From: ladd@cs.unc.edu (Brian C.  Ladd)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: MNA: Kidnapping (mf nc mc) 01/01
[BEGIN] From: an46788@anon.penet.fi (Mountain Man)



   A Scene with Leslie Which Starts With a Kidnapping and Ends with a Kid
Napping

   I want to relate a scene that I've enacted several times with my slave
Leslie.  I'm into hypnotic control, and Leslie is into more 'traditional'
bondage - restraints, leather, whipping.  Her fantasies involve struggling
against a dominant figure who overpowers her.  Some of my fantasies involve
breaking down a woman's control and dominating her against her will
(although many of my fantasies involve a very pliant, willing woman).

   Since her fantasies involve physical restraint and physical struggle
(and mine don't) and mine involve mental control in which the woman becomes
fully compliant (and hers don't), we usually have separate fantasy session
- sometimes its 'her' night, sometimes 'mine'.  The fantasy that I'm going
to describe is one that I've developed to please us both.  It contains both
physical restraint and struggle and hypnotic domination.  In the several
times that we've played this scene out, we've both found it exciting and
satisfying.

   I'll present a composite scenario, not identical to any one scene we've
created, but containing elements from several.  I've 'fictionalized' the
account - relating the scene as if it were real; mostly the account is
true-to-scene as we've enacted them.

   I'd also like to extend an offer.  Leslie and I (for a variety of
reasons, partly geographic, partly the directions our lives have taken)
haven't had an opportunity to play lately.  Consequently, I'd like to find
a new slave to train.  If you're a woman who finds this depiction exciting
(particularly if you're in the Westchester Co/Rockland Co/NYC/Fairfield
Co/Litchfield Co area), please feel free to drop me a line.

   Hope you enjoy!

   Mountain Man

   ----------------------------------------------------------------

   The woman was perfect for my purposes.  Dark, lovely, with the shy and
hesitant manner that tokens a suggestible woman.  Perhaps most important,
she lived alone in an isolated rural area - her nearest neighbor was almost
a quarter of a mile away.

   I'd been watching her for several days - learning her ways, becoming
familiar with her habits.  I knew that she always went to bed exactly at 11
and that if she had visitors, they always arrived before 9.  I waited for
an evening when she was home alone.  When 10 o'clock arrived, I knew that
we wouldn't be disturbed by any evening callers.

   I watched though the windows of her living room as she moved about the
house.  When I saw her go into the bedroom, I quietly eased in through the
front door.  Softly and silently I approached her from behind and, with a
sudden motion, pounced, the pad ready in my hand.  I clamped it quickly and
accurately over her mouth and nose.  The chloroform worked swiftly; she
struggled for a few moments and then collapsed limply into my arms.  I
lowered her to the floor and moved to the window, motioning to my
assistants.

   With the ease of a job performed many times, my assistants loaded her
into the waiting van.  I drove down the gravel drive and into the country
road while they tied her hands, applied another dose of chloroform and then
gagged and blindfolded her.  As the unconscious woman was being attended
to, I turned onto the highway, and a few miles later, exited onto a
secondary road.  Several more miles and turns brought us to my bungalow.

   I drove the van into the garage, and after closing the door, my
assistants unloaded the woman, one carrying her feet, one her hands.  She
was still limply unconscious, as they carted her down into my sound-proofed
basement training-room.  I had them hold her upright as I fastened
handcuffs to each of her wrists.  With her hands bound, she dangled loosely
from where the manacles attached to the ceiling.  I placed a thick leather
collar around her neck, and fastened the ring in the collar to an eyebolt
in the wall.  Finally, I fitted each of her ankles into a shackle bolted to
the floor, her feet spread slightly more than shoulder width.

   With the woman now completely immobilized, I was almost ready to awaken
her and begin her training.  I donned my black mask, a cloth that
completely covers my head leaving only small eyeholes visible.  This mask
adds to a woman's disorientation and increases her fear - both of which
enhance the training process.  Once the mask was in place, I removed her
gag, then placed a vial of smelling salts beneath her nostrils.  The woman
jerked and, by the tension in her body, I could tell that she was awake and
becoming aware of her predicament.

   She struggled for a few moments, testing the restraints at ankles,
wrists, and neck.  While she was struggling, I reached behind her head and
deftly removed her blindfold.  When she saw me - totally masked and clothed
in black - she gasped and then let out a small scream.  She quickly
regained a small measure of self-control and with a look of abject fear on
her face said, "Who are you?  Why am I here?"

