The Collector

Submitted by: Nova

The lad rested in the sun under a spreading tree, enjoying the rush of his fifth orgasm of the day. It was just past noon. Soon it would be time for him to plug into the Collector and offload the morning's crop into the storage system. The sleeve around his manhood was still pulsing gently, stimulating him long enough to ensure he was completely empty. He yawned, turning over and letting the hot rays bake his brown body even darker.

For the next few years, his only function as a Procreator would be to ejaculate as many times a day as possible. Meanwhile, he was to remain as happy and healthy as possible, and when he was too old to donate anymore he would be given other work to do and taken care of for the rest of his life. The lad, Bryon, was one of the few fertile males left on his planet. His semen was the hope of his race. Most males were unable to conceive because of massive radiation damage, or had such terrible genetic problems that they should not. The rare few who were still normal were cherished like kings, and every last drop of their sperm was saved while they were at peak production.

Bryon scratched comfortably around the base of his collection sleeve and nibbled at an apple. He'd only been a Procreator for a year and he was loving it. Instead of working all day trying to restore their ravaged civilization, he had leisure time to spare. Besides that, every time he was even the least bit aroused the Device around his waist would stimulate him in a variety of ways and then save the result for collection. Artificial intelligence inside the unit ensured he was never pleasured the same way twice. When he was feeling vigorous, so was the stroking. When he was sleepy, he was stimulated gently. The duration was even altered so he never grew bored. Sometimes the Device even waited fifteen or twenty minutes after arousal began so that he had something of a build-up. He especially loved those times, because instant gratification grew monotonous after a while. He was given access to as many erotic movies and books as he wanted, dancing girls, courtesans of all kinds. He was rarely bored or lonely. If someone had asked him, he would have said he was the luckiest man in the world. And he was a great favorite of the Procreation Supervisors too, because on a good day he could manage up to twelve productive orgasms.

After a short nap in the sun, Bryon got up and stretched. It was nearly time for him to go. He was going to take a few weeks vacation (or so he called it) at another Procreation Center, to promote genetic diversity. He grinned. All the women in the world need my seed, he thought. It was hard not to be arrogant sometimes. To literally hold the future of the world in one's loins was a heady position. There would be new and different dancers, new pictures, new movies, new gardens to roam. Thinking about that made him hard again but it was a little while before the Device could make him climax, it had been too soon since the last time.

Afterward, he walked over to the Collector and linked up with it. It took a few minutes to drain all his semen out. He'd been a little more productive than usual today, and he suspected they were putting something in his food. He certainly got aroused rather easily these days. He plugged into a different attachment point then and drained his urine. This was also captured by the Device, but kept carefully segregated from the semen. He still didn't know how it could tell the difference. Finishing his routine, he plugged into the last attachment point and sighed as he felt warm water running up inside the Device, cleansing him and clearing any debris or dirt away. Externally the Device wasn't much to see, it was a smooth metallic shell that completely covered his genitals, allowing full erections. It was supported by a belt and hip straps, and the way it was made it prevented any external access to its contents. The cleansing cycle was finished now and he unhooked. He generally did this about every eight hours, though the Device had capacity for up to twenty four hours in emergency circumstances. But he knew that his sperm would be fresher and more viable this way, and besides he liked the way the cleansing cycle felt.

Bryon felt that it was his duty to ejaculate just as frequently as possible. He wanted to help his world and he loved the idea of being father to millions, maybe even billions someday. There was talk of starting another Program, where males who were past their prime production years might actually be allowed to copulate with women and impregnate them that way. This would be reserved for the elite, of course, but he was very interested in volunteering for that. He wondered what it would be like to enter a real woman. They looked interesting and he loved the way they felt and smelled. He had a fairly good idea, putting together what it felt like to enter them with his fingers, and the feeling of climaxing into his Device, but he knew that it was probably a pale approximation. But other events interrupted his reverie, as it was shortly time for him to catch the shuttle to the southern continent. He made sure to wear his finest robes as befitted his station, and also to show off. And he dutifully ejaculated again while waiting for the shuttle to pick him up.

He was going alone, the shuttle was automatically piloted. It was just a short hop to the other continent after all, the same as walking down the street. The shuttle was perfectly secure, the encryption in the piloting program insurmountable, the systems warded with failsafe on failsafe. Nothing could go wrong.

