tagNonConsent/ReluctanceMr. Miller's 4th of July Party

Mr. Miller's 4th of July Party

bydeputy duffy©

Authors note: This is a follow-up to Mr. Miller's Christmas Story. You may want to read that one first.

Time moved slowly between Christmas and the 4th of July. Not a day went by that I didn't think about the events that occurred at Mr. Miller's Christmas party. It didn't help that I'd frequently run into people I saw at the party, but couldn't say anything because they didn't know I was even there. No one did, aside from the Millers and the other Santas, that is. I saw Mr. Miller's car at our gas station a couple of days before the 4th. He rolled down the window, and I raced over. He didn't say anything...just gave me a wink. His driver, though, gave me an invitation. I was really psyched, happy that I'd proved myself worthy.

The 4th turned out to be a bright sunny day. Not too hot, but hot enough for a bikini for the women's bodies and the men's eyes. Mr. Miller must have had one rule: a red bikini. It had to be more than a coincidence that all the women wore them, while the guys were dressed in an assortment of swimwear.

Debbie was there, hanging out with Mary. They were both looking good. My face flushed when I saw the blonde that I'd had so much fun with saunter by. I gave her a smile. (I was right, she didn't even acknowledge my existence.) I kept waiting for a chance to talk with all of them, but really, what was I going to say? I guess I chickened out and just enjoyed the beer, the bods, and the bands.

After what happened at the Christmas party I was expecting some wild stuff. But there was nothing really, other than a simple wet-tee-shirt contest. I did hear that there were a couple of hot chicks giving blowjobs in the upper bathroom for a hundred bucks a pop. Of all days to leave my money at home. (Ahem!)

Even though it was a bit of a let-down, I did have a great time and couldn't wait for the next Miller party. Unfortunately that never happened. The newspaper reported that the FBI and the IRS were after him, and they had already seized all of his property. I followed the story as the weeks went by, but they never caught up to him.

(The locals liked to joke that maybe he's hanging out with Whitey Bulger.)

As the months turned into years, I never really stopped wondering what happened to the girls before and after the Christmas party. I finally ran into Debbie one night at a birthday party and got up enough nerve to flat out ask her about the Christmas party. She wasn't really talking, although she did remember seeing me at the 4th party. Later in the night, fuelled by alcohol, I told her I was one of the Santas. Then, having got her attention. I whispered into her ear, "You were great that night."

She flashed me a dirty look, and then she laughed. I was a little confused. She finally said that she knew it wasn't me because her Santa was a lot shorter than I was. She pulled me close and gave me a quick feel and said rather archly that even for a short guy he had a bigger dick then I did. Then (as if I needed more), she threatened to kill me if I told anyone.

And that was that.

But it didn't end my search. If anything, it was now becoming an obsession, even though I knew how pathetic that was. I should have moved on, but it had its hooks into me.

But, finally, about a decade after the party, I would get my answers.

It began with a stroke of luck that came in the form of a tall blonde named Candy. Candy used to live next to me growing up (when she was known as Candice), and we were always good friends. She was also Debbie's best friend back then.

After years of traveling abroad, she moved back into town, and we picked right back up with our friendship, which finally turned into a sexual one, one lonely rainy night. It didn't last too long, however, as we weren't a good match. We were both dominant, both in bed and out, so it just didn't work.

Truth be told, the main reason it didn't work is that Candy likes to humiliate -- sexually humiliate, both men and women. I found this out for the first time when she used to be a cheerleader back in high school, but got thrown off the squad for hazing. God, if you could hear some of her drunken stories about what she used to make those poor girls do.... (But I'm sworn to secrecy.)

I got a taste for myself one night when she announced that she wanted to ride me naked like a stallion (not that way), complete with a horse's bit in my mouth, and a horsehair dildo up my butt, while she beat me with a riding crop. Of course, I laughed it off, but then she emptied this bag onto the bed, and there was her equipment, just like she said. I looked at her in disbelief. She was serious. I can take a lot, but this was too much just to get laid. The relationship cooled with my refusal, but we managed to stay friends.

One night after way too many beers I even told her the Christmas story. She called me the next day and wanted to hear it again. She even came over for a third telling.

It seem to light a flame in her. I think the biggest reason was that Debbie was involved. She also didn't seem to know anything about Mr. Miller or his parties and was a little pissed that she hadn't been invited.

