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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Northern Exposure - 79. Chapter 79

July 5, 1801

Brentwood, UK

 

The staff at Brentwood had been expecting a caravan of carriages, as the newly minted earl of this place was due to arrive today. Granger had thwarted that plan with his impulsive decision to go on horseback. He had been cooped up in London, and as the beautiful day dawned, he’d decided to enjoy a brisk ride. He took four footmen with him, all good riders, to placate Winkler, who was convinced he would otherwise be taken captive by highwaymen. Granger found that rather annoying, the concept that he, who had braved greater dangers in battle, would be intimidated by a highwayman. At the same time, it was easier to make Winkler happy and thus evade his subtle moodiness.

He guided his horse up to the front steps of his home and paused to address the footmen who’d ridden with him. “Thank you, men, that was a good ride.”

“Our pleasure, my lord,” the senior man said, then they led his horse off for him.

“Welcome home, my lord,” Hudson said, and seemed almost happy. Hudson never seemed happy.

“It is good to be back,” Granger responded warmly.

“My lord, on behalf of the entire staff, please accept our congratulations on your advancement in the peerage,” Hudson said. It suddenly dawned on Granger that his promotion would be especially meaningful to his staff here, as they were employed in the place from whence he drew his title.

“I am glad it enabled me to link my family firmly to this town,” Granger said, although that wasn’t entirely true. While his estate and grounds here were truly magnificent, the town of Brentwood itself was little more than a way-stop for travelers heading to and from London. There were surely so many rooms at inns to facilitate these vagabonds that the total number of rooms must outnumber the citizens. “I will want to meet with the staff tomorrow to discuss Lady Brentwood.”

“I will arrange it as you direct, my lord,” Hudson said.

“I left Winkler in a coach lumbering up here, so as I am without his assistance, I must impose upon you for a few things,” Granger said.

“I am always happy to help, my lord,” Hudson said.

“I intend to visit Mr. van Hjelmeland, Dr. Jackson, and Mr. Anson,” Granger began. “I would like you to ask Mr. Broadhead to assemble the Catholic families who were to be evicted and bring them here.”

“My lord, shall we prepare something for dinner?” Hudson asked.

“That is an excellent idea,” Granger said. “See if you can put together something for dinner that those families would enjoy.” Hudson had meant dinner for Granger, not for the Catholics.

“My lord, begging your pardon, but those people may need a bit of time to prepare,” Hudson said cautiously. Granger smiled to let Hudson know he hadn’t done anything wrong, even as he contemplated the butler’s words. His tenants would be uncomfortable meeting with him under any circumstances, but they would want to at least have time to clean up and put on their best clothes.

“Thank you for reminding me, Hudson,” Granger said. “Do you think I should postpone things until tomorrow?”

“I think supper would be fine, my lord,” Hudson said, and seemed elated that Granger had even listened to him.

“Then I will trust you to make the arrangements,” he said. “I would be obliged if you would have dinner prepared for me, Mr. Anson, and Doctor Jackson.”

“Of course, my lord,” he said. Granger left him then, and wandered through the cavernous house to van Hjelmeland’s room. When he had left Brentwood, the door to the room had been closed and there had been an air of sadness, with most people anticipating the handsome Norwegian would soon be dead. Granger was surprised to find that not only was the door open, but the windows in van Hjelmeland’s room were open as well, letting in the warm but fresh summer air.

Van Hjelmeland was alone, and was laying on his back, sleeping soundly, his soft snores punctuating the rustling of the lace curtains as the wind moved them. It was hard to imagine a more tranquil scene. There was a chair next to the bed, so Granger sat there and studied this man who looked much healthier. His face no longer looked like a death’s head, and he breathed in and out deeply, as if to demonstrate that he’d recovered from the gangrene that had tried to kill him. Granger gently stroked his bicep, a muscle that had shrunk from his illness but was still pronounced, and grinned at the tenting sheet that was an even bigger indicator that van Hjelmeland had recovered from his illness.

Granger’s soft touch finally woke the Norwegian. “My lord!” he exclaimed, a huge smile spreading across his face.