Except it did. A rogue storm was confusing the shuttle's gyros but it defeated the new logic problem easily. Unfortunately, the mail-pod coming the other way was not so well designed. It hit the shuttle, damaging the guidance system so that it was forced to land in a place that was completely off the charts. Bryon was scared but unhurt, and stepped out of the shuttle as soon as the door opened for him. He looked all around him and saw a boggy swamp surrounded on all sides by jungle. This had been the only clear spot within the shuttle's glide range, and he had a bad scare when the deck listed crazily under him. With a skip and an athletic leap, he cleared the shuttle just in time to see it start to slip into the bog.

"There's no way I can get that out," he said morosely. There was nothing to do but find a dry place to sit, and watch his only transportation slip into the muck. It didn't take long and then he was completely alone, with nothing but himself, his fine robes, and the Device.

Later, Bryon realized a mistake he'd made. He could have sent out a message for help, if he'd only spent more time studying instead of only enjoying himself. True, the only act he was obligated to do was taken care of by the Device. But he could have at least used some of his down-time to improve himself. But it was too late now.

"At least the Device is still working," he said. The danger had aroused him and he felt his member swell, ready for more stimulation. In time the Device responded and brought him to a more powerful orgasm than he'd experienced in a while. "That will be worth a lot when they come to collect." Terror raked his vitals. "What if they can't collect? I'm lost! There are no Collectors here, I'm in the middle of nowhere!" Eventually he calmed down and realized that he could always produce more sperm. It would be a far greater loss if he were to be harmed, because then he couldn't make any more at all. So he set about finding food and shelter, even managing to make a small campfire in a clearing that wasn't too buggy. He'd paid that much attention to the survival training, at least. And the Device continued to faithfully pleasure him. He managed six more erections that day, a record even for him.

Morning came and he sighed as he relieved himself into the Device. The readout on the front said "two-thirds" on the urine portion and "half" on the semen portion. That wasn't too bad, because if he had to (and he shuddered at the waste) he could trigger it and just release the urine and semen without a Collector. It was another failsafe in case of emergency. But what really worried him was the power readout. The batteries were at one third and falling. There was no recharging station and he'd forgotten to do that yesterday morning, when it was the usual time. Quickly, before the reserves got any lower, he went over to a bare patch on the ground and pressed the button that emptied the reservoirs. Milky white and golden streams splashed the ground, steaming a bit. Tears trickled out of his eyes at the waste. Maybe he could keep from getting aroused so that the Device wouldn't need as much power, he thought. And what will happen if it runs out? He fervently hoped he'd be rescued by then. Despite his best efforts though, he soon got another erection. The gentle stroking of his member comforted him until he remembered that this might be one of the last times he'd feel it.

It was evening when the power supply finally exhausted itself. At first Bryon didn't notice anything different. The belt was just as comfortable and the Device still enclosed him. But he knew that it was well and truly broken when he got an erection, about an hour after the last one (as usual) and it didn't start stroking him. At first he hoped that the Device wasn't really out of power and it was just making him wait, but a full half hour went by and there was still no response. He was aching for stimulation even after that short a time, his member twitching and throbbing inside the inert case. Eventually his swelling went away on its own, though, and that was a relief. He didn't know it would do that. He went to sleep that night hoping for rescue and wondering what the next day would bring.

There was a massive ache in his groin when Bryon woke up again. His organ was so hard it hurt, and he very badly needed to urinate. He tried to relax enough to do that but it was difficult, his erection kept twitching and distracting him. Eventually he managed it and it seemed like it took forever to relieve itself. Then he realized that the pump was probably broken too, and that was why it took such a long time. He felt better but he was still so hard it was torture. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't reach himself at all. And there was no way to get the Device off, none that he knew of anyway. It was fastened rather tightly around his genitals and the belt was locked. He would have given anything to feel the Device start up again, gentling him and releasing several ejaculations worth of backed up semen.

The way he reckoned it, there was already about ten hours worth of semen in his congested organs and it couldn't be released by any way he knew of. He was used to climaxing every hour to an hour and a half during the day, less in the evenings, and had been used to that for a full year. All that fluid was still inside him, churning and straining to be freed. He worried about perhaps bursting something inside, which felt like it might happen at any time.

