A gay sex stories: Xmas in Madrid Pt. 04 After weeks of waiting we finally got the call to go to the airport in the last week of December, though it was still earlier than I expected. We packed hurriedly as if our chance would dissipate should we be too slow. And the possibility was indeed all too real since there were rumors of increasingly strict travel bans being enacted. Cindy was absolutely frantic as we strode the empty streets to the airport. What did she know that I didn’t?
Sitting nervously in plastic chairs in the empty terminal I reflected on my time with Cindy, Mathis, and Steve. It was a lifetime of experiences and sexually charged novelties. I felt like I’d done it all. I mean, I’d had sex with a number of guys, a pregnant girl, been in a gang bang, been dressed like a sissy. By all my imagination nothing was left to try.
We just needed to make it through the next few hours and we’d be home free. Meanwhile, Mathis was free of Cindy’s control, yet we all continued to hang out. I would miss her, and them, on the other side.
I thought she’d been reading my mind as she passed me a note: “Mile high invitation. Meet me at noon.” I smiled at her mischievously, but she motioned toward the stewardess at the check-in counter. The note was not from Cindy but instead from the hot hot employee in the sharp blue uniform. A woman like that had never indicated any interest in me, let alone come on to me so strongly – surely Cindy had arranged this. I wasn’t going to complain, and it was probably somehow intended to smooth the way for our journey.
Looking out the large pane window decorated in garland and tiny sparkling holiday lights, I saw the plane taxi up. It was an Airbus A318: huge and opulent and decadent beyond what should be allowed. I chuckled, as if I knew enough to know what should or shouldn’t be allowed.
The mysterious lady led me straight to the Stewards quarters while the rest of my band were seated off to the side somewhere. Just before leaving me Cindy explained that the plane belonged to the diplomats from the top floor of our hotel and she’d managed to find a way to get us on board. There had been no other way since all domestic flights had been cancelled only hours before. I assumed she gave her body up back at the hotel. Even pregnant she was still hot, hotter to me I suppose than to others.
I looked for a bathroom where the foxy, uniformed and long legged woman who called herself Minkova, and I, could consummate my initiation into the club. But she just approached me cat-like, right there among the rows of chairs that folded down from the wall. Any one of the other employees could enter at any moment.
Without a care in the world she placed her sensuous hands on my shoulders then kissed down my chest, her fingers trailing behind. Deftly she undid my belt and pants and began with no warm-up.
Gazing down at her blonde head with the green holly barrette in it, I wondered about the potential. Could this be the start of something special? Could I manage a long distance relationship in the age of pandemics?
It was a skillful yet perfunctory blowjob which brought me off too quickly and with little time to appreciate it. Then it was over and so was any illusion I had of love or even affection.
Standing, she left my spent member in lonely solitude, then patting my chest dismissively said, “That’s so you…last. You deserve a chance.”
She grabbed my hand and started leading me hurredly through the luxurious and spacious aisleway while I struggled to put myself away and zip up, stumbling as we went. We passed spacious living rooms, an elegant home theatre, and a mahogany lined yet ultra modern conference room.
There seemed to be as many stewardesses as passengers. And they were all equally hot. I guessed the wealthy flyers expected no less.
Apparently it wasn’t all they expected, as I passed this one guy and his server, I overheard. “Is there anything else I can get you sir?” He glanced at the floor between his legs and she instantly and dutifully knelt there ready to serve without question. I was shocked less by her behavior than the over the top trappings of extreme wealth and power displayed all around.
Meanwhile I followed Minkova further back, receiving my instructions the whole way. Mr. Big expects you to be completely straight, innocent, and most of all unwilling. At no time are you to cooperate or worst of all want it. Understood? If you’re a good actor all will go well…if not you may end up like the others.” There was a cold chill to the warning in her voice.
She handed me a silver serving tray loaded with nutmeg scented drinks, saying, “Go in and wait with a proper servile attitude.”
The back bedroom was larger than our whole hotel suite had been. Unlike the modern businessy feel of the forward section of the plane it was decidedly gothic. Red walls. Velvet curtains. Dim lights that looked like flaming torches – though that couldn’t be true on a plane. Bulky furniture and an even bulkier four poster bed adorned the chamber as well.