“I am sorry I have been gone, but I am happy to see that you are recovered,” Granger said. “How is your wound?”

“It is healing now,” he said, and they both instinctively glanced down toward his leg. Van Hjelmeland became alarmed when he realized his erection was causing the sheet to jut out, and tried to cover himself up, but Granger smiled and gently pushed his hands away. The Norwegian smiled and put his hands behind his head, exposing the sexy blond hair of his armpits, and let Granger slowly remove the sheet.

Granger first exposed the wound, which was open and raw, but Granger had seen enough injuries to know this injury was now healthy. “It looks as if the skin is starting to regenerate.”

“The doctor says he will be able to bandage it up soon,” van Hjelmeland said, both of them ignoring the huge pillar that was his erection, sheathed in the sheet. Granger got up and shut the door to the room, turning the lock as he did, then came back and took his seat. He pulled the sheet to the side, dragging van Hjelmeland’s erection in that direction, until the sheet was removed enough for his large cock to pop out.

“I am not very good at wounds, but I think I can help you with this other problem,” Granger said, even as he stared at the beautiful dick in front of him. It must have been at least 8 inches long, with an average thickness, and it rose up above the two huge testicles Granger had already seen.

“I would be most appreciative, my lord,” he said, then moaned as Granger gently touched the huge organ. Granger gently stroked van Hjelmeland’s cock, enjoying watching his reactions as Granger alternated his pace, until he saw the Norwegian’s balls start to rise. “I’m close!”

“Good,” Granger said, and maintaining his steady pace; he brought van Hjelmeland off, smiling as the Norwegian bit down on the knuckle of his index finger to try and stifle his moans. Granger nursed the last bit of his load from him, then grabbed a rag to wipe off the copious amounts of cum he’d emitted.

“That was wonderful,” van Hjelmeland said. “You are my favorite nurse.”

Granger laughed, then leaned in to give him a nice kiss. “When you are fully recovered, perhaps I can help you out in other ways.”

“If you had given me that as an incentive in Copenhagen, I would have already recovered by now, my lord,” he said, being cheeky.

Granger got up and unlocked and opened the door, since their tryst was over and there was no need to arouse suspicion. “Things seemed to have worked out in the end.”

“I cannot thank you, as well as the Doctor and Mr. Anson, enough for saving my life,” he said earnestly, gripping Granger’s hand for emphasis.

“You are a brave warrior, and a good man,” Granger said. “I am glad you will be with me on this planet for a while longer.”

“I am even more glad of that now,” he responded, then winked at Granger, making both of them chuckle. He then got somber. “I am not sure what I will do now.”

“What do you mean?” Granger asked.

“I do not want you to think I am ungrateful, my lord, but now that I am well, I am wondering what I will do to be gainfully employed,” he said sadly. “I have been drummed out of the Danish navy, and am not sure how I would be received if I sought out a similar role here.”

“I understand your dilemma, and have thought about your situation,” Granger said. Van Hjelmeland seemed surprised that Granger would have wasted time thinking about him, but Granger opted not to let that reaction annoy him. “I have spoken to Lord Nelson of you, and of the reason you were forced to leave the Danish navy. He was most impressed with your sense of honor, especially since the action you refused to participate in, the re-manning of surrendered barges, was something that considerably vexed him.”

“Lord Nelson is, after your lordship, my biggest hero,” van Hjelmeland said, his eyes widening with worship.

“Your ranking of heroes is in serious need of revision,” Granger teased. “Lord Nelson is brilliant, and I am convinced there has never been a naval officer as talented as he is.”

“And when you approached his lordship about me, my lord, what did his lordship say?” van Hjelmeland asked.

“He said that after you recover, he would like to meet you, and that if possible, he would find a way to make use of your skills,” Granger said.

Van Hjelmeland shook his head, as if he was unable to comprehend Granger’s words. “A fortnight ago I was all but dead, then these past few days I have been agonizing over what is to become of me. And you walk in, as if you were God, and give me a path and a chance for success.”

Granger smiled uncomfortably at his praise, then used humor to deflect the conversation away from it. “I doubt that the good Lord would have nursed you as I have just done.”