Candy went on and on about Mary. It seemed like they were still friends but she felt that Debbie had turned into a snob over the years. Debbie was now married-with-children to this old rich lawyer worth millions, living the glamorous life -- facts which Candy said Debbie was all too happy to point out. Candy moved to Vegas shortly after that (she never stayed in one place for too long), and I thought I lost my last chance at ever finding out what had happened.

Then about a year later I got a UPS package. It arrived a couple of days after my 31st birthday. Inside was an audio cassette tape and a handwritten note.

It simply read:

Happy birthday, Steven.

Listen, do with it what you want and get on with your life.

Whips and chains, Candy.


I chuckled and picked up the tape cassette. I was a little perplexed. I mean, who has a tape player nowadays. I took it to the local Radio Shack, and the geeky sales guy hooked me up with a cheap player and some headphones. I couldn't even wait to get home; I plunked in the batteries and listened to it right there in the parking lot.

When the tape started, I was a little slow on the up-take, but it soon came to me that it was a taped phone conversation between Candy and Debbie. It started with some small talk about Debbie's perfect kids and her husband's big cases. I yawned, but came to attention when Candy asked, "Debbie, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Candy. What's on your mind? Your voice sounds funny tonight."

"Really, yeah, been fighting a bug that's all. Anyways, how was the wedding, Debbie?"

"Fine. It was for business, had to make an appearance. Everybody got sloshed. Just put hubby to bed. You know, men."

"Sounds like you had a few yourself."

"Yeah, but just wine. Someone had to drive home."

"Yeah, I'm having a drink myself. You?"

"Shhh...a little gin and tonic. Don't have to drive now, just sitting next to the fireplace."

"I won't tell. Hey, Debbie, I was at the Mirage the other day, and I got a panic attack. I swear there was this guy in there playing craps, who looked just like Mr. Miller."

(Candy was lying here, I could tell it in her voice. She wasn't a real good liar, so I wondered where she was going with this.)

"Mr. Who?"

"You know...Mr. Miller. I never knew his first name."

(Silence.)

"Hello, Debbie. You know who I'm taking about; it wasn't that long ago."

(More Silence.)

"You see Debbie, I know you went to his parties."

"W-what?" (Debbie mumbled.) "How?"

(Candy giggled a bit.) "You remember I dated Steven for a while. He told me he saw you there at one of the famous 4th of July parties. I think it was the last one."

"Who, Steven?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, that asshole." (Ouch. I thought we were still friends.)

"I see you know him."

"God, you don't still see him?" (What, do I have the plague or something?)

"Ah, no, I don't see him. I live in Vegas now. He's still in Vermont."

"Yeah, that's probably where he'll die, too. I can't believe you slept with him?"

"Yeah, me either." (Now that sounded way too convincing.) "But don't try and change the subject. I was talking about Mr. Miller's parties."

"What? It was a 4th of July party. You know: fireworks, beer, hotdogs, music, and that's all."

"That's all, eh?" (Candy prodded.)

"Y-yeah, What?"

"Debbie, do you remember that I'm a year older than you are?"

"Of course, so?"

"So I turned 21 first, like one year before...."

"I know, so?"

"So, I'm trying to say that a year before you went...."

"Oh my god, you went too."

"Bingo." (And the hook had been planted.)

"I-I, Ah, never knew that, but why now?"

"I was always too embarrassed, and, like I said, I just ran into a...."

"I know, a guy who looked like Mr. Miller, but it wasn't...?"

"No, just looked like him, but a flood of crazy memories rushed back."

"I've tried to forget."

"It was pretty crazy, eh?"

"Yeah, blame it on our youth."

"What was crazy was I actually had a good time at his 4th of July party."

"Yeah, I guess I did too, but I was on pins and needles all day."

"Yeah, like waiting for something weird to happen...."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, Candy."

"Something weird...like say...at his Christmas parties."

"Emmm."

"Yeah, every time I see a guy in a Santa suit."

"You, too?" Debbie gushed.

"Yeah, I can't even go to the mall around Christmas time."

"Yeah, but you don't have kids...that's when it will get really hard."

"Right, of course." (Candy moaned, before she added.) "How many?"

"What?"

"Santas. How many did you get?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about this."

"C'mon, I was right there, the year before, so I know, I know. Jesus, I had to take on two Santas." (Maybe Candy is a little better liar than I thought.) "Maybe if we talk about it we can finally put it behind us. I mean, no one I know has been willing to talk. It might help me as much as it helps you. Think of this as therapy." (Yeah, really good.)