   "I'm called the Master.  I specialize in supplying women such as
yourself to a very exclusive clientele.  They enjoy the use of women that
have been through a very special training program that I have devised."

   "You'll never get away with this," she spat.  Her face was twisted in
fear and anger, her body trembling.

   "Oh, on the contrary, my dear.  I've trained over 150 women just like
you, and I've yet to fail with a single one.  My training is completely
irresistible.  It will turn you into the perfect sex slave for the men I
supply, and you're completely powerless to resist it."

   As I spoke, I touched a finger to her cheek and gently caressed her
face. Her trembling increased, and a hunted look, the look that one often
sees in caged animals, was in her eyes.  She continued to struggle, but was
bound tightly to the wall, ceiling, and floor.

   "You're a most beautiful woman, and will be most pleasing to my clients.
You're very responsive and suggestible - perfect for my purposes." As I
continued to talk, I ran my hand downward from her face, briefly caressing
the the smooth skin of a shoulder, then lower, brushing the outside of her
breast, coming to rest in the small of her back.  I pulled her body toward
me, pressing against her, as I rubbed her breasts and stomach with my other
hand.

   She was heaving and panting with fear.  Her full breasts straining
against the thin fabric, her enticing cleavage enhanced by the low cut of
her dress.  She tried to lunge forward, snapping her teeth, but I was
carefully to stay several inches from her mouth.  I chuckled at the
attempt, and noted a look of despair, as two small tears pooled at the
corners of her eyes and then trickled down her face.

   "You're completely in my power, my dear, and soon will be unable to
resist me in any way."

   "Never," she hissed.  "You can't do this.  You'll never get away with
it. I'll never do what you want."

   "Ah, but you will.  You're already doing exactly as expected and exactly
as I wish.  Your fear and your anger will soon exhaust you and as they do,
you'll become more and more responsive to my control.  You'll find that as
you tire, it becomes harder and harder to resist me.  More and more you'll
find yourself responding to my voice, responding to my suggestions,
becoming unable to resist, completely unable to resist."

   As I intoned in a gentle, soothing, monotonous voice, I continued to
softly caress her body.  She was struggling wildly, tugging in vain against
her bonds.

   An important part of the early stages of my training involves clearly
establishing in a woman's mind her powerlessness and my ability to make use
of her body, and by association her inner self, in any way that I choose. I
ran a hand upward to her face, and fondled her cheek.  After a time, I
moved a finger to her lips and began stroking.  She lunged at my finger
repeatedly, but each time I successfully evaded her, and immediately
returned to my caresses.  After several unsuccessful attempts, she
whimpered, and her body slumped against the restraints.

   "You're seeing now how useless it is to resist.  You're discovering that
I'm completely in control.  You find that you're powerless, completely
powerless.  Your struggles are completely ineffective; I have complete
control over your body, complete control over your body."

   With this, I moved my hand downward and, slipping beneath the neck of
her dress, began to caress her breasts.  I lightly flicked each of her
nipples and felt them harden against my fingers.

   "You see how your body responds to me, responds to my deep and complete
control, deep and complete control.  Deep ...  and complete."

   A certain type of woman responds to abuse, to violence against her, by
marshaling her resources, by standing tough and firm.  Another sort of
woman becomes passive, seeking mental escape from a harsh scenario.  This
sort becomes highly receptive to anyone who will tell her what to do,
particularly if she perceives an escape, even if only into fantasy.  With
this sort of woman, intensifying the threat and terror of a situation
forces her into a state of hyper-suggestibility.

   With these thoughts firmly in mind, I picked up a knife from a nearby
table and, with a sudden motion, placed the blade against the tip of her
nose.  Her eyes filled with horror as they focused on the long, gleaming
blade.  I moved my face close to hers and whispered, "Complete control, my
dear, complete control."

   Very carefully I slipped the knife blade beneath the hem of her dress,
and laid the cold steel against her bare thigh.  Her body was trembling
violently as I slid the blade over her smooth skin, inserted the point
beneath her silken panties and then, in an instant, sliced though the
fabric.  I repeated the motions, cutting the other leg of her panties, and
the now-ruined garment dropped to the floor.

