Copyright (c) 2014,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Monday, January 12, 2015

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.


A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: carriann.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com



story_codes: MMMm/g(7), oral, vag, anal, porn

story_intro: When Carrianne comes home rom school every day, she still has so many important chores to keep her busy. By the time she is done with several residents of the apartment building where she lives, the seven year-old is always in need of a bath.


story_language: English




Carrianne's Chores

Written by madvlad


	Where the school bus stopped to disgorge students wasn't in the best of neighborhoods. It wasn't the slums, but the area had gone to seed - just not far enough to lower the property values enough for the latest onslaught of urban gentrification.

	As the children scattered their separate ways, one girl walked to a four-story, soiled red brick building where she lived with her mother. She was thin, dressed in typical thrift store attire - a pink long sleeved t-shirt with the collar slightly stretched and purple pants with a few unraveling threads on the cuffs. Her sneakers, which had been new two owners ago, had a film of gray with patches of the original pink and silver peeking through the grime. 

	She climbed the steps, her blonde hair tugged at the breeze. As usual, it was somewhat messy as she did her best every morning to brush the tangles out, but was usually short of a complete job because she lacked the patience and didn't like how those knots that formed there in her sleep painfully pulled at her scalp when she tried to brush through them. 

	Asking her mother help was out of the question. Her mother worked as a waitress in a bar and was asleep when the girl's alarm clock sounded in the morning. The girl knew how to make her own breakfast (cold cereal - sometimes with milk) and get herself to the bus stop on time. That might sound mature for a seven year-old, but life had already taught her plenty of lessons - coldly and quickly. One of them was not to wake her mother - or any "friend" who might have come home with her from the night before.

	As she reached for the front door of the building, it opened out, allowing a tall black man with a shaven head to exit. He paused on the top step to hold the door open for the girl.

	"Hello, Mr. Wheldon," she said with a smile as she easily passed under his arm.

	"Hello - right back at you, Carrianne," he replied. "How was your day?"

	"Okay," she said, noticing his lunch box. "I thought you didn't have to work on Wednesdays."

	"Not usually, but they're short on second shift and I'm not about to pass up a chance at some overtime. Got to save up if I'm ever going to get out of this neighborhood."

	Carrianne nodded and stepped into the lobby. Mr. Wheldon was always talking about working extra and studying his text books so he could leave the neighborhood and move up in the world. Carrianne didn't see what was wrong with where she lived. No, it wasn't as fancy as all of those places she saw on TV, but it was the only home she had even known. 

	Mama had told her they had moved here when Carrianne was two, but Carrianne couldn't remember that far back. The only thing she knew about the other place was the small, circular scar she had on her right calf. It came from a cigarette her daddy had been smoking. That was the only time that Mama ever mentioned Carrianne's daddy, who hadn't moved here with them. Carrianne never asked about him - another life lesson - as he was filed under 'Things We Don't Ever Talk About, You Hear?'

	Reaching into her shirt, Carrianne pulled out a lanyard she wore around her neck. On a ring at the end were three keys - one large one and two smaller ones. Selecting one of the smaller ones, Carrianne opened the mailbox for her apartment from the row of narrow metal doors set into a wall. Then she climbed one flight of stairs and used the largest of the three keys to let herself into the apartment. 

	After placing the mail on the kitchen table, Carrianne softly walked to her mother's bedroom door. It was open and room was empty, carrying the scent of stale cigarette smoke and something cloyingly sweet that the girl was never sure of. 

	Next, Carrianne went to her bedroom, thumping her Hannah Montana backpack ($2 at the bargain table a few years after Ms. Cyrus departed the Disney Channel) on the floor. As the bag fell, she noticed a surprise from Mama on the bed - a brand new shoe box! Carrianne's shoes never came with a box because Mama said that little girls didn't need brand new shoes 'cause they'd just outgrow them. But Mama needed new shoes because she was a lady and it was important to look her best at work.

	Carrianne didn't understand the reasoning, but knew the answer was in the same mental filing cabinet as her daddy's history, this time one drawer down marked 'Things You'd Better Not Ask If You Know What's Good for You.' And Carrianne had a pretty good handle on that category, although she sometimes forgot and opened that drawer. 