"I don't know."

"Well, we should start from the beginning, like I was surprised to find out that you were involved."

"I know. I wasn't as out-going as you."

"Emmm-hum." (I swear I heard Candy biting her tongue.)

"But Mary and me had become good friends after high school, and she just broke up with that lacrosse guy, so she talked me into going. Silly us. We thought we could just pop on by, and they'd let us in."

"Did you know anything?"

"No, I had heard about his parties of course but didn't REALLY know about them."

"Did Mr. Miller give you that 'you got to prove yourself' line?"

"Oh, yeah, but only after."

"After?"

"Well, first we made fools of ourselves by showing up at his 4th party uninvited. The guards just laughed us away. We even tried to talk some of the guys into getting us in, but it seemed if you didn't have an invitation you didn't get in. We really felt like a couple of losers."

(Candy giggled.)

"And after that I didn't think about it much until I got home for Christmas break. (Debbie went to some fancy university in Europe.) Mary called me the first day I was back, excited that she ran into Mr. Miller, and begged and finally got an invitation for us to a gathering at his place. Can you believe she called THAT a gathering?"

"What, his Christmas party?"

"No, it was like a week before the Christmas party...didn't you have to go through that too?"

"I...ah...no."

"Really, then how did you get invited; you were a local, too?"

"I...ah...."

"Never mind, I think I get it. You were always good on your knees."

"WHAT!" (I held my breath. Candy seemed to be on the brink of blowing it -- as it were.)

"Just teasing, but don't feel bad, I'm not too proud of my actions that day either. I should have let Mary go it alone, but she was my friend."

"Yeah, you didn't want to turn your back on a friend, and you're telling me you didn't really want to go either."

"Ummm, not that bad."

"So what happened?"

"It was a cattle call. Basically a bunch of locals for the Millers to play with."

(I wonder why I never thought of it that way.)

"And?"

"And...nothing."

"C'mon, you have to tell me now."

"Really, I have too?"

"Yeah, I promise I won't tell anyone."

(After a lengthy pause.) "You better not."

"I won't, I swear." (Does this tape qualify as "telling" me?)

"Well, I don't know why I'm telling you this, but that night (I think it was a Saturday night), Mary and I found ourselves in Mr. Miller's bar area. It was real nice. There were a couple of girls there along with Mr. Miller and his son...Derek, I think his name was. And I remember a couple of large men roaming around."

"His name was Derek. Now talk about assholes."

"Yeah, but it was the first time I met him or Mr. Miller, so I had no idea. I was a worldly 21. I should have been smarter then these girls. Anyways, more and more women started showing up. I knew a couple of them from around town but none too well."

"How many?"

"Don't know really, maybe twenty or so. The bar area was pretty full. We were just sitting around drinking. The wine was flowing pretty good. Must have been why you had to be 21, although no one checked IDs. I figure the boozing was planned, now that I think about it."

"So what happened?"

"Well, after a while, Mr. Miller went behind the bar and called everyone around. He started yapping, making this speech, nothing memorable, until he said that he knew that we all wanted to go to his parties, but he only had a need for ten of us. And then he dropped the 'so first you're going to have to prove yourselves' line. I should have grabbed Mary by the hair and dragged her out of there."

"But you didn't."

"Obviously, but that was only the start. Then he starts to tell us about the Christmas party. He made it sound so innocent. But I remember the room being dead quiet as he spoke."

"What'd he say?"

"I don't remember his exact words -- I was too flustered -- but I knew he wanted us to play in some sort of sex game, for a chance to win ten thousand dollars. He even had a brief case full of money, which he opened up and passed around."

"That's a lot of money."

"Yeah, especially all in tens and twenties. But I was insulted, I mean, how dare he...."

"That's what you say now, but back then you were just another college girl."

"I was never 'just another college girl,' though I guess it would have come in handy. But I'm no whore."

"Uh, huh."

"None of us were, but maybe you're right, the chance to win a lot of money may have played a small part. But, still, I had no idea what I was getting into when I agreed to participate. Funny, there were a lot of nervous faces, and yet no one said 'no.' It's like each of us was afraid to be the first to say it. He let it be known after we all said yes that no one could change their mind now. When he said that, I started to really get nervous. It was like his whole persona changed."

"How?"

"Well, up to this point he'd been friendly and smiling. Now he glared and a smirked, and then he even turned a little slimy."