He moaned. Rubbing around the Device didn't help. He'd never tried to get it off before but now he had to. Pulling didn't help and twisting was impossible. Perhaps the belt might be cut but he didn't have a knife. Fingernails were no good and there were no sharp rocks to be found. Finally he stopped trying and climbed a tree instead, hoping to see a settlement that could help him. There were none, but he did see a road several miles away. That, at least, was hope and he set off for it through the undergrowth.

At least thirst wasn't a problem. The water here was good and he drank deeply and often. The day was hot and he made slow progress through the jungle. Drinking so much water made him urinate quite a bit though, so he tried to moderate that because the Device would eventually run out of storage capacity. The vent button didn't work anymore because the batteries were so flat. So he walked as fast as he could and tried not to think of how badly he needed to ejaculate.

By evening he was in utter misery and there was no end in sight. There was no way he could get stimulation. Even inserting a finger into his own rectum wasn't helping, he couldn't reach his prostate. But it felt good and that was something. He rubbed in there a lot, washing often, and even found a thick-leaved, rubbery plant that made a slippery sap for use with his finger and various smooth stones he found. Still, nothing was quite enough. The closer he got to climax, the more inflamed he became. Eventually he collapsed from sheer exhaustion and somehow managed to go to sleep. His erection woke him several times during the night, and in the morning his whole groin felt like it was on fire. He moaned with need. He had not been relieved in a whole day and a half! But at least he could still pass his water and that would help quite a bit.

He was only two thirds drained when his flow stopped entirely. He angled his hips differently and was able to dribble a little more, and then that stopped too. He strained hard and passed just a bit more after that. Then he felt warm liquid soaking the tip of his member, oozing up around his shaft. The Device had exceeded capacity and now there was no room for anything to escape. His urethra stung from containing the urine, for instead of passing out it remained in the tube. But he wasn't too uncomfortable in that respect, he'd been able to expel most of his nightly flow after all. But his erection was unendurable. He pounded against the Device and it didn't respond. He pressed the ‘vent' button over and over again but nothing happened. He tried pulling it away from his body in hopes that some urine would drain. No luck there either because his massive erection sealed the Device to the base of his shaft. Eventually he gave up, tears squeezing out of his eyes.

He walked and walked, aware only of a heavy throbbing pain in his groin and a growing tension in his midsection. How much semen was in there now? Did his body even keep making it if he was this full? And how long could he survive without voiding himself? He was seriously wondering if he was going to ever get out of this.

Though he drank only minimal amounts of water, by evening he needed to urinate very badly. It almost eclipsed his sexual tension. Occasional spasms tried to force the urine out but there was nowhere for it to go. Maddened and desperate, Bryon started slamming a big rock against the Device, trying to break it open. It was hard to avoid hurting himself when the heavy, jagged stone skidded off the smooth metallic exterior. He only succeeded in scratching the paint. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get even a drop out past the cuff of the device. It felt like he was constantly open, constantly peeing, but the pressure inside him only built up more and more. It wasn't long before the muscular contractions caused him to cry out in pain.

What can I do to help this? Is there any way I can get rid of my erection so I can get this off, or at least empty the reservoir a little He pondered this as well as he was able. Maybe cold water will help, he thought, and waded into a nearby stream. The icy, spring-fed water caused the skin on his legs to contract and he began to shiver immediately. Now if only it does that for my groin... he sat down in the bitterly cold stream. Perhaps it was not really that cold but it certainly felt so, at least compared the warm jungle. His erection would not wilt, too much heat was trapped by the thick layer of metal and plastic. He tried feeling around the base of the Device again, but the heavy belt resisted any invasion. He was well and truly stuck without a sharp knife or saw. He fancied he could sense his internal organs rearranging themselves a bit, in response to the stretching inside. It hurt more than anything else he could remember. And it kept him hard, even though it was distracting him from his need to climax. It kept him very hard.

Eventually he got out of the water, shivering violently and feeling feverish at the same time. He wished he could just remove his genitals and go free, but that wasn't an option either. A round bulge was forming in his abdomen as he swelled inside. The Device, normally comfortably sized, felt like it was pinching his erection now. He moaned and curled up around himself, unable even to walk. He writhed, agonized. There was no way for him to find the slightest measure of comfort. After a few more endless hours, he simply fell unconscious.