“I think you underestimate how attractive I am, my lord,” van Hjelmeland said flirtatiously, making both of them laugh.

“I think that perhaps you are right,” Granger said. Before they could continue their conversation, there was a motion at the door, causing both of them to look over and see Anson peering in. “Mr. Anson! It is good to see you!”

“It is good to see you as well, my lord,” Anson said, smiling shyly even as he walked towards Granger. Granger stood up and took the young man’s hands in his. Anson seemed much more mature and confident, although Granger could not quite figure out why.

“My lord!” Dr. Jackson said as he entered the room. “How wonderful to see you!"

"I was just speaking to Mr. van Hjelmeland, marveling at the miracle you have engineered to save his life,” Granger said, greeting his doctor warmly.

“I cannot take the credit for that, my lord,” Dr. Jackson said. “It was as much Mr. Anson’s diligent care as my medical knowledge that saved our handsome Norwegian.”

“Then you are both to be commended,” Granger said. He hosted those two gentlemen to dinner, trying to enjoy his meal despite Dr. Jackson’s insistence on regaling him with gory details about van Hjelmeland’s wound. Finally, the thing was over.

“My lord, I must thank you for a wonderful dinner,” Jackson said. “I must admit, though, your staff has taken such good care of us that I have become used to excellent meals.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Granger said. Jackson left, while Anson lingered. Granger studied the lithe young man, and felt his libido soar, as he had gotten no relief from his encounter with van Hjelmeland. “I was of a mind to take a bath. Would you care to join me?”

“I would be most happy to, my lord,” Anson said, and his eyes gleamed with lust.

Granger gave the orders for the staff to ready the baths, and then, since Winkler was still dawdling along on the road to Brentwood, he drafted one of the footmen to help him get ready. Granger could not decide if the man was clumsy or nervous, or if he was just spoiled after having been taken care of by Winkler, but the process was unpleasantly awkward. In the end, he managed to find himself in a robe in the baths, where he found Anson waiting for him. Granger shed his robe, exposing his body and his hardening cock, and climbed into the bathing pool. “Would you care to join me?”

“Most definitely, my lord,” Anson said. He had been incredibly shy when they’d last bathed together in Visby, but this time he boldly took off his robe, showing off his agile young body and his already erect penis. He stepped in and lowered his body onto Granger’s, as if replaying the last encounter. Granger’s cock was fully hard now and slid easily between Anson’s butt cheeks. Granger pulled Anson’s mouth to his, even as he thrust his cock so it slid up and down Anson’s crack. Anson finally broke off the kiss, reached back and grabbed Granger’s cock, then lined it up with his hole. He sat back and took Granger’s member inside himself, moaning with pleasure.

“Someone learned new tricks,” Granger said with a mischievous grin. Anson just moaned, as did Granger. They finished their fuck, then soaked in the pool.

“That was wonderful,” Anson said contentedly.

“I thought so too,” Granger said, then opted to change the subject. “Lord Daventry told me that you are to start at Harrow next term.”

“I am, my lord,” Anson said. “I am a bit nervous, but mostly excited.”

“I think both of those emotions are apt,” Granger said. “If I recall my own time at school correctly, both of them will fade a few weeks after you arrive there.”

Anson laughed. “I hope it is only the nervousness that escapes me, but who is to say. I hope you do not mind, but I have been raiding your library.”

“I have not paid much attention to the books I have here, as I tend to keep those I am reading in London, so I am hoping you have found adequate sources to amuse you,” Granger said.

“There are not a lot of current books, but there are many interesting ones that are older,” he said.

“When next we are in London, we will have to visit the bookstore together,” Granger promised. They finished their bath, and Granger got out and dried himself off. He got back to his room and was pleased to see that Winkler had arrived. “I see you have finally made it.”

“The roads were quite crowded, my lord,” Winkler said grumpily. “I am told that is because, now that Parliament has adjourned, people are escaping to the countryside.”

“That is most likely true, but I encountered little traffic,” Granger taunted. Winkler gave him a dour look.

“We were also delayed because we waited for Lord Frederick Cavendish, my lord,” he said.

