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The key, Kelly found, was forgetting about the little red “G” on her name tag. Forget about the negotiation and the conversations and all of the agreements and safewords and so on. Walk into the party with a blank mind. Be in the moment and be at the party. Pretend the nervousness in your belly was just the giddy energy of meeting new people and mingling.

The apartment was a long rectangle, roughly split into four rooms by French doors, which were all open. It was some old New York thing, a “Railroad Flat,” someone said. It made for an interesting space for a party because it was both large, for an apartment, and yet made it so that everyone had to pass each other to get by and converse.

Being one of Henry’s parties, fancy hors d’oeuvres were being passed around and Champagne being popped. Everyone wore a suit or a pretty dress, and everyone was very attractive. Still, the number of people in the place was a little overwhelming for Kelly.

Then there were the name tags. The ones Kelly was trying not to think about. Ornate little brass pins with paper inserts. Everyone’s name artfully written in careful calligraphy and in the corner, and little markings. A red G, a blue F, a black S, a green H. A whole little alphabet people needed to memorize. A whole little glossary people got before the party with explanations and descriptions and party safewords and so on.

Kelly was a smart girl. She could remember them all and forget them at the same time. It was easy. There were a million horrible things she didn’t think about all the time. Not thinking about a few fun things was a cinch.

She saw a few people she knew, an old roommate and his boyfriend. She smiled and was glad they were next to a platter of cheese puffs. Two birds and all that. On her way, she deftly navigated through the buzzing crowd, smiling at those who said hello, nodding to others, almost bumping into a gentleman in a black suit who looked familiar but wasn’t someone she knew.

He smiled brightly as she mumbled, “excuse me,” as they did that little dance you did when you almost bump into each other, and then you both try to get out of the other person’s way and somehow end up even more in their way. They both chuckled.

She took a step forward, and he did as well, seemingly intentionally bumping into her again. His hand landed on her hip. “Oh, pardon me this time,” he said with a wider grin. His hand was still on her hip, fingers tightening ever so slightly.

“My mistake,” she said in an apologetic tone.

He took a step, so that he was next to her and whispered, “don’t I know you? You look so familiar.”

She was very aware of his hand, still there, on her hip, and the warmth of it. Her dress was thin, a dark blue silk. It was a little low cut, but not the lowest in the room.

“I’m not sure,” she said, looking at his face again.

He moved once more, standing directly behind her, putting his other hand on her other hip and leaning over her shoulder to whisper in her ear. “You are definitely someone I would remember,” he said.

Then, very casually, his right hand moved up her body, slipping across the smooth silk, and he cupped her breast. “I certainly remember these tits, but who could forget them?” He chuckled into her ear.

His other hand came up and cupped her other breast, which he pressed himself against her ass and groaned a little into her ear.

Then, with another chuckle, he was gone. Suddenly the air of the room felt almost cold on her skin.

She was a little dizzy and preoccupied talking to her friends after that. She considered Champagne might make the evening a little smoother, so after saying some hellos, she made her way to the back corner where there was a little pyramid of sparkling glasses.

A couple approached, also making a beeline for the drinks. A butch with smoldering eyes and a femme with a bubbly smile. They caught Kelly’s eye, and then a gaze passed between them.

“Well, well, well. Look at you,” said the butch, who wore a very stylish dark purple suit and a skinny tie.

The femme closed in on Kelly, and in a moment, she was sandwiched between the couple.

“Do you like her, Daddy? I think she’s pretty,” said the woman with a voice that was playful and bratty.

“She’s not bad. Seems like a good girl who got let in accidentally,” the butch who was called Daddy said. The name made Kelly blush a little. She tried to walk around them, but the femme blocked her.

“I don’t know; she looks like one of those secret sluts. Like one of those librarians who gets fucked in the stacks,” the femme said with a giggle, putting her hands on Kelly’s hips and holding her in place.

The butch behind her suddenly wrapped her arms around Kelly, pulling her arms behind her back. The femme moved in and kissed Kelly’s neck hungrily.

“Daddy, can we fuck her?” The question was met with a chuckle. “Not here, not tight. But have your fun baby girl.”

The kiss broke through the confusion of the night’s game for a moment. A kiss was not often part of the game. There was a tenderness in it. Kelly felt a longing, a desperation in her own body blossom. She let herself fall into the smell of the woman’s perfume, the way her hair tickled Kelly’s face, and the cruel tightness of the woman’s partner, her “daddy” behind her pinning her in place.

After a few minutes of being kissed and manhandled, Kelly was released. The couple tired of her and pounced on each other.

Kelly tried to focus. She should just get a drink. Everything would be fine if she just sat down with a little whiskey and calmed down. She started over to the bar when she felt strong hands grab her wrist.