	Carrianne loved shoe boxes because she could use them to keep her treasures in them. When Mama was mad at her or just being forgetful, she tossed the boxes room her new footwear out. But every once in a while she bestowed the cardboard upon her grateful daughter. 

	Carrianne kept her treasure boxes under the bed - the best place to keep them secure in case a robber broke in when no one was home. Her treasures were more fantastic than gold - they were molded plastic. She had her My Little Pony stuff along with an assortment of Littlest Pet Shop, Squinkies, Zoobles, and other odds and ends no taller than four inches high. When Mama was in an extra good mood, Carrianne would add a toy from a genuine Happy Meal. 

	If Carrianne's mother ever wondered about how her daughter's collection had grown, she never gave it much thought as she considered it cheap trash that kept the girl entertained and out of her hair. Kids were always leaving things out and if her kid had become a scavenger, what did she care?

	Carrianne went back to the kitchen to look for a note her Mama might have left. She rarely did and when it happened, they were usually short, like "Back at 5". That was okay with Carrianne since she was still learning how to read. She was in the Green Group in reading class, which was where the regular kids were. The really smart ones were in Blue. Carrianne didn't think she'd ever be there, but was glad she wasn't in the Yellow Group because they weren't very smart at all.

	There was no note. Mama might not be back at all before she went to work, but that was okay because Carrianne could make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner. And once her Mama was at work, Carrianne was always home alone. But Mama let her keep the kitchen light on so that Carrianne could see it from her bedroom and not be scared of the dark. 

	And when there was something really bad - like the time she had a tummy ache or when she sometimes got scared by something - she could go to Miss Jones' apartment next door. Miss Jones had skin like Mr. Wheldon and was quite pretty in Carrianne's opinion. Once, she had suggested to Mr. Wheldon that he should ask Miss Jones to marry him, but he only shook his head and said that Miss Jones didn't roll that way. Carrianne wasn't sure what rolling had to do with getting married, let alone rolling a certain way.

	Standing alone in the kitchen, Carrianne was thinking about coloring the new shoebox in her bedroom with her crayons to make it a special castle for her ponies. But she had chores to do and Mama would take the box away if Carrianne hadn't done her chores.

	First, Carrianne had to help Mama pay the rent. To do that, she returned to the first floor and went to Mr. Schultz' office. Mr. Schultz was the building superintendent and also collected the rent. But he and Mama had found a way for Carrianne to take of the rent so Mama wouldn't have to spend her hard-earned money on it.

	After knocking on the door and entering, she saw Mr. Schultz nod. So she closed and locked the door so they wouldn't be disturbed while she was paying the rent. 

	Ken Schultz swiveled his office chair and unzipped his fly. Just seeing the little girl obediently go to her knees in front of him always gave him a raging hard-on. While he enjoyed his weekends away from this dump, he did enjoy the daily payments he received from Carrianne from Monday through Friday.

	It had taken a few times for Carrianne to do him just that way he liked. Taking him with both hands, she held his dick while she pushed her mouth onto the head. The girl's cheeks hollowed as she pulled on the spongy glans with as much vacuum as she could muster. With the tip of her tongue, she pushed at the slit on the end of it. Slowly, she moved her hands back and forth along the length until the man put his hand on her head.

	At that signal, Carrianne stopped her hands at the base of his member and leaned forward. Ken's meat slid through the seven year-old's tightly gripping lips, feeling the small tongue now pressing against the underside. With a skill that belied her age, Carrianne took most of him in her mouth until he was at the back. The girl had learned to control her gag reflex over time and could now take more of a man's length.

	The second grader bobbed her head, her mouth creating a firm ring of pressure as it moved up and down Ken's turgid prick. The presence of the flesh in her mouth made her create more saliva, giving Ken an intimate bath inside the child's mouth. This also made Carrianne have to swallow a lot and the loud gulping noises, along with the slobbery foaming sounds of her lips against Ken's cock enhanced his experience. It made the girl seem more sluttish.

	"Faster," he grunted and felt Carrianne immediately respond. 

	Her swift movements made it seem as if she was desperately hungry for his cock which suited Ken's fantasies quite well. But now it was feeding time and he unloaded his balls into the seven year-old's mouth. Carrianne swallowed even more quickly, careful to send everything into her belly and not create a mess on the carpet.