“Cavendish came with you!” Granger said excitedly. “That is wonderful news.”

“I am glad you are pleased, my lord,” Winkler said insincerely.

“I am to sup with the Catholic villagers who were to be evicted. What would you recommend that I wear?” Granger asked.

Winkler thought about that for a second. “We should probably avoid your ermine robes, my lord.”

“I think that in addition to being too ostentatious, they would certainly be too warm,” Granger observed. They ultimately picked out the blue jacket that he’d bought when he was with Brummel, the one that the Beau thought had a bit too much red in it, and then wandered off to find Cavendish. He was, unsurprisingly, with the children. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“I was hoping you would think so,” Cavendish said.

“We will have supper with my Catholic tenants,” Granger said, so Cavendish would know what the plan was.

“That should be interesting,” he said.

Granger spent time with his children, then noticed that Mr. Spence had entered the room. “Good afternoon, my lords,” he said pleasantly.

“Good afternoon,” Granger responded. He walked over to a small seating area and took a chair, then offered the other one to the schoolmaster. “I have been remiss in not talking to you about educating my children.”

“I am glad we are having that opportunity now, my lord,” he said.

“My understanding is that William is planning to attend Eton when the next term begins,” Granger noted.

“That was her ladyship’s intention, my lord,” he said.

“You sound a bit skeptical, as if that is not something you think he should do,” Granger said.

Spence swallowed hard before speaking. “I think he would do better if I could spend another year with him first, my lord.”

“I am curious as to your reasons,” Granger said, although it was more of a question.

“I will ask you to be patient with me, my lord, as this is a difficult discussion,” Spence said. “On the one hand, it may appear that I am being self-serving, but I really am thinking of Lord Granger’s best interests.” With his advancement in the peerage, William had assumed Granger’s prior title of Viscount Granger. It was odd to hear him referred to as Lord Granger and difficult not to imagine Spence was talking about Granger, himself.

“Go on,” Granger said, to encourage him.

“I think that her ladyship was anxious for Lord Granger to go to Eton because he had been unhappy with her ladyship’s guests, and had pointed that out to her ladyship,” Spence said. Granger could not stop himself from looking surprised at that, even as he looked over at his eldest son with a new-found sense of pride.

“I did not realize he was old enough to understand such things,” Granger said, even as his mind was reeling.

“He is really quite bright, and quite perceptive, my lord,” Spence said. “I think he had overheard some of the servants gossiping about Colonel Stewart’s staying over, and when Lady Granger, er, I mean Lady Brentwood visited the nursery, he called her a whore.”

“How badly was he thrashed for that?” Granger asked with dread.

“I was tasked to administer a dozen strokes of the cane, but I went easy on him, my lord,” Spence said. He saw Granger’s eyes furrow in anger. “I felt I had to execute her ladyship’s directive, but I did it in as innocuous a way as I could.”

“So my wife was sending him off to Eton so he would not challenge her lifestyle,” Granger surmised.

“That is a good way to summarize things, my lord,” Spence said. “I am confident that, in a year, Lord Granger will excel at Eton.”

“Have you asked him what he wants to do?” Granger asked.

Spence looked at him as if he had grown a third head, because one did not usually consult a boy who was nine years old about his wishes. “I have not.”

“I am inclined to follow your recommendation, but I would like to talk to him about it first,” Granger said. “In the meantime, I would like to talk about educating my other children.”

“My lord, I was tasked to work with Lord Granger,” Spence said.

“Does that mean you do not also want to work with Charlotte, Alexander, and Elizabeth?” Granger asked. “There is also Matheus, although I suspect it will be difficult to keep him in the schoolroom and away from the sea.”

“I am more than willing to do that, my lord, but I am probably not the best person to educate girls,” Spence said.

“You have some personal animosity towards them?” Granger asked. Spence looked horrified, then Granger smiled to show him he was teasing him.

“I do not, my lord, but I am not adept at the subjects women are usually trained in,” Spence said.

“I do not want my daughters to be uneducated, Mr. Spence,” Granger said firmly. “I want them to have the same base of knowledge that my sons have.”