"Slimy?"

"Yeah, he said he had some questions for us and he went to the end of the bar and asked this blonde her name, but that was just for starters. Then he asked her if she liked sex, how many guys she'd slept with, how many men she'd sucked, and even if she took it up the butt. Only, he was a little more lewd about it. He went around and asked us all. It was so embarrassing, because when it was your turn you had to say your answers so everyone could hear."

"Did you lie?"

"I had nothing to lie about. I'd been with a couple of guys in high school and a couple in college, nothing kinky. But I didn't want to broadcast it. Then he let it be known that if a guy picked us, we'd have to do 'anything' he wanted. Well, that did it for me; I wasn't going to be someone's plaything."

"But you stayed?"

"Yeah, I figured I'd stick out the night and then talk Mary into never ever going back."

"What else happened that night?"

"Nothing much."

"C'mon.... Something happened."

"God, I can't tell yah this part."

"Did-did you have to see the doctor?"

"What? Wait, how did you know?"

"I knew it! I mean, I did, too. It was so embarrassing."

"Yeah, it always is, but the way Mr. Miller did it...Jesus."

"But at least the doctor was pretty."

"Pretty! Pretty! Yeah, pretty ugly."

"You didn't think she was pretty?"

"SHE! You got a she. No, we got this old gray-haired man, really homely looking and creepy. But first we had to see this heavy nurse in the bathroom for a blood test. I think it was for HIV. We had to fill out a form, and she wrote a number on the back of our hand. I hadn't had a lot of blood tests, but she didn't seem concerned about the wine we were drinking. It didn't matter; I wasn't planning on coming back for the results, anyways."

"Then you saw the doctor?"

"Eventually. After all of us had our blood tests we were kind of spread out around the room. Mary and I were hanging out by this pinball game, but still it was pretty quiet. Mr. Miller introduced us to the doctor and another guy, who I think was his other son. He was holding a video camera. This drew some protest, but they said it was for the doctor's safety, because he was a real doctor...some BS about malpractice. He also reminded us to be on our best behavior because they were only going to invite ten of us to the party. That was funny, 'cause I'm not sure any of us wanted to go anymore. Mr. Miller turned it over to the doctor."

"What he say?"

"Well, first he explained that he was going to screen us all for STDs and check our overall health and fitness, but first...."

(After a lengthy pause Candy asked,) "First what?"

"He said, first we should.... "

"Strip?" (Cool.)

"Yeah, that's what he said, but not as lewdly as Derek, who was marching around the room, saying it over and over. We were stunned. No one was moving."

"What you do?"

"I looked a Mary and asked her if she wanted to leave. She nodded, and we turned

to leave, and that's when we saw...them."

"Them?"

"Yeah, there were a couple of brawny looking thugs wearing sunglasses, their arms crossed, standing in the doorway. We looked for another door, but that was the only way out."

"Wow, you were trapped."

"Yeah, and about that time Mr. Miller came over and asked us why we weren't undressing. He wasn't really wise about it, simply asking us if we ever had an exam with our clothes on, before teasing us about being shy. He said something about helping and then he reached over and started un-buttoning Mary's blouse. She batted his hands away and said she could do it. Then he stepped back as she undressed. He flashed me a stern look, and this got me going. He didn't leave until all of our clothes were piled onto the pinball game."

"All of them?"

"Yep, everything but our shoes. We tried to stop at our underwear but he wanted all of it off. Around the room there were naked women in all directions. I've never seen so many naked breasts in my entire life. Oh, god, and then...."

"What?"

"That Derek guy came over with a red marker. He drew the same number that was on the back of my hand onto -- onto my ass-cheek, like a side of beef."

"Golly. What number were you?"

"Does it really matter...? I was a seven, alright, a fucking seven."

"Geez, lucky number seven."

"Wicked. Well, the doctor went in order, and, all too soon, he was over to me. He worked quickly, since he had a lot of flesh to get to. He had a stethoscope, and he used that first before doing a quick breast exam, which surprised me, because I hadn't been watching the others go. Then he had me move over to the pool table and lie back and spread my legs. I thought I might die. I mean, right there in the room full of people, I'm spread out like a porn chick on the pool table while this ugly guy spreads my pussy open in all directions. He even stuck his finger inside of me and swished it around. He never even tried to put me at ease. No chit-chat; I just did what he wanted.... And the worst part of it all...."

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