   I slid my other hand under her dress, and rubbed her now-naked mound. 
She twisted and writhed, but I maintained contact, and after a brief time
slid a finger into her moist passage.  As I did, she stiffened, and sobs
began to wrack her body.  I slowly stroked in and out of her, matching the
rhythm to the slow and measured cadence of my voice.

   "You're so helpless ...  so helpless ...  so unable to resist ... 
completely powerless to resist ...  powerless to resist my deep control ...
deep control ...  deep control."

   With each slow and monotonous intonation of the word "deep", I slid my
finger fully inside her.  Gradually, I felt the tensing and twisting of her
body slackening.  I knew that the extreme violation that she was
experiencing was driving her into shock and that this would heighten her
passivity and docility.

   "You feel how your resistance tires you.  So very, very tired. 
Resistance tires you.  More and more tired and heavy.  The more that you
struggle, the more tired you become.  Your body is so tired and heavy,
tired and heavy."

   I removed my hands from her body, and as I did, she heaved a sigh of
relief and her body visibly relaxed.

   "Your body is relaxing, feel it relax.  Notice how heavy your arms are.
The effort of holding them up tires them.  The tension tires them.  They
feel so heavy ...  so very, very heavy.  You want to lower them, but
cannot. You cannot lower them, so they must tire and grow heavy, very
heavy. Each moment the weight of your body tugs you down, down.  It's so
hard to hold up your heavy arms.  Your heavy, heavy body is so tired, so
very tired."

   For several minutes I continued my suggestions.  Gradually, her face
took on a slack and vacant appearance.  Her arms hung limply from the
cuffs, and her eyelids began to tremble.

   "Look into my eyes now," I commanded.  She seemed to have lost much of
her volition.  Slowly she turned her dull and lusterless eyes to gaze at
me. As she stared into my eyes, the trembling of her eyelids became more
pronounced, and slowly the lids began to droop.

   "You're so tire and heavy ...  so tired and heavy.  Your legs are tired
and heavy.  Feel how tired they are.  You've been standing for so long ...
your legs are so very weary.  So very, very tired ...  and heavy.  Your
whole body is tired ...  fatigued.  You want to lie down now, don't you?"

   "Yes," she breathed in a barely audible voice.

   "Yes, you want to lie down and sleep.  To let your heavy, tired body
relax and sleep.  You want to lie down more than anything in the world. 
Isn't that right?"

   "Yes."

   "I'm going to let you lie down now and go to sleep.  Deep, deep asleep.
It will feel so wonderful to let your body relax.  To feel free and relaxed
...  free and relaxed ...  relaxed and heavy ...  relaxed and heavy ...  to
be free and sleep ...  deep, heavy sleep."

   Quickly and smoothly I released her, first her ankles, then her neck,
and finally her hands.  Langorously she rubbed her chaffed wrists.  She was
having difficulty staying on her feet and, half-supporting her, I guided
her to the nearby bed.  With a sigh of relief she eased onto the mattress
and I lay down beside her.  I turned her face toward me and gazed into her
eyes.

   "I want to go to sleep."

   "Yes, I know and soon I shall let you sleep deeply."

   "Can't I sleep alone," she asked in a plaintive, little-girl voice.

   "Not just yet, but soon, very soon.  Soon you shall sleep and then I
will leave you to sleep by yourself, deeply and peacefully.  Look into my
eyes now, deep into my eyes and soon you shall sleep.  Feel how very, very
tired you are.  Notice how very heavy your eyelids grow.  More and more
heavy.  As you gaze into my eyes, feel your eyelids closing, closing,
closing.  So heavy, so very heavy."

   By now, her ability to resist was negligible.  Soon her eyelids were
blinking rapidly as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

   "Feel how very, very heavy your eyes are now.  How wonderful it would be
to let them close ...  to drift deep ...  deep asleep ...  feel your eyes
closing now ...  they close tighter and tighter ...  tighter and tighter as
you enter a deep and heavy sleep."

   The trembling of her eyelids became more and more pronounced and then,
within a few moments, her eyes closed completely.  Her features relaxed and
her head slumped loosely on the pillow.