He woke up from his pain-riddled stupor to an unexpected sensation, that of urine geysering from his body. It made a high golden arch that splashed far away from him. He was lying on hard, cold ground but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the fact that he could relieve himself again, unfettered by anything. What seemed like gallons poured out from his rock hard member, now mysteriously set free. The Device was gone! He could see his manhood! It looked huge, bloated, obscenely swollen. And there was the sound of soft chuckling all around him. He concentrated on how good it felt to empty himself, waiting till the last few drops trickled out before he looked around. Relief was amazing and nearly total. He ached inside and was still a bit feverish. His abdomen was no longer domed out. But he still felt the raging need to climax. It was even worse now, with no other distractions. And the Device was nowhere to be seen! Perhaps...

His question was answered when a curious hand reached out and touched him right on the glans. If he hadn't been lying down, he would have jumped at least a foot from the intensity of the sensation. It was a woman's hand. It drew back and then reached out again, stroking him lightly this time...too lightly for even his hypersensitive skin. Someone else was tickling his testes with a feather. They drew up between his legs and squirmed, all on their own. His shaft danced in the air. Slowly he realized he was surrounded by women, who soon started laughing at his responses. Their voices had a strange, throaty quality. His arms and legs were tied. He was helpless to resist them, so he concentrated on trying to make himself spurt. This was a new skill to master - he'd never had to do that before. The Device had always taken care of him. He thrust as hips as far as the ropes would allow, clamping his inner muscles and tensing himself to try to force his semen out. No luck. And the women continued tickling and stroking lightly... ever so lightly... After a time they washed him, but lightly, never touching him in the way he craved.

He gabbled something, unable to form coherent words. Then he tried again. "Help me. Please. Leave me alone. Touch me harder. I'm dying! I can't take it!"

The women laughed and continued. One of them was using her tongue to tickle him now. No one seemed to understand him, or care about his needs.

After what seemed like hours, his cries brought other attention than that of the women. A tall man walked over, casually scratching himself. He wore the same clothes as the others but had no covering over the shaft and balls. They were impressive looking, too. He spoke in a deep, rumbling voice. "You understand me?"

Bryon's voice was choked. "Y-yes. I need help!"

"You need help? You look happy to me. I translator. Where you from?"

"N-northern Continent. Please tell them to stop."

"What your name?"

"I'm Bryon." He writhed as they tormented his groin, now not even touching his manhood. "You don't understand, I'm in agony!"

"She says that's the proper state for a no-man."

"But I haven't ejaculated in almost three days!"

"What do you mean? That isn't very long. She wants to know."

"You don't understand. I usually do it maybe ten or twelve times a day. There's three days of seed inside me and I'm so swollen..." He was panting, finding it almost impossible to speak as they kept teasing him. Finally he began to cry.

The translator made a gesture to the women. They stopped their teasing, but they grumbled about it. "Tell me something. Can you make good children?"

He wondered what the man meant. Certainly he could. Didn't his lack of deformity make it obvious? But his shaft and balls, swollen so far out of shape, and his contorted posture might have made it look like he was a defective. "Yes! Or I could if they let me go. I have fathered millions of children. I was going to a Procreation Center when my shuttle was swallowed by your jungle. Please! I beg of you, let me go or I think I'll go insane!"

"Do you see?" The translator pointed to his large, low-hanging genitals. "This means I can make children. If a woman wants one, or wants to be pleasured, she can come to me any time." He stroked himself lazily. His shaft hardened and pointed into the air. "See them over there?" He gestured. "They wear gourd so they don't make bad babies, and the women use them as toys. They tease them but never let them release any of that bad seed. It's their punishment for getting too close to the radiation and becoming weak." The man he was pointing to looked tired and almost shriveled. He had a very small conical gourd tied firmly over his member. His balls were swollen and red even though he was not anywhere near a woman. He also had a reddish area along one side of his face and along one arm.

Radiation burns, Bryon thought. That would mess up his ability to breed pretty badly. But that means... there are others here... but I need to come. I have to. I'll go insane if I don't. It all has to go somewhere. To his amazement, he noticed that semen was oozing out of his slit even though no one was touching him. He didn't know it could do that. "Please... release me..."

A very large woman came up to Bryon. She was rubbing herself, her fingers slick with arousal. She pointed at him, at his towering, purple manhood. "You... much man?"