My eyes adjusted to the low light whereupon I then observed rows of subdued naked human forms lining one wall. They were constrained in various positions with their cocks, balls and nipples tortuously bound or clamped, and their bodies contorted into tangled poses.
From a distance no one seemed to be in any immediate pain or otherwise anxious to escape. But clearly none could.
I walked down the row examining each helpless soul in the veritable museum of B & D while balancing my tray precariously.
The first one I came to was bound intricately tight with rounds and rounds of brilliant white rope, circling his limbs and torso, and digging into his contrasting muscular ebony flesh. The knots were a study in artistic complexity. Miles of rope held him standing in place, occasionally linked to the wall so he couldn’t fall over. So much rope wound this way and around, that I could barely determine if he was naked or clothed beneath.
Next in line was a hulking weightlifter type constrained by chains, as if his great strength required metal rather than cotton. His oiled body glistened and he too was held up where the chains were connected to the wall. He looked into my eyes blankly, neither pleading for release nor communicating any great desire. I would have enjoyed him roughly forcing me to suck his plump cock, but his helplessness made him lose all sex appeal for me.
The third guy was duct taped and restrained by biting zip ties. The idea took hold that this place seemed more a display of various bondage techniques than a prison. The intent was clearly more about demonstrating the skillful application of the methods than in holding back the…actors?
Fourth was a thin wiry dude wrapped fittingly in barbed wire. A drop of blood escaped where one barb pierced his damaged skin, but upon closer inspection most of the barbs were rubber and caused no harm.
Further down the line a fully dressed and handsome athletic man was bound with a multitude of orange and black bungee cords. His clothing implied a pilot of some sort and I only hoped he wasn’t the pilot who was supposed to be flying this plane. But no jumbo jet pilot would be wearing a flak suit like his. Just then the plane ascended sharply but in control, proving the point. But why was he allowed clothing while the others were shown so lewdly?
A nylon clad man was suspended in the air, swaying slightly with the plane’s motion. Pinstripes ran down the back of his pantyhose which were rolled down to expose his ringed sex organs. He was tied tightly with additional nylons. In fact he was tied completely by various colored silk stockings, panties, or hose. Black ones bound his ankles. Red ones tied his wrists where they looped into a ring above his head. This of course caused his nyloned feet to hang limply and sexily. A green stocking gag was tied in his mouth with the ends hanging low. My eye was caught by writing, and looking closely I could see that all the nylons were autographed in black marker. I couldn’t discern the reason but I recognized many of the names: Chuck Shumer, Bill Clinton, Pence, Romney, and even Putin among other unknown names. This room held far more bewildering import than I previously thought.
After him I spied a latex/plastic/rubber sex doll propped up in a chair made of black pipes. With closer inquiry I perceived that it was breathing. Then I saw a man’s eyes inside the silicone female doll, darting from side to side: a living human literally made into a sex toy. He sat with his legs lifted high, ankles resting on the pipes. Cheap fake hair cascaded down his too firm breasts. Rubbery nipples waited to be pinched and below, a molded female pussy was positioned just a little too low to be anatomically correct. Any cock which fucked that doll’s cunt would find ingress in his deceptive asshole instead. This was the first victim who seemed not so willing. Being in the air, there was no rescue now and the bizarre realities in the room confused me all the more.
Walking along I heard ragged breathing from a bent over body with vacuum cylinders on his nipples and cock. The suction pulled his nipples obscenely into the glass tubes while down below the suction caused his dick to be engorged to immense proportions. How big would his cock have been naturally? How were the men chosen for their particular torture? How heavy was the weight hanging pendulously from his agonized testicles?
My thoughts turned to myself. Was I owed some twisted fate too? Was there any hope for me if the author of this room was too wicked and powerful to resist?
In a packing-crate box, with only his ass and gonads protruding through a gaping hole, a pale man awaited whatever abuse was destined to be his. His dick fell flaccid and unaroused declaring that the sexual nature of this was solely for his captors benefit and not his.
Huge wooden beams formed an X shaped cross upon which hung a tanned and blindfolded rugged explorer. His arms and legs were bolted to the wood by metal bands. His body seemed healthy enough, even if his spirit was weakened. Multi-color gruesomely bruised balls hinted at the reason. As I walked slowly past he whispered hoarsely, “Hit me again, Sir.” I guessed he wasn’t so oppressed as I imagined. Did all these men have agency, or not? I shivered at the possibilities even as I comforted myself with the lie that they were all fully consensual participants.