	Watching and listening to the child eating his cum, Ken sighed. Damn, but she was a good little cocksucker. One of these days he was going to teach her how to take him in her throat. 

	Had they grouped kids into Blue, Green, and Yellow groups for blowjobs (something the school counselor privately dreamed of), Carrianne would have easily made Blue.

	Ken tucked his wilted penis back in his pants and returned to the paperwork on his desk. He never made any small talk or otherwise pretended he was the least bit interested in the little girl except for what she could do with her mouth when it was full. Silently, Carrianne unlocked the door and left his office.

	Carrianne returned to the mailboxes and pulled her lanyard out again. This time she used the other small key to open a different door and collected the contents inside. Walking down the hall, she knocked on the door of Apartment 1E. It took longer than most people for the door to open, but Carrianne was used to that with Mr. Pollard.

	Earl Pollard wheeled himself to the door, skillfully maneuvering the chair so that he could open the door from the side. A job site accident eight years earlier had severely injured his legs and pelvis. While he was not paralyzed, walking - even with crutches, was very painful and left him more vulnerable to falling so he used crutches as little as possible. 

	By the time his lawyers had taken their cut from a lengthy lawsuit, Earl was getting very little in his annuity payment and disability pay wasn't that great. Still, he had a place where he could get around easily enough in a wheelchair. He was now in his late fifties, divorced (two years before the accident) with his kids grown and living out of state. Both of them had asked about him moving closer to one of them, but Ear liked his independence, however limited it might be. 

	Besides, he loved getting his mail delivered.

	"Come in, come in," he said, wheeling backward and rolling toward the kitchen table, followed by Carrianne who shut the door behind her. "Let's see what we have today."

	Earl leafed through the mail, discarding most of it as junk as he separated it into two piles before retuning his attention to his young visitor.

	"Not much to write home about today," he summarized. "But not that it's your fault. Take them down, now."

	He didn't need to give her any more detail as Carrianne knew the routine. Hooking her thumbs inside the elastic waistband of her pants, she pulled them down to her knees where they fell to the floor. The man's gaze was already fixed on her panties, which she sent down to join her pants.

	Angling his wheelchair just so, Earl reached out the soft V of hairless flesh between the child's thighs, stroking the small mound. Carrianne made no effort to push his hand away, standing compliantly while she was molested.

	Grunting, Earl pulled his cock out. It was still mostly flaccid, but he tugged at it while continuing to fondle the second grader. It took a while for his member to respond, but when it began to swell, Earl licked two fingers and returned them to Carrianne's snatch. Now he rubbed more vigorously, using his index finger in the cleft. Carrianne shivered at the increased intensity as her grade school twat was manipulated. She felt the reaction in her groin and beneath her shirt.

	Detecting a bit of lubrication escaping the child's cunny, Earl smiled at the girl.

	"Are your nipples hard?" he asked.

	"Uh huh."

	"Show me."

	Carrianne lifted her shirt, displaying the stiff little points on her otherwise featureless chest. The seven year-old's sexual response - her nipples and her dripping cunt - excited Earl. To see and feel such a little, immature body behaving in the manner of a woman was intoxicating and finally brought him to full erection. 

	Angling his index finger upward, he eased it into the little girl. Carrianne hummed in a flat note for a minute while she was being entered. Looking down, she could see her puffy labia separating and felt his progress as the digit sank into her vagina.

	Earl had his finger all the way into the kiddy cunt and now twisted it, drawing another hum from Carrianne - this time louder. Keeping his finger twisting, he began to fuck the child, seeing her cunny juices gleaming on his finger. The motions generated small snicking sounds as he sped up, feeling the walls of Carrianne's pussy clasping his finger as he stimulated her. He alternated his motion, grinding the girl's steamy twat in certain areas. 

	Carrianne groaned loudly, her eyes half closed. Seeing the look of sexual bliss on her face while the slick interior her bald little snatch was getting a thorough rubdown from his thick, calloused finger sent Earl's wad launching from his cock. He was unmindful of it as it landed on his pant leg, concentrating on bringing the little girl off. 