   "You're deeply asleep now, deeply asleep; each moment going deeper and
deeper.  You hear only my voice, only my voice.  Notice how easy it is to
listen to my gentle, soothing voice.  Only my voice.  You find that you
want to hear the sound of my voice, to follow my voice, to listen closely
and carefully to everything I tell you.  Notice how very relaxed and
pleasant you feel right now.  As you listen to my voice and respond to my
voice, you'll find yourself feeling more and more pleasant and relaxed. 
Whenever you respond to my voice, you'll find yourself feeling very, very
good.

   "Now Leslie," (I had learned her name during my surveillance), "I want
you to notice how very heavy your eyelids are.  They are heavy and leaden;
no matter how hard you try, you'll be unable to open them.  They're much to
heavy to open.  I want you to try and open your eyes now."

   With this, I noted her brow furrowing, and her eyelids trembling. 
Clearly, she was attempting to open her eyes, but with no success.  Now
confident that she was firmly under my hypnotic control, I proceeded with
the training regime.

   "You may stop trying now and as you let your heavy eyes relax, you go
even deeper asleep.  Very, very deep now.  Now Leslie, I'm going to give
you a very special phrase.  Whenever you hear this phrase, you will go into
a deep and heavy sleep just like the one you're in now.  When you hear the
phrase, your eyes will become heavy and close.  Whenever I put you to
sleep, you will follow any instructions that I give you.  You will have a
deep desire to respond to all of my suggestions.  The phrase is 'at my
command'.  Only when you hear my voice speak this phrase will you go to
sleep, but whenever you hear me say 'at my command', you will instantly go
into a very deep sleep.  Do you understand, Leslie."

   "Yes," she murmured.

   "Very good, Leslie.  Now, in a few moments I'm going to give you another
signal.  The signal is the phrase 'hot and sexy'.  When you hear me speak
this phrase, you'll find yourself becoming aroused.  You'll find that you
begin to tingle with sexual arousal, that sexual tension begins to build in
your body, becomes very strong.  Whenever you hear me speak this phrase, if
you're asleep as you are now, or if you're awake, you'll find yourself
becoming powerfully aroused.  More and more aroused with each breath.  With
each moment feeling more passionate and sexy.  Do you understand these
instructions, Leslie?"

   "Yes," she said in a whisper.

   "Excellent.  Now Leslie, at this very moment you're feeling hot and
sexy."

   As I spoke the trigger phrase, she gasped and her breathing instantly
became deeper and heavier.  Her body began to move slowly and rhythmically
on the bed.  Her hips were undulating, at first slowly and then gradually
more rapidly.  Her breathing became increasingly rapid and shallow, her
chest heaving.  After a time, she began to run the tip of her tongue over
her lips, caressing the tender flesh.

   "Leslie, I want you notice how tight and uncomfortable your dress is. 
You want to remove it now.  Go ahead and take your dress off, Leslie."

   Very slowly, her hands moved upward toward the shoulder straps of her
dress.  Her movements were as through a thick, viscous fluid.  Slowly,
slowly her hands moved.  I continued to give suggestions of discomfort, a
desire to undress - commands that she was unable to resist.  At last her
hands reached the straps and slowly and langorously she pulled them off of
her shoulders and then slowly slid the dress downward.  She wasn't wearing
a bra, and soon she had pulled the fabric down over her breasts revealing
the firm milky mounds topped by pink nipples, tight with arousal.  When her
hands reached her hips, she slowly lifted her body, and slid the fabric
downward.  After a couple of minutes, she had completely disrobed.  She lay
naked on the bed, eyes tightly closed, her body slowly and sensuously
writhing with arousal.

   "I want you to focus your attention on your breasts now.  Become aware
of how hard your nipples are.  Your breasts are full and heavy with
arousal. They're aching to be touched, stroked.  You want so badly to feel
your firm, sexy breasts being caressed.  Touch your breasts now, Leslie."

   Again her hands moved slowly up her body.  One hand came to rest against
her stomach, while the other continued upward until her fingers encountered
an engorged nipple.  Very slowly she circled the nipple, stroking with her
finger tips.  I continued to encourage her with suggestions of arousal. 
Her hips tensed and relaxed rhythmically, and gradually her caresses became
firmer and more insistent.  She was kneading her breast now with palm and
fingers, gasping in synchrony with her self-massage.

   "Both hands now, Leslie.  Both hands stroking and arousing."

   She moved her unoccupied hand quickly to her other breast and rubbed and
squeezed the tight flesh.  Her tongue stroked over her lips rapidly and
passionately, her head swaying back and forth.