“I do not understand, my lord,” Spence said.

“They will learn to dance, draw, and play music, just as other girls do, but I want them to understand mathematics and philosophy, literature and science,” Granger said. “If they are well educated in addition to being charming, they will be much better positioned to take their place in society.”

“I fear that it is often considered a detriment if women are too knowledgeable,” Spence said sadly.

“I cannot change the world, Mr. Spence, but I can make sure my daughters are better able to thrive within it,” Granger said. “Can you do that?”

“I can do that, my lord, and more than that, I am excited to teach them,” Spence said. “Charlotte has already been lurking about when I am working with William.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Granger said. “I have saddled you with five students thus far, and I recognize that will require that we adjust your arrangement.”

“An addition to my income is always welcome, my lord,” Spence said. “With your permission, I will draw up a plan, and will present it to you within two days.”

“I will look forward to seeing the results of your efforts, Mr. Spence,” Granger said. He saw William off in a corner with Matheus, both of them reading, and strode over to interrupt them. “I am sorry to intrude, gentlemen,” Granger said, bowing as if he were at court.

“You are not intruding at all, father,” William said, even as he stood up and mimicked Granger’s bow.

“I would like to talk with you,” Granger said. “Let us go for a stroll.”

“Of course,” William said, trying to seem solemn, but he was unable to hide his excitement. “I’ll see you later,” he said to Matheus, who nodded, then went back to his book.

Granger led William down the stairs and out into the gardens. “We are going to entertain some people from the village this evening,” he told him.

“The Catholic tenants?” William asked.

“And how did you hear about that?” Granger asked him.

“I keep my ears open,” William said, grinning.

“That is a smart thing to do,” Granger said. “We are entertaining the Catholic tenants. One of the boys drew a picture of the King, and now His Majesty wants to meet the boy.”

“I think I’d be scared,” William said.

“I think he will be scared too,” Granger said. “But it will be good for him. I am of a mind to ask him to stay with us, so we can help him get ready to visit Windsor. Will you help me with that?”

“What can I do?” William asked.

“He is a peasant boy, and our way of life will be very foreign to him,” Granger explained.

“Because we live in a big house with servants, and he lives in a small house with a bunch of brothers and sisters?” William asked.

“Yes,” Granger said.

“I will do my best, father,” William said. “At the minimum, I will be nice to him.”

“I am glad to hear that, and I knew I could count on you,” Granger said. “I wanted to talk to you about your education.”

“Mama told me that I have to go to Eton, because of a fight we had,” William said bitterly.

“Do you want to do that?” Granger asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“Mr. Spence thinks it would be better for you to wait a year,” Granger said. “The choice is yours.”

William stopped walking and looked at him, blinking in surprise. He seemed to ponder things as he began walking. “I would like to wait a year.”

“Then it is settled,” Granger said.

“Are you going away again?” he asked.

“I am fairly sure I will be here for a bit, but I can never be certain,” Granger said. “If I am ordered abroad, I must go.”

“I understand,” he said. “I like it when you are home.”

“I like it when I am home too,” Granger said, and tousled his hair affectionately. He took William back to the nursery and made arrangements for William, Charlotte, and Matheus to join them for the supper with the villagers, then led Cavendish back down to his study.

“Your conversation with Spence seemed serious,” Cavendish said.

“He thinks that William should wait a year to attend Eton, and William agrees,” Granger said.

“I thought he was ready to start next term?” Cavendish asked.

“Caroline was sending him away so he did not inquire too closely about her liaisons,” Granger said bitterly.

“That is shocking,” Cavendish said. “I had no idea that was the case.”

“I assumed that you did not, and that only Caroline and Spence were aware of her reasons,” Granger said. “William evidently called her a whore and was lashed for his impetuousness.”

Cavendish grinned, then tried not to, but could not stop himself. “He is very bright, very perceptive, and quite willing to speak his mind,” he said, referring to William.

“Let us hope I can teach him to show restraint when speaking his mind,” Granger said.

“I am almost hoping you cannot,” Cavendish said. “He is quite charming as it is.”

“I have a present for you, one I have been meaning to give you since I returned,” Granger said.