	That was the best part - making the seven year-old cum on his finger, her smooth body twisting while she made the cutest little sounds. When Earl had first started playing with Carrianne, he had been very slow and careful. But eventually, he found that she had no hymen he had to worry about breaking and so he had increased the depth of their activities. The girl wasn't overtly sexual with him, but obviously someone had been there before him. He had no idea who and when, although he wondered about the father who was no longer in the picture.

	Carrianne was breathing hard when Earl diddled her to orgasm. She propped herself up with one hand on the table as her knees went weak, but she managed to stay upright. When her climax passed, Earl pulled his finger from her quim and offered it to her. He liked to see her suck her own juices before he gathered more from her slit and had some for himself.

	Favoring Earl with a shy smile of thanks for her wet little treat, Carrianne pulled her clothing back into place. Earl got one last glimpse of the child's cunny before it disappeared behind the thin veil of cotton with tiny hearts faded from many washings. 

	Lately, he had been seriously contemplating getting Carrianne in his lap to see if he could fit his cock into her luscious little hole. The problem was whether or not he could get - and stay - hard enough to get the job done. But he was saving to get some of those little blue pills from an on-line pharmacy in Canada and hoped it wouldn't be long before he had the second grader groaning and twisting on his prick as he shot inside her.

	Carrianne could feel her panties sticking to her crotch as she exited Mr. Pollard's apartment. She walked back to the stairs, taking them instead of the building's sole, slow elevator. The stairs went around in a square with four turns needed before reaching the next level. When she was almost to the second floor, she heard someone calling her name. Gazing up to the top, she saw a boy leaning over the railing of the fourth floor landing. She waved and continued, ignoring her floor and proceeding all the way up.

	Bobby was a husky thirteen year-old who had befriended Carrianne. His real name was Roberto, which his mother used, but he let her call him Bobby. Since she had no older siblings to protect her, Carrianne had become the target of some neighborhood bullies. But once Bobby had stepped in, her bullying troubles had vanished. She was very grateful and flattered that an older boy would help her like that. And he only had one small thing he wanted in return.

	"Did Old Man Pollard make you cum?" he asked as she approached him.

	Carrianne nodded. Mr. Pollard always made her cum. And she wished Bobby wouldn't call him 'Old Man Pollard' - the way he said it sounded mean and Mr. Pollard was a nice man. But Bobby was a tough kid and maybe this was just how tough kids talked.

	Bobby opened a utility door in the hall, showing a small, closet-sized space largely filled with the floor's water piping and shut-off valves. Also stashed in there were odds and ends like light bulbs and a step stool so Mr. Schultz could do minor work up here without having to bring everything with him. The door was supposed to be locked, but the lock was broken. Since nothing had gone missing, the building super hadn't bothered to fix it yet.

	Bobby dragged the step stool to the railing so Carrianne could get up and bend over slightly. She did just that and lowered her pants and panties once more, feeling Bobby's fingers as they explored her genitals while he stood behind her. Regardless of how many times they had done this, the young teen was always fascinated by the contours of the little girl's female parts and, thanks to Mr. Pollard, she was always ready on the inside.

	Sighing as he pushed his stiff prick into her little snatch. She was always quite snug around him, warm and juicy as she took his entire cock inside. Holding her by the hips, Bobby proceeded to fuck the seven year-old in quick, jackhammer-like strokes.

	Bobby had done it with two other neighborhood girls - both Latinas who liked to hang out with the bad boys in another building's empty apartment. One had been his age and one had been seventeen. Both had been great and they had also had some nice tits - especially the older one. 

	But Carrianne was special with her white skin and blonde hair - not like some puta from the 'hood. And her luscious little pussy was so incredibly smooth on the outside and tight where it counted - he was never sure how that petite thing could stretch enough to take a cock. And she made the sweetest little sounds while he was filling her cunny with meat - not the practiced ones the other girls did when they were being shared by all the guys. Also, he couldn't help but to feel a little protective of her, regardless of how else he used her.

	From the bottom floor, Bobby could hear the echoing footsteps of people coming in. Looking over Carrianne's shoulder, he saw they were residents of the second and third floors so he continued copulating with the child without fear of being caught. From their vantage point from below, the other people could only see Carrianne's blonde head peering over the railing and they waved, unknowing of the thirteen year-old's hard meat that was driving in and out of the second grader's diminutive cuntlet.