   "Your pussy is craving attention now, Leslie.  It is moist and ready. 
So aroused, so very aroused.  You want very much to touch it.  You want to
touch it so badly.  But not until I tell you that you may.  Not until I
give you permission may you touch your hot and sexy pussy ...  your hot and
sexy pussy."

   She responded to my suggestions with an even stronger movements of her
hips.  Her legs were tightly clamped and she was rhythmically squeezing her
thighs together.  As I continued to suggest desire, but withheld
satisfaction, she began to moan, her mouth open wide.

   "You want to touch your pussy so badly, Leslie.  You want it, you need
it.  You need it very badly."

   Her moaning took on a whimpering quality.  Soon she began to whisper,
"please ...  please."

   "You may touch your hot and sexy pussy now, Leslie."

   Instantly, a hand flew between her legs.  She gasped as the hand stroked
rapidly along her well-lubricated slit.  After a few strokes, a single
finger disappeared into her moist cavern.  Her hips were bucking wildly,
her body thrashing back and forth on the mattress.

   "You want my touch, Leslie.  You want to feel me stroke your body.  You
find me very, very sexy, and want to feel my hands rubbing you, touching
you, fondling you.  You want that very, very much."

   "Yes, yes," she murmured as she responded to my suggestions.  "Touch me
...  please touch me."

   I laid a hand on her stomach and slid upward over the smooth, firm
flesh. Cupping a breast, I squeezed gently, circling the nipple with my
thumb.  She arched her back, pressing into my palm.  I laid my other hand
on top of hers, one of my fingers joining her in probing deep inside.

   "You want to kiss me now, Leslie.  You want to kiss me deeply and
passionately.  You want to feel your body pressed against mine.  Go ahead
and kiss me now, Leslie."

   Within moments this sexy woman was squirming against me, her lips glued
tightly to mine.  Her tongue thrust into my mouth while she moaned and
writhed.  I continued to fondle her breast and pussy as her movements
became stronger and more insistent.  After several extremely pleasurable
minutes, I moved my mouth up to her ear and continued my instructions.

   "Now Leslie, you want to feel my cock inside you.  Become aware now of
how strong your desire is.  You are thinking only of the intense pleasure
that you will feel once I've entered you.  You want it, and in fact, need
it.  You will need to ask for it, Leslie, before I give you what you want.
Ask now, Leslie."

   "Please fuck me, " she replied.

   "Again, Leslie."

   "Please fuck me."

   "You need to keep asking until I give you permission.  Continue to beg
for what you need so badly, Leslie.  So very badly."

   "Please fuck me.  Please.  I need you.  Please give me your cock.  I
need it now.  Please, please."

   She was babbling and moaning, her body insistent against my hands. 
After about 30 seconds of non-stop pleading, I gave her permission.

   "You may have what you want now, Leslie.  I allow you to make it
happen."

   With that she crawled on top, and straddled me.  Her eyes still tightly
closed, she reached down and by touch alone, located my penis.  Fitting it
to her moist opening, she thrust downward, engulfing me completely.

   I grasped the soft flesh of her buttocks and guided her up and down my
shaft.  She was extremely attuned to my subtle cues, immediately matching
her rhythm to the motions of my hands.  Her back was arched as she rocked
back and forth, her hands still caressing her breasts and stroking at the
top of her slit.

   "Your pussy is tightening, Leslie.  Tighter and tighter."

   Her moans became cries of pleasure as her vibrant muscles tightened
around my shaft.  Within moments, I was ready to explode.  I gasped out a
set of preparatory instructions.

   "When I say the phrase 'Stop now', Leslie, you will press your body down
tightly against mine and will stop moving.  Your pussy will tighten and
relax in rhythm with my hands squeezing your behind, but your body will not
move.  Do you understand?"

   "Yes."

   With that, I felt my orgasm begin.  "Stop now," I yelled.  Her body
pushed tightly against me.  For a seemingly endless time I spurted into
her, with my touch controlling the contractions of her cunt around my
straining cock.  Throughout she was moaning and crying.  When I had nothing
left, I released my grip and her spent body collapsed against me.

   After resting for a few minutes, I continued her training.  "Leslie, I
want you to tell me the phrase that sends you to sleep."

   "At my command, " she replied dreamily.