“You have given me presents multiple times since you returned,” Cavendish said with a leer, referring to the times they’d coupled, making both of them laugh.

“Since you are unable to become pregnant, I think this will end up being a more lasting gift,” Granger joked. He went to a cupboard in the study, opened it, took out the beautiful case containing the nyckelharpa he’d brought back from Sweden, and handed it to Cavendish.

Cavendish opened the case and took out the instrument. “What is this?” he asked.

“It is a nyckelharpa, a Swedish instrument,” Granger answered.

“How does one play it?” Cavendish asked, even as he began to strum the strings.

“I have also brought you an instructor,” he said. He rang the bell and asked them to track down Anson, who arrived quite quickly.

“My lords?” Anson asked, standing in front of them.

“Mr. Anson, I have summoned you so you can repay the debt you owe me,” Granger said severely.

“Of course, my lord,” Anson stammered, then seemed to get his confidence back. “And which of the many debts that I owe your lordship am I to repay?”

“You pledged that you would teach Lord Frederick Cavendish how to play the nyckelharpa,” Granger said.

“If your lordships will excuse me, I will go and get mine,” Anson said. Granger nodded to give him permission, then dug out his bass clarinet while they waited for him. Anson returned, and while he tutored Cavendish on the Swedish instrument, Granger spent time enjoying his bass clarinet.

He was so engrossed in their music he was surprised when Hudson told him that the tenants were arriving. “We will come at once,” Granger said, and put his clarinet back in his case.

“This was a wonderful present,” Cavendish said. “I will enjoy learning to play it better.”

“I have been playing mine for a while, and your lordship has eclipsed my skills with only a few hours of practice,” Anson said.

“I am a man of many talents,” Cavendish flirted. He winked at Granger, who rolled his eyes, knowing that Cavendish would bed the young man with indecent haste.

Granger went into the great hall, which had been re-configured to house a huge dining table. Granger was not surprised to find that there were over twenty people there, as peasants, and especially Catholic peasants, seemed to be remarkably fertile. He was gracious and made sure to greet all of the adults individually, then took his place at the head of the table. It was amusing to see them try to be on their best behavior and exhibit their best table manners, something that most of them failed at miserably. The last these people had heard, they were to be evicted, so the atmosphere in the room was understandably tense.

As soon as the first course was over, Granger stood up to attract their attention. “Thank you all for coming, and for allowing me to take this opportunity to apologize for the situation you have found yourself in. I had occasion to meet with His Majesty last week, and explained your plight. He compelled the Duke of Cumberland to reverse his decision, and that means that you all are welcome to remain here in your homes.”

Granger had not been expecting the reaction he got, primarily because he was not used to overt displays of emotion, but these people had no such qualms. To a one, the women and some of the men began to cry. “We cannot thank your lordship enough,” one of the men finally said.

“I am glad you are pleased, but the key to convincing His Majesty to intervene was the drawing by Michael Albany,” Granger said. As if they were marines on drill, all eyes focused on a boy near the end of the table, one who was cute in a mousy kind of way. He was short and thin, although he did not appear malnourished.

“Michael, my lord?” a woman near him asked.

“I gave his drawing of the King to His Majesty,” Granger said. “His Majesty was quite impressed and wants to meet Michael.” His parents stared at each other in disbelief, and were evidently too stunned to speak.

“A toast to Michael!” one of the other men said, raising his glass, prompting them all to respond in kind.

When the hubbub died down, Granger resumed his conversation. “His Majesty asked me to bring Michael to call on him at Windsor. He thinks that Michael’s drawing shows real talent.”

“I told you that his drawing wasn’t a waste of time,” Michael’s mother said to his father in a combative way.

“Be still, woman,” he responded.

“I was hoping you would allow Michael to remain here with me, so I can help him get ready to meet with the King,” Granger said. Both parents looked nervous about that, but neither so much as Michael.

William chose that moment to get up and walk over to Michael’s chair. “I’m William. If you come stay with us, I’ll watch out for you.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Michael stammered, and smiled slightly. And so it was settled.

 

Copyright © 2017 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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