She was pulled onto someone’s lap. A tall man with a wide expressive mouth. She’d never met him before, and she was unsure what to do. He held her tightly by one wrist as she squirmed on his lap.

“Go on, Daniel,” he said, talking to the tall man in front of him.

“Yes, well, I saw the photos at the Gagosian gallery originally. They said they weren’t for sale, but I want what I want.”

“Oh, you know how George can be in those situations,” a third man said, and the three of them laughed.

Kelly tried to follow the conversation, curious about the older men’s meaning. She was almost unaware of the man whose lap she was on and his hand slipping onto her knee.

“The Balthus estate wasn’t going to let any of those go, not for a small fortune!”

“Well, luckily, I happen to have a large fortune!” Again the men laughed and laughed,

His hand was eager and possessive. He pinched her thigh a little and moved his fingers up quickly until it was between her legs. The fear and embarrassment came quickly, but she didn’t want to interrupt their conversation.

“I sent my lawyer and my agent in there and told them not to take no for an answer,” the man said, his voice seemingly unaffected by his manipulation of Kelly’s panties. She bit her lip so as not to gasp. His fingers were suddenly wet, insistent, pushing into her. Could she really be that wet?

“It took them five hours and a high six digits, but I got one. A sort of throwaway. Not something they were displaying, but that made it even more precious to me. I keep it next to my bed.”

Their words seem to dull, just buzzing whispers, as his fingers took what they wanted from her. She was shocked at how close she was, how being ignored and manipulated turned her body on so quickly.

Then, with a push, she was off his lap. He was done with his little entertainment. She caught his eye just for a moment as he smiled and licked his fingers.

From there, she seemed to get pushed and pulled to the back of the apartment. The crowd like some living organism. It felt like she was at Grand Central at rush hour.

She found herself next to a bickering couple that didn’t seem like they were actually fighting. It was all sarcastic quips and smirking jabs. They were in the center of a large dense circle of people. She tried to calm herself and fall into the conversations around her.

A man grabbed her wrist, and she was pulled back. She let herself be dragged to the wall. The cool of the white paint on her hot cheek felt good. She closed her eyes. The voices were all around as the unseen man pressed her chest against the wall.

There was a casual confidence in his movements that made Kelly think she should just be quiet and go along with whatever he did. It was like that sometimes. He pulled up her dress and pulled down her panties. She stepped out of them obediently.

She wondered if it would be his fingers of his mouth on her. What would he take? Her heart raced when she heard his zipper. Then the feeling of his hard thick cock against her ass.

He pushed and pulled her, spreading her legs a little and pulling her waist back. She put her hands on the cool wall to steady herself, and before she could even catch her breath, his cock was pushing into her wet cunt.

She hadn’t even seen his face. His cock wasn’t that long, but it was thick, and his thrusts were fast and hard. His hands were on her hips, tight and rough. As he grunted in her ear, Kelly felt another pair of hands on her breasts.

Greedy hands, hunting for her nipples, finding them and pinching, twisting, then someone laughing, and she cried out.

People were talking to each other about her all around her, but she only caught little fragments. “Wet,” and “tight,” and “I’ve got next,” made her glad she was facing the wall. Her face was burning as her orgasm crept back upon her.

The man behind her pulled out suddenly and was replaced by someone else. The next man was taller, his cock just as thick. He fucked her harder, pushing her against the wall with each thrust.

She was lost then, her legs shaking, barely keeping her up, as she came on the stranger’s cock. She heard more laughter as she came, mocking her moans and whimpers.

When they were done with her, she was put in a chair and ignored for a bit. She panted, her eyes closed, as she processed what just happened.

Feeling something brush against her leg, she opened her eyes to see a woman on a leash in front of her. Another woman, tall and muscular, held the lead, but was rapt in a conversation with someone else. The little pet moved with feline smoothness and pushed her head against Kelly’s knee. Kelly absently pet the women’s head.

The pet pushed Kelly’s dress up and kissed her thighs. Kelly parted her legs instinctively, and the woman moved in, lapping at her still aching pussy.

The druglike pull of being used came over her. Even in that moment of being pleasured, she knew it was less for her desire than to be enjoyed by someone else. Her pleasure was a side effect.

The kitten was very good. Her tongue was skilled, and her fingers nimble, and in only moments, Kelly was raising her hips and close to another climax.

But the tall woman pulled on her pet’s leash, and Kelly was thrusting her needy pussy into the empty air as the girl left to find other trouble to get in.

Kelly looked out into the crowd, wondering who would touch her next. Longing to find some stranger to finish her.

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