   "Very, very good.  Now in a moment, I'm going to awaken you.  When I
snap my fingers, you will open your eyes and fully awaken.  Completely
awake."

   I snapped my fingers near one of her ears.  She opened her eyes, and for
a moment appeared stunned.  Quickly, she realized what had happened.  She
glanced downward, first at her naked breasts, and then to where my
still-stiff rod was nestled within her.  With a cry of shock and revulsion,
she leaped off the bed and huddled in a corner.

   As I arose and approached her, she cowered, trying to press her body as
close to the walls and as far from me as possible.

   "What have you done to me," she wailed.  Tears began coursing down her
cheeks and her body trembled violently.  She squeezed her eyes tightly shut
and began rocking her head back and forth.  "No ...  no ...  no ..., " she
moaned.

   "Ah yes, my dear.  It is exactly as I forecast.  You are my sex slave
now.  You have no choice but to respond to my commands fully and
completely."

   As I spoke, she stared at me, wide-eyed with horror.  She continued her
protestations, "no ...  no ...  no," as if she could somehow negate
reality.

   "Yes.  You're fully aware now that I own you.  Fully aware that you are
completely at my command."

   As I spoke the post-hypnotic trigger phrase, her eyes immediately
closed, her features went slack, her chin dropped to her chest.

   "Excellent, Leslie.  You are responding excellently.  Each time that I
put you to sleep, you'll find yourself going deeper and deeper.  Each time,
you will respond more and more readily to my commands.

   "Now Leslie, I want you to open your eyes but remain deeply asleep."

   Her eyes popped open, a dull, vacant expression on her face as she
turned her glassy gaze toward me.

   "You will come join me on the bed now, Leslie, and once in bed you'll
find yourself overcome with a desire to lick and suck my penis.  You'll be
consumed with your desire to suck me ...  to suck my penis deep into your
throat ...  to feel my hard shaft filling your mouth.  Come to bed now,
Leslie."

   In a deep somnubalistic state, she slowly approached the bed and then
lowered herself to the mattress.  She slid down the bed until her face was
level with my crotch and then slowly began to lick my limp, sticky member.
As my shaft hardened, she took it between her lips, and began to stroke up
and down my length.  Within a few moments, I was fully erect, and buried to
the hilt in her warm, moist mouth.

   She rocked back and forth, moaning passionately, as her lips slid over
my stiff cock.  I laid a hand atop her head and, as before, effortlessly
controlled her rhythm.  She was taking me fully inside, pressing her lips
firmly against the base on each down-stoke and sucking strongly, her lips
squeezed tight, on the up-strokes.

   "You feel deep and intense pleasure between your legs now, Leslie. 
Complete and total pleasure.  Concentrate on your stroking, and just allow
this marvelous pleasure to take its course."

   With that, her hips began to contract rhythmically.  I propped my head
up on several pillows, giving me a good view of her squirming body.  Her
moans became even more intense as she continued her deep stroking.

   After several minutes, during which she missed not a single beat, my
balls began to tighten, and I could feel another orgasm approaching.

   "Leslie, as soon as you feel me beginning to cum, you will awaken.  You
will awaken completely as soon as you feel me cumming.  You will find that
you will be unable to stop sucking, however, until I tell you to stop.  You
will continue the exact same sucking motions that you are making now, even
once you are awake.  You'll find yourself unable to stop, no matter how
hard you try."

   As I gasped out the last of these commands, I began to squirt into her
mouth.  Her body stiffened, and she began to sob, tears streaming down her
face, even as she continued to bob up and down on my shaft.  Again and
again my cock jerked within her.  The sight of this helpless woman,
struggling to resist as her body responded to me, enhanced my orgasm. 
After a long and pleasurable peak, my cock began to quiet.  Even so, I
withheld the command that would free my newly-found slave, enjoying the
bleak look of despair on her face as she continued to mouth my softening
member.

   At last, I said, "stop," and watched with satisfaction as she collapsed
into a quivering, tearful heap.

   *****************************************************************

   Copyright (c) 1994, Mountain Man

   Duplicating this story, with no changes or omissions, is permitted
(encouraged) for non-commercial purposes.  All other rights are reserved.
All copies must retain this notice.

   [END]

   Brian C.  Ladd, Curator, Mindnumbing Archive MNA is *not* affiliated
with the University of North Carolina; it is a personal project which the
University will neither acknowledge nor condone.

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