Taking another few steps further into the den I spied a chubby man in a shiny black latex bodysuit. Metal rings were sewn into the outfit which then connected him to the hideous piece of art they were all a part of. Wires emerged in various places, running to a transformer nearby.
I crept forward conflicted at how I was appreciating the lithe tan body of an attractive girl with her hands tied seductively above her head. She reached desperately with her toes, barely making contact with the floor, to relieve the strain on her wrists. The manacles that held her were the only restraints, making her the least bound of everyone I’d seen so far. She didn’t even have a gag like the others. The way she was stretched her large firm breasts jutted out while the flesh just below her ribcage was hallowed in.
I could see that she was uncomfortable, but yet she was smiling devilishly. Not sure I wanted to hear the answer I asked her, “Do you need anything? Do you want to escape?”
“Fuck no!” Was her vehement answer. “This is my greatest fantasy.”
I was relieved to hear none of this was real, “So you’re in no danger? You’re all not hurt? It’s like, all voluntary?”
She smiled wider and dashed my hopes, “Oh it’s quite dangerous. And he hurts me, us, everyday.” She jerked her head to point down the line, “They’re not liking it so much though. But I’m not like them. If I’m lucky I’ll end up like the Iron Maiden guy. It’ll just take two buttons and a lever.”
She perplexed me thoroughly. I was about to inquire further when her body pivoted slightly bringing her groin into view. I beheld a large cock and balls, the largest soft penis I’d ever seen. So perfect it would be a source of great pride for any man – except…
She was a man like the others. But that wasn’t what set my mind reeling: clearly some surgery was in progress on her mutilated dick.
“Do you… Does it… I mean, is it being…added, or taken off?” Again I was afraid for the answer and not at all sure which would be worse. If added, who was the donor?
In reply she tilted her head back and laughed, causing me to almost drop the tray. The obvious adams apple gave me the answer.
The next was the opposite – a hunky stud of a man strapped to a reclining medical exam bench. I actually admired his muscled form until I got closer. Where his manhood should have been was a perfect pussy. Every detail was perfectly fem and glaringly natural-born. I looked back to his square jawline, wondering at the surgical talent that had sculpted it. I was afraid to linger for what I might learn, so I scooted past.
This next one was hung by multiple inch-long hooks piercing his flesh. I couldn’t quite convince myself that it was merely an illusion? I also couldn’t quite see any proof that it was real either.
Moving onward to my doom I inspected the next one closely. He was tied with leather thongs. He wore a ball gag and a matching butt plug. And really that was all. How did this one seem so normal? How did the ridiculousness of his condition seem normal at all?
Beyond was a sissy boi in a white nurses outfit with a contraption mechanically fucking his ass. The machine was equipped with a rather large dildo. With each thrust his diminutive floppy penis slapped his stomach, then flopped back. Did he like it too? It seemed too large for anyone to enjoy. Placing my hand on his chilly shoulder I looked into his gagged face imploring, “Do you like it?”
He merely shrugged his shoulders. Was he drugged? Were they all?
Then there was an Asian guy tied to a Bamboo grate with bright red strips of cloth. Some rod was inserted in his very erect dick. I saw about an inch of the rod and guessed that it went all the way. He was asleep or unconscious so I left him.
I dubbed the next as ‘Sex Swing Couple’. They were forever fucking each other, bound in mid copulation, moving to the rhythm of an unseen pulley which pulled first on one then another rope. Their fate was clearly preferable to any of the previous. Nevertheless, they seemed bored by their perpetual act of sex. The ‘she’ in the couple was the first woman I saw, though I doubted my own eyes.
After them was an empty cylindrical cage. Was this to be mine? Had it belonged to an unfortunate who was now long dead? Based on nothing more than creative conjecture, I pictured his lifeless corpse being thrown from the plane mid ocean. To test my theory I pressed a nearby button causing the bottom of the cage to open. When I pressed the second button the floor slid away, revealing a closed hatch below. Not wanting to be sucked from the plane I avoided the lever in all seriousness.
Last, I beheld another attractive couple. Their familiarity intrigued me. I stared for a long time trying to figure out why they seemed like I must know them. Some long lost friends or high school acquaintances?