	Bobby and Carrianne had been discovered once. It was Mr. Crawford, a burly guy who lived on the fourth floor. Bobby had been so engrossed with Carrianne's cunt that he had failed to notice the sound of a closing apartment door from down the hall. As Mr. Crawford approached, Bobby froze, his dick beginning to wilt inside the girl. The man's eyes had darted all over the pair and there was no way he could have not registered Carrianne being bared below the waist with Bobby's groin pressed against her backside.

	But the man had not broken stride, only giving Bobby a wink and a grin as he passed on his way toward the elevator. Mr. Crawford was one cool dude, the boy thought, for not having stopped a guy from getting a piece of pussy.

	And Bobby was getting another fine piece right now, making Carrianne's buttocks jiggle as he sawed in and out of her. At last, she got the better of him and he came, pressing as deep into her as he could go while he pumped her tiny womb full of his adolescent seed. Remaining there for another minute, he slid his fingers through Carrianne's yellow locks. Neither of them spoke then or after Bobby pulled out, sending a small stream of liquid trickling down in the inside of each of the girl's legs. 

	Bobby zipped up and helped Carrie get her undies and pants back up before she stepped off the stool. After he returned it to the closet, she gave him a hug, the side of her face pressed against his abdomen as she relished the contact. Embarrassed as always when she did this, he mumbled something before easing out of her grip. Then he gave her a wave and a smile as he reached the elevator. She rarely took the elevator, finding the slight rattling of it too scary for her taste.

	After the elevator doors closed, Carrianne turned and walked away not from the elevator but to Apartment 4G to see if there were any chores that needed her attention there. Mr. Crawford liked to take pictures of Carrianne when she had all of her clothes off - and often tied up in some manner. And when he was done, he would give her a toy. He had asked her what kind of toys she liked and always had some colorful piece of plastic she would happily add to her treasure boxes. Sometimes, he did other stuff to her while he was taking pictures and would give her another toy.

	Lanny Crawford peeked down the hall to make sure now one was watching when he let Carrianne in. He didn't know how that Hispanic kid had managed to talk her into letting him get in her pants, but he was glad to find a little girl with some sexual experience. 

	Since Mr. Crawford was home, Carrianne knew what to do. In the kitchen, she stripped off all of her clothing instead of simply lowering her pants like she did for Mr. Pollard and Bobby.

	Today, Lanny had a pair of handcuffs that Carrianne had worn on several occasions. The last time he had used cuffs, he had two pairs and had one on each wrist, securing the girl to one of the apartment's radiators (turned off) with her arms spread. Her other costume accessories for the photo shoot had been a gag in her mouth and a small vibrator in her little hairless cunt which made her squirm and leak her juices onto the floor.  

	This afternoon, Carrianne had her hands cuffed behind her as Lanny placed her face down on the kitchen table with her legs spread. A video camera was on as the man pulled her ass cheeks apart and liberally smeared some Vaseline between them. As he poked some into her sphincter, Carrianne knew what he was going to do to her. She always wobbled when she walked right afterward when he did that.

	The little girl's greased anus easily surrendered to Lanny's cock and he worked it nearly to the hilt. Several times on the way in, he stopped to take some pictures from above, capturing images of the handcuffed little blonde with a thick cock spreading her buttocks and entering her meager young body. 

	Setting the camera down, Lanny enjoyed a leisurely session of sodomy, stretching Carrianne's rectum and enjoying the caress of a seven year-old's warm, snug ass on his prick. Carrianne stared blankly at the wall as the man's hardness stroked inside her straining little bottom. He always started to breath more rapidly and she could tell when the last part was about to happen.

	"Oh, yessssss!" Lanny hissed as he came, shooting wads of jism deep into the child's body.

	After he had pulled out, he took more pictures of Carrianne's stretched asshole as it allowed his semen to escape and puddle under the swell of her crotch. The kid had no idea how hot she was, Lanny noted as he took more pictures. Seeing those tiny hairless cunny lips coated in semen from her own ass-fucking was priceless - although he'd be asking a good price for the photos.