Bryon nodded, gasping.

"I need man." Without further preamble, she lowered herself onto him and began to move, her strong inner muscles milking him.

The semen inside Bryon gathered as his shaft plunged into her, rushing out in continuous jets. He howled and thrust wildly, feeling her slippery walls massage him into ecstasy. Nothing the Device had ever done had felt like this. Hard spasms tore through his vitals. His whole body jerked and shuddered in the intensity of his release. The other women were laughing and clapping as she rode him but he didn't care. He kept thrusting for several minutes, it took him so long to empty. And then he kept it up for a while longer just because it felt good.

Her face split in a broad grin as she squeezed him inside her. "You much man!"

I'm not much man at all, he thought, and it was an effort not to simply pass out from relief and exhaustion. He would have collapsed if he'd not already been lying on the ground.

The other women crowded around, dipping their fingers in the flood of semen that was all over his belly and groin. They began rubbing themselves with it, dipping their fingers into their clefts. Some drove deep and others used just the fingertips. They were obviously very aroused and wanted him too.

Bryon was still hard. He didn't know if he'd ever go soft again. The large woman (probably the leader, he thought) got off him and another mounted him. She was small and slender, and she had a hard time sliding onto him. His glans rubbed up and down in her folds and he felt himself tense again, wanting inside that heated tightness.

She rocked back and forth, bearing down on him, stretching herself slowly. Eventually she forced her opening wide enough for him to enter. Her fingers were busy as she rode. As soon as she felt his thick hardness slide all the way inside her she ground her hips against him, working herself into frenzy.

Bryon pumped and pumped, his muscles locking and this time it took forever for him to ejaculate. His partner didn't seem to mind and she spasmed around him at least twice before he did. When he felt the last drops spurting out, he had no more strength to move. He fell asleep almost as soon as she dismounted, and as his dreams began he smiled, just glad to have peace at last.

Bryon slept for many hours and was awakened by a cool, damp cloth bathing him as he slept. There were no teasing fingers this time, and as he opened his eyes he noticed a bowl of fruit waiting by his head. He was lying in a hut, resting on a pile of fine pelts. He stretched a little, taking stock. He was urgently erect, and needed to pass his water, but the agonized need was gone. He felt rather bruised inside, and his genitals were a little sore too, but otherwise he felt whole and healthy. He looked to see who had been washing him.

Earnest, brown eyes met Bryon's. It was a man, no, a "no-man," who was apparently acting as servant. He wore simple clothes and was behaving in a cringing, subservient way. Bryon tried to smile, but was feeling a little uncomfortable. Oh well, there were matters that needed attention before opening negotiations. First, he wanted to go water a tree, and then he wanted to go find a woman who wanted his services. He could tell he was getting better at going without, since he'd made it through the night without an orgasm, but there was still quite a sizeable reserve of semen that wanted to be put somewhere worthwhile. First things first, he thought. He got up and went outside the hut. He sighed with happiness as he let his stream splash upon the ground. Holding himself, he found that he liked the solid, meaty feel of his erect shaft as it throbbed in his hand. It felt even better to stroke it, and better still to squeeze... his hips began to work back and forth. He felt a gathering surge inside and stopped before he wasted anything. He could barely hold it in. Now where was that woman who'd looked so disappointed yesterday... ?

He turned around and saw the servant, groveling and looking at him hungrily. He cringed at Bryon's feet but his eyes never left his member.

"What is it?"

The no-man shook his head in non-comprehension. He got up but his head stayed down. With signs he showed Bryon his intense frustration. He tugged at his confining gourd, rubbed his red and swollen balls, then bent over and presented a well-lubricated and needy hole to the newcomer.

Bryon didn't move. What does this guy want? he thought. Do I really want to give him that? I don't want to waste ALL that... it's worth a year's wages after all. Or at least one child.

The no-man started weeping, again clutching his groin and moaning. He slid a finger inside his own anus and rubbed. Then he looked at Bryon again, brown eyes beseeching.

He's miserable, thought Bryon. That's probably the only release they're allowed, if they can persuade someone else to do it. His erection was throbbing hard now, in spite of himself. It had been a whole night, perhaps more, since his last release and he was getting ready to stick it in a tree if nothing better came along. Hadn't he almost released in his own hand, just a moment ago? The rosy cleft between the other male's cheeks was starting to look a lot more appealing.