She knelt at his feet, her head tied to his waist so his cock was permanently impaled in her oral cavity. He wasn’t talking either, especially not with the blue dildo strapped to his face. Their obscene pose made it that much harder to discern their identities. Then suddenly I knew: it was Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds. Who were the owners of this place that they even had control over famous celebrities?
Just then a voice pierced the thick air, “Beautiful aren’t they?”
Bleary eyed I looked to the husky older man in a loose robe then back to the beautiful celebrities. He gestured to the whole lineup, “Do you like my collection of the broken?”
He approached me amiably, though I perceived his manner as more menacing. His hands reached for the tray as his robe fell open revealing a normal dad bod and more normal looking dick.
I proffered the tray, pushing it toward him, when he caught my foggy mind completely unaware. Swiftly he grabbed my wrists sending the tray clattering to the floor, and scattering broken glass and creamy liquid. I was off balance as he pulled me close. My clothed body fell against his hairy belly which was surprisingly taut. My face was pulled close to his, forcing me to look him right in the eyes. Steel cold irises looked back and I was aghast at the sight of his lips so close to mine. I watched them move in slow motion, “I like you boy.” Then he planted them on mine, pressing them to me hard. The roughness sent a tingle through my body. I would have been turned on greatly if he had been compelling me to accept his now turgid member into me, but his insistent probing tongue invading my mouth disgusted me to no end.
My insulin deprived strength was no match to his. He held my wrists firmly so no amount of struggling would extricate me. His hard dick poked at my groin, searching, but not discovering my absent erection.
He leered at me, “Yes, I like the fight. Let’s see how long you last.”
Minkova’s words came back to me, “that’s so you…last” and I remembered her admonition to be servile.
I loved being submissive. Taking cocks up my ass or down my throat – the rougher the better. Slimy cum gave me a jolt of sexual energy. But a man’s spit soaked tongue was inexplicably the biggest turnoff.
Planting my feet firmly on the floor I fought more until, jerking my arms, he threw me across the room. I staggered, trying to deprive him of the satisfaction, but I stumbled and fell into a pile of ornate pillows.
Rolling over I felt adrenaline-energized and manly like the assertive Mathis. I also felt resistant like my rebellious friend Cindy. I scrambled to my feet ready to throw punches.
The barrel chested master of this nefarious room was standing there naked, folding his robe casually. I appraised him reluctantly. Large as he was, he was lean and strong. He had a wrestler’s body, soft but full of subterranean muscles. He was hairy all over and his nutsack was larger than my fist. How much testosterone would they pump out? If I hadn’t feared for my life I could go for him sexually. To be dominated and tossed about the room would be fantastic foreplay under playful circumstances.
Not wanting to become part of his showcase I dived for a large shard but fell short. He stepped on my arms pinning me to the floor, “I am Kristo. Who are you?”
I considered his face. ‘Kristo’ I knew the name from somewhere. “Who are you?” He repeated.
I’d seen his face. In a picture or newspaper. I answered as defiantly as I could, “My name is James!”
Kristo kicked my side. Not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough to hurt. “Silly boy. Who are you?”
I studied his face quizzically, “I’m American. A traveler. I’m type 1 and I like girls…sex with girls. Lots of girls.” Though by this point in my life I’d had sex with more guys than girls. I wasn’t even sure I had a preference. My newest crush was the pregnant Cindy. I continued elucidating who I was, “Pregnant girls. I have a fetish for sex with pregnant girls.”
Kristo stepped off my arms and poured two glasses of Courvoisier. “Now that’s interesting! Tell me more. Are you a cuckold? Do you want to be pregnant?”
I sat in a Queen Anne style chair, “Um, no. I just met this one pregnant girl and the more we had sex the more I liked the look.”
He frowned, “That’s boring. What do you like to do with her? Do you put your dicklette where the baby is? Or do you avoid it, doing anal?”
I liked her to sit on my face and smother me with her heavy belly and softer than normal pussy lips. But I would never admit my subservient side to him: “I take her however I want. Her pussy, her ass. Missionary or doggy, it doesn’t matter.”
His mood changed, “Has a man ever knelt before you and sucked your Alpha cock? Tell the truth or I’ll know.”
Mathis had driven his big dick down my throat and sucked mine at the same time. But it was he who was the Alpha. “No one.” I answered truthfully.
