nodded my head in understanding. My girl friend fed me small pieces of fruit, or a small tomato. She like all the others had the metal pieces on their fingers making them stiff, but was able to pick up things somewhat between two fingers. We were given water in a squeeze bottle, the only way to get any moisture in our mouths. Pressure from a thumb and a finger caused a few drops to leave the bottle.

It took forever to eat enough to feel full, but eventually it was accomplished. The usta came back by and captured my tongue again in the gag rendering any speech impossible. I did eventually notice that there was soft music in the background, just barely loud enough to be heard.

My fellow companion stayed next to me, touching me often and always smiling at me. It was an hour or two later when another member of the harem came and assisted her in getting me up on my toes. I was walked over to a device near the edge of the room. My companion showed me what to do as she straddled the device and squatted a little. After she finished peeing she stepped a little farther and a fan came on drying her pussy. I watched as she performed this action right there in front of everybody. We seemed to all be naked except for some members of the harem who had scarves wrapped around their chest and bosom. She looked at me, then pointed to the device. I hesitated but then thought of later if I didn’t do this now, would I pee in my bed of pillows? I teetered forward in the boots, then had to concentrate to manage to release my stored up pee. I didn’t even want to think of shitting and what that would involve. The warm air felt comforting then I realized it was slightly perfumed, making me smell even more like a woman.

Back to the pillows and soon I drifted off, too much happening today and apparently nothing I could do to reverse any of it. I sure hope someone can find me, wherever I am now, but the nagging thought persisted that I am on my own, and most likely this life is my future. Then the brain finally kicked in, dummy that is why you are here now, they seem to be taking transsexuals males and converting them to realistic females as least in looks. I looked like a transsexual male and now I am a member of the sheikh’s harem, destined to have my body altered to that more closely resembling a natural born female.

It was not a restful sleep, several times I found myself staring at the ceiling wide awake fretting over what has happened to me and what most likely will come in the near future. The female that had befriended me cuddled me often during the night pulling me close to her, making me feel much better. At least, I felt that I was not totally alone.

Days turned into weeks, soon I lost track of how many days I had been kept here, just existing in my own little corner of the world. My friend in the harem tried to include me in her daily activities but I was so depressed I ended up just sitting there staring at the walls. I could tell you exactly how many pictures were on the walls and if they were landscapes or portraits of people. I did notice that once a month several girls like me were secured and taken away, then returned two weeks later. Their appearance was greatly enhanced, their bodies now nearly perfect in every way. Maybe a trip to the resort back in the states.

Lot of good that information might do me now, unable to use it, but now it was constantly on my mind waiting for my trip to the states and made to look even more like a female. That trip looked to be in my future, no way to avoid the trip and my future as a member of the harem, most likely a permanent member of the harem to be exact.

It wasn’t but a few days later when one of the ustas came and secured my hands to the belt around my waist. The belt had only been added a couple of days ago, probably in preparation for me being secured. I was carried by one of the eunuchs out of the harem to a waiting car. There along with another of the harem, we were fastened in the back seat by the seat belts and the car drove away. I was so scared now, imagining being taken away and surgically made to look female for real. I hadn’t eaten anything today, probably the only reason I didn’t throw up.

When the car pulled next to a jet on a landing strip, I knew it was going to be my time. Released from the back seat and carried on to the jet, then secured in a seat towards the middle of the plane. A few minutes later we took off, my anxiety was now so high I fainted. I did have a few lucid thoughts from time to time, but the entire flight seemed to be just a big blur in my mind. When I next woke I was being carried off the plane, placed in the limo we had seen come and go from the airport and driven away.

When the limo stopped an hour or so later, I was removed from it and upon seeing the palm trees all around me I figured I was at the resort. Several nurses came to help me inside, and I was taken to a hospital type of room right away. All of my restraints were removed including the tubes on my fingers, the gag and later my boots. Then the butt plug was taken out, I suddenly felt empty back there since I had worn it for so long, only having it removed when nature called.

Before I could do much I was helped on to a gurney and wheeled down a long corridor. We entered an operating room, at least it looked like one and the few tears I had been leaking became a torrent. I had my mouth open to plead with them, but never talking back at the harem was so ingrained in me that no words were uttered. As the gurney was positioned under the lights, a mask was placed over my mouth and nose and I soon lost consciousness.

The last thought I had was of the sheikh, my one time meeting with him a few weeks after being inserted into the harem, was pleasant, he was personable and wanted to know all about me. That meeting lasted for hours, although I knew eventually I would have to please him sexually somehow I no longer was dreading it. In fact the longer I was in the harem the less I was worried about my future. Maybe life in a harem would not be that bad, to be taken care of, pampered and waited on is not the worst thing to suffer through.

I woke later, my chest and groin hurting real bad. A nurse upon seeing me awake came to me, checked my vitals and put something into my drip. A few moments later I dozed off. That seemed to be the norm for several days, until one day I was given some jello to eat and was allowed some tea to drink. I was still hurting but if I closed my eyes for awhile it was livable with. I finally figured out the nurses were dilating me twice a day, that causing some of the increase in pain after they had performed the task. When they changed the dressings on my chest, I saw the size of my breasts now, my former friends back at the clubs would be envious if they could see me now.

I did lose track of the days, in and out of consciousness and my mind still quite fuzzy. Probably something they were giving me to keep me this way. I was examined very thoroughly one day, then later helped out of bed and taken to a waiting limo. Back to the plane and a long trip back to the harem. This time I did have a nurse with me to make sure I was alright on the trip. Carried back into the harem after the trip from the landing strip, I was greeted by all of the other girls with tender hugs and kisses. I was helped to another side room and positioned on a bigger pile of pillows. I had seen the rooms off to the side of the large central area but had never been in one of them. This room had a view of the surrounding gardens, had a small closet and a vanity. The pillows here were twice as large and were much more colorful then the ones I had slept on before. They were so comfy and soft, that within minutes I was fast asleep cuddled in the middle of a pile of them.

It was several weeks later when I was taken to the sheikh’s quarters. We were served a delicious meal, mainly finger food, but oh so good. He talked with me at length, the hesitation on my part to engage in conversation took quite a bit of effort to overcome. He told me that he had looked into my past after I had been abducted, knowing that I was previously Ross and worked at the station. Several of my fellow captives all concurred that I was really a female at heart, just not aware of it. Since I never spoke out about my new life, they presumed that I was happier as my female self, so plans to correct the mistake were carried out. He wanted me to learn about the customs of his country, about harem life and possibly become one of the ustas later in life. I spent the night with him, just being cuddled and held closely. Many kisses were exchanged, some of them quite passionate.

The next morning I was asked if I wanted my freedom, my sudden quietness the answer he was expecting. I got up on my toes, to kiss him and convey my wish to stay with him and be a part of his harem forever. From a captive to a willing participant quite a change, my life now so much better, and so much richer. Maybe not in material things but now I felt loved and cared for, a feeling I had never experienced before. A life awaiting me filled with luxury and love, a life in a harem.

Story Complete For Now

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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