"I don't care if you can't understand me," he began. The no-man cringed and he softened his voice. "I can see you get a lot of rough treatment. Fine. I'll give you what you want. But I want it to be good for you." He stroked his shaft, again feeling how good it was to touch it. Then he spied some of the plant that he knew had a slippery sap, and picked some. He rubbed it all over his shaft and reached out to the no-man.

The no-man was at Bryon's feet in an instant, kissing them. Then he allowed himself to be helped up. He started caressing his benefactor, obviously starving for affection and begging for release.

Bryon felt himself growing even more aroused from his partner's attentions, and led him off into a private glade nearby. His loins were aching already. He knew the women and most of the men were especially unkind to this one. He'd never seen him outside the gourd and it was plain that none of them were ever allowed normal penetration or even ejaculation. He rubbed even more sap on his stone-hard erection and gently set himself against the no-man's rear. He was a little startled when the no-man shoved back, hard, until all of his partner's invading organ was inside himself. Bryon thrust, hearing moans of relief and pleasure coming from the other's throat. It felt very nice inside there, almost as slick as a woman but tighter and more welcoming than he had ever imagined. He thrust slow and hard and tried his best to make sure his partner got off as well. His recent experience inside the Device had softened his heart toward someone in that much need.

The no-man moaned louder, writhing, rubbing himself and shaking his gourd. He loved the way the stranger's shaft hit his prostate perfectly every time, and he could already feel semen oozing from his denied member. The gourd felt as if it might split open at any moment. And if he could only get free, he was sure he could climax. But as it was, his only relief came when someone chose to take pity on him like this. The added lubrication was helping matters... this stranger was so kind! But there, he was speeding up, and there, he was spurting inside. It would soon be over. The no-man's trapped genitals ached fiercely from trying to become erect, but he felt a greater relief than he'd had in a while. He felt the semen slowly oozing its way out of the gourd. He sighed, knowing the stranger would be pulling out soon.

Can I do it again? thought Bryon. That poor guy really needs it. And I think he was nearly there. Maybe... He clasped the other male close to him and kissed his shoulder. Really, it wasn't much different than kissing a woman. And the no-man's unscarred side was the color of new-baked bread, and very smooth. He rubbed against his smooth buttocks and felt the blood rushing back into his recently expended member. Slowly he erected again and thrust back into his welcoming depths. Everything was much slicker now and progress was even easier.

Bless him! Bless him! The no-man could have wept in gratitude. Just as he felt his lover diminish and begin to slip away, then the shaft within him swelled again and the steady massage resumed. This time the stroking was slow and gentle, and there was a hand reaching around front to caress and fondle his aching testes. He felt a surge within himself, a spasm from his trapped member, and a burning sensation from inside as his body fought to empty itself. A throb, a shudder, and he felt his pulsing burst for the first time in months. He filled his gourd and felt it run down his legs. The stranger spasmed hard and thrust a few more times before he withdrew. The no-man rolled over onto the moss and lay there in blissful stillness for a time, listening to his partner's quiet breathing. A few more minutes and then the stranger was gone. He decided to make something for his new friend, something that could show his appreciation without the use of words. Bless him. Bless him.

Bryon didn't feel a bit guilty about what he'd done. Instead, it had been an unexpected pleasure. He decided to offer himself to at least one no-man a day for the same purpose. It wasn't right how they were being treated. To be forbidden sex was one thing, but to be forbidden orgasm too? That was monstrous. His feelings were strong on the subject, having so recently been put through the same torture. With his production capacity, he'd be more than able to cover as many women as needed, and still bring a little relief to the forgotten members of the tribe as well. He knew he'd be found soon and brought back to his life of luxury, but he meant to do what good he could in the time left. Perhaps now he had somewhere else to go when his prime production years were up. Living in the jungle among this group could be a lot more interesting than being stuck in some city.

I could be their king, he thought. And then some changes would happen. There are medical procedures that could render all defectives infertile and then the women would lose their slaves - there are all kinds of things I could show these people. And there are men here! Whole men, who can breed and augment our genetic reserves. Maybe a few of them can be asked to help.

He was still dreaming of these things when the next no-man hunted him up to ask for his favor.

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