Kristo clucked disapprovingly, “Surely you’ve had a gay thought. An urging from your subconscious?”
I hid my thoughts, “No, never. Just girls.”
He lurched forward, red-faced, yelling, “Liar! Everyone has musings.” I’d pushed a button and he’d lost control.
He probed further, “You want other guy’s wives don’t you. You see a couple walking down the street. And she’s pregnant. So you want to fuck her. To take what’s not yours. It’s all about the husbands. Now that’s your failing. Isn’t it? Tell me!”
Back at the foundation I’d been attracted to so many of the young pregnant girls. I’d stared at their big bellies, their engorged boobs, even their swollen ankles. But, really, I’d kinda ignored the guys. He was wrong again. “Yes, I’d like to fuck just about every pregnant girl I’ve seen. The guys are nothing.” I genuinely meant it.
Kristo was pissed, “Then you hate the not pregnant ones. You can’t get it up for a barren woman. Can you?”
In reality, I liked the dominant women. It didn’t matter to me if they were preggo or not. If a woman pushed me down aggressively and pressed her cute asshole to my lips I would find that hot. Though I could never admit that to Kristo. He could never be allowed to know about my subby nature.
“All my long term girlfriends have been both without child, yet able to carry.” It was a matter of fact statement.
He fumed, “We’re gonna find out if you’re telling the truth. But if you’re not – if your desires aren’t what you’ve represented to me, when I break you, then you’ll find yourself like the others.”
We both glanced at the menagerie, “For how long? How long do you keep them?”
“As long as I want. I teach them. Then they go away.” I didn’t like the way he said it. I had to avoid that at all costs.
He approached with ill intent, lifting his thick soft sausage as he came, “You want this don’t you?”
He stopped just short, with his cock inches from my lips. Studying my face he pointed the beautiful dick toward me, “You want it in your mouth. It’ll taste great – better than any cunt. That’s why all the girls suck cock: because it’s so great. Try it. It’ll be good.”
I shook my head vigorously with pursed lips. The gesture itself was false.
He caressed my head with his other hand, “Deep down you know you’ve always wanted one. Just lick the base.” His hand urged me forward but I admitted nothing.
Next he dick slapped me and it was almost too much. There was a stirring in my loins which I suppressed. I turned my head away when I really wanted to feel his cockhead part my lips.
He eyed me suspiciously. Then grabbing my wrists again, jerked me to my feet and propelled my body to the bed. I stumbled but didn’t fall this time. Kristo manhandled me to the floor in front of the massive bed.
Sitting with my back to the mattress he took my arms in his strong hands again, pinning them above my head on the duvet.
“Come on little cocksucker. It’s time to come out of the closet. When you do it, it’ll be the greatest sexual thrill of your life. You’re a born dick-licker but you can’t even admit it to yourself. But after you get a taste you’ll beg for more. You’ll be hard as a rock and you won’t be able to keep from beating your pitiful meat just from the feeling of my cock on your tongue.” I knew he was right. I had to fight the feelings.
His legs straddled my hips while his hardening dick hovered just above my face. Oh how I loved the way he held me down. How easy it would be to lick those sexy balls. And the musk was so hypnotic…
His soliloquy continued, “Your lies are a poison. You have such pretty words but you’re hiding the ugly truth.” He rocked his hips, bouncing his now firm cock musically on my nose.
“Have you ever seen poison ivy? Such a pretty vine. The symmetry of three balanced leaves…the beautiful berries… It climbs everywhere, like the weed of your lies. But in the end the itch will destroy you. I think I’ll tie you with poison ivy vines. It’s fitting for your deception.”
“No. I’m not gay. I’m not lying and I don’t want your dick.” Then I begged for good measure, “Take it away. I don’t want to suck it. Never.” But I was getting turned on the way his organ was rubbing on my face. The dominance of it thrilled me just like he had stated. My balls were drawing up close to my groin, then dropping down, like the mercury in a thermometer gauging my spurious arousal. I was lucky so far, lucky that I was successfully willing my dick not to swell with burning desire.
“The stems will wrap around your torso, they’ll travel through your ass crack. They’ll wind around your balls. The shiny leaves will leave their oil on all of your most delicate skin. And your hands will be unable to relieve the itchy welts of your pervasive lie.”