	Lanny cleaned his dick and then wiped the girl down before removing the handcuffs. As Carrianne got dressed, he went to his bedroom and quickly reviewed his photos. The video he could watch later. When he returned, he stifled a laugh as he saw Carrianne carefully walking around. He knew her ass must feel odd after its reaming and she was trying to adjust.

	Carrianne was delighted with the My Little Pony she received from Mr. Crawford. It had a mane of hair - not solid plastic and it even came with a small brush and a mirror! Then he gave her something else - a book full of stickers - just the thing she could use to decorate her new treasure box and make it a pretty castle. She thanked the nice man and left, waddling slightly.

	She had made it back to the second floor when she saw a black woman coming up the stairs from the first floor. The woman wore sweat pants and a tank top that displayed her well-toned arms.

	"Hi, Miss Jones!" Carrianne piped. 

	"Hey, Goldilocks," the woman replied, ruffling Carrianne's hair as she passed.

	As she placed the key in the door, Carrianne suddenly remembered something from last week. She had woken late at night from a nightmare - something even the kitchen light couldn't drive away. Since Mama wasn't home, she used the phone to call next door and nearly cried with relief when Miss Jones answered. Miss Jones soothed the girl and told her that she could come over.

	When Carrianne followed Miss Jones to her bedroom, she saw another woman in bed. When she asked Miss Jones if she and her friend were having a sleepover, they had laughed and said yes. Miss Jones' friend seemed like a nice lady too and said they just hadn't gotten around to the sleeping part. Carrianne understood that - if one of her friends was sleeping over (not that Mama would allow that), she knew they would have been talking and maybe playing with their toys in bed.

	After Carrianne snuggled under the covers, she pressed her body against Miss Jones who held her and stroked her hair and back with a gentle, soothing hand. Just as Carrianne was about to doze, she heard Miss Jones' friend ask something about Carrianne that the girl didn't understand.
Miss Jones had answered, saying that one of these days she was going to have some of Carrianne's "sweet, sweet sugar."

	"Miss Jones?" Carrianne asked as she pushed the apartment door open. "Do you want some sugar now?"

	Lois Jones spun around, surprised, and looked at the little girl who was standing invitingly in her apartment doorway.

	"What?" the woman asked.

	"Last week, you told your friend you were going to get some of my sugar. Mama has a whole box of sugar in here if you want some."

	That was so innocently adorable - so much that Lois was tempted to strip the girl down and eat her silly right there in the kitchen. Shaking her head to clear the image, she declined.

	"Not right now, but I'll take a rain check."

	Carrianne shrugged and went inside. She ran to her room and put her presents from Mr. Crawford on the bed. She wanted to play but doing her chores always made her sticky and Mama didn't like her leaving messes. After undressing, she was careful to put her soiled clothing in the laundry hamper. 

	Like the other residents, Mama did the laundry in the building's basement where there were several washers and dryers. A few months ago, Carrianne had gone exploring the basement as part of an adventure involving princesses and fairies (with some ponies added for good measure). Mr. Schultz had found her and had told her she was not supposed to be playing in the basement. Fortunately, Mr. Schultz was a nice man and let Carrianne pay him some extra rent so she wouldn't get in trouble.

	Carrianne filled the tub, taking the opportunity to take the plastic cover from the sticker book and admire the colorful collection until the tub nearly overflowed. Carrianne gulped, thankful that Mama wasn't here to see that. As it was Carrianne had to drain some out and Mama would have been mad at the water she was wasting. When the level was right, Carrianne plopped into the tub, letting the water cleans her while she daydreamed about ponies and castles. 

	Her mother's voice called her name and Carrianne shouted back that she was in the bath. She hadn't heard her return and it was best not to keep Mama waiting, so the girl got out and hurriedly dried herself before realizing her pajamas were in her bedroom. Sometimes Mama didn't like it when Carrianne scooted about buck naked, so the girl wrapped a towel around her.

	Walking to the living room to see what Mama wanted, Carrianne saw a strange man sitting next to her on the couch. Her mother spoke to her in a particularly sweet tone she only used at certain times.

	"Carrianne, darling, this is, uh, John. We met last night and he wanted to meet you."

	Seeing how the man was staring at her, the little girl understood that her chores for the day were not quite over and she let the towel fall to the floor. 

	

madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm























This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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