He rubbed his huge oily balls over my face to make his point. I closed my eyes, not to avoid them, but to relish the sublime sensation. My dick rose a little, lifting its treasonous head.
“I won’t be able to fuck you like the others. But I can do it now. If you don’t want my amazing cock in your mouth then you must want it up your ass.”
He took it away from me. Staring at my face first, then at my fortunately fear-shrunken cock. “I guess you’re not a bottom. We can just do oral then. Everyone gets horny after I stuff it down their throat.”
I groaned in ecstasy at the imagery, but he mistook it for dread. “Oh, little one. It won’t be bad at all. You’ll like it.”
“Open up and we can start.” I almost did. “Well, you don’t know what you want yet.” Shifting to hold both my wrists with one hand Kristo reached back, grasping my flaccid dick and loose balls. Squeezing roughly he commanded me, “Open up and you’ll be delighted that you did in just a few minutes.”
I yelped from the twisting and opened up, grateful that it looked like it was against my will. Without any seductive foreplay he inserted his thickness in my mouth. If he had taken the time to rub it on my lips violently or to caress my tongue with it while calling me nasty names, I might have popped. But the sudden intrusion didn’t give me enough time.
Disgusted, he let go of my penis just before it filled slightly with blood. “When I fuck your throat you’ll like it. The joy of breath play will deprive your brain of oxygen and give you an engorged cock hard enough to break ice.”
I’d been choked by cock before and he was wrong. I loved being controlled like that but it wasn’t the lack of oxygen that hardened my cock. Rather I loved the forceful nature just like he was promising. I would need to work real hard to resist.
Standing tall he pressed his cock deeper into my mouth, trapping my head between his body and the mattress. I missed having my arms held down but he knew what he was doing. “I’m going to go into your throat now. Go ahead, jerk off while I jam you. It’s all going to feel so good – my cock stretching your throat wide, my balls on your chin, and your own hands bringing yourself off. It’ll be the best orgasm ever.”
My dick was throbbing down there where he couldn’t see it. If I touched it now I would cum uncontrollably. I didn’t dare.
What would a straight guy do? In answer to my own question I pushed on his thighs. My struggles spurred him on and exciting me more.
Thrusting his hips he fucked me wildly, grunting and vocalizing, “We’re gonna love my cum plugging your throat. I’ll leave a big blob of splooge right where it’ll block your windpipe.” I could feel that his cock was too deep to do what he described. It would shoot directly to my stomach if he came now.
I was still pushing on his thighs as if I wanted him to stop face fucking me. But honestly, the thought of a big glob of gooey sperm blocking my throat so I would get to cough it up and taste it really rocked my world.
My cock started twitching and the ejaculation muscles started doing their thing. The next thing I knew my nuts contracted, my hips lifted off the floor, and gobs of cum jetted out of my cock as I had yet another hands free orgasm like I had had several times in the last months. Later when he saw the evidence on my front I would be lost. This orgasm was literally a little death.
Unaware of my orgasm, Kristo grabbed my head with both hands, “Jerk your cock! You know you want to. I’m gonna cum now so it’s your last chance to enjoy my cock. Jerk it! Jerk off!” But I didn’t, I didn’t need to since I’d already enjoyed his cock down my throat.
True to his word when he came he deposited his cum just deep enough to block my airway. Four or five big spurts later he stopped spasming and relaxed his hold on my head.
He yanked his wet cock from my mouth watching my face closely to prove to himself that I’d loved it.
I coughed up a massive ball of goo, snorting and teary eyed. I gasped for air trying to swallow as much of the delicious slime as I could, but plenty dripped down my chest mixing with my own cum that was already there and disguising the fact of my ejaculation.
Kristo shook his head, “Well it looks like you were telling the truth after all.”
He washed his dick while I collected myself. “You’re free to go, kid. I guess there’s a first for everything.”
Disoriented, I didn’t know the way out. I looked this way and that, anxious to get out of there as quickly as I could. The naked Kristo strode across the room rapidly to show me out when he stepped on the broken remains of shattered egg nog glasses.
Howling and hopping he staggered over to the obscene bondage display where he grabbed at the nearest object he could find to steady himself. To his great misfortune he latched onto the lever which controlled the hatch in the floor.
A great wind whirled about the room, and whether the evil man fell or was sucked out, the provident result was the same. Merry Xmas.
Author’s note:
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