A D.C. Tale Part 3: Canadian Bacon

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by Ralph LeCan

© Copyright 1998 Ralph LeCan Enterprises, All Rights Reserved. This story may be reproduced only in its full, original, unedited and unmodified posting where: 1) full credit is given to its author and 2) no commercial gain of any sort is realized as a result of its reproduction. No permission is granted, actual or implied, to reproduce a modified version of this story, in whole or in part, without the express consent of the author.

In September of 1973 Marsha was being actively courted by a largely white, D.C.-based law firm which needed some minority lawyers on staff for a variety of reasons -- not the least of which was to continue receiving some prize government contracts which required a visible minority legal presence. 28 year old Marsha, have been in the top 2% of her graduating class at Howard University in D.C. Her primary contact was one of the junior partners in the firm, named Judy who was only a few years older, maybe 30 or 31. However, Marsha soon cultivated a fairly strong dislike for the woman, as Judy had that haughty demeanor that only came from money and expensive eastern boarding schools. Her law degree from Harvard didn't help either, all reinforced by the fact she seemed to talk down to Marsha because she was black.

However, Marsha knew she could practically write her own ticket as she was already well known in her field of tax law. She had been invited over to Judy's Watergate apartment for dinner with several other junior partners, now she felt obligated to return the favor. So she told her two house mates, Ruth and Melissa about the need for a return dinner invitation and they picked a date.

"Well," asked 27 year old Melissa, who was the resident cook, "in what sense should we have the lady 'for dinner." Marsha laughed low, "she ain't worth it, much too skinny, besides they would know she was over here."

However, as an inside joke, they decided to serve a nice rump roast from the freezer which came from a well-fed young American University co-ed who had the misfortune of knocking on their door last July to try and sell them magazine subscriptions. An hour after knocking on the door the unlucky young woman was a variety of cuts of meat nicely wrapped for the freezer. Melissa chose that woman's meat as a bit of an inside joke, as she recalled her name was also "Judy." 28 year old Ruth, a nurse at D.C. General then asked "hey, I thought we were gonna start a diet and not enjoy the "meat" that often?"

This was a reference to the extra poundage they all had added since embarking on their cannibalistic joys last spring. "Yeah," snapped Marsha, "but this is important" and, patting the wide expanse of Ruth's ample bottom said, "just skip the third and fourth helpings!"

"Yeah," retorted Ruth to Marsha, "that size 14 skirt is starting to look a bit snug on you my dear."

As Ruth felt her friend smack her own over-sized rear, she also recalled that from her first experience with her boyfriend Ron last Spring, and their continued role playing in bed, had unlocked for Ruth a strong fantasy about being the dinner as well as the diner! However, she vowed never to share that with her friends, fearing they might just make her fantasy come true.

"Now, now," interjected Melissa -- herself carrying about ten more pounds that last spring, we all have to watch ourselves, so after this, let’s really cut back."

Judy arrived around six and, after introductions, they went out on the patio in the back to have drinks. Both Ruth and Melissa looked her over in a manner of assessment that was very different from the manner in which they looked at other women (and the occasional man). This was the case ever since that fateful day when their first victim, a chubby young blonde named Wendy, had turned over the fire built in the basement fireplace. They saw that Judy had a very slender, almost spare figure. Her legs, as revealed by the short skirt she wore, were shapely in a lean sort of way, although her hip structure had a satisfying width to it, even if there wasn't a hell of a lotta meat on it.

They settled down for drinks and made small talk about the events, how "Watergate" had become a major issue, and whether Nixon would resign. Soon the sweet aroma of that evening's main course began to waif through the dining room then into the living room. Although the three black friends didn't notice it, Judy had a very strong reaction when she smelled the delicious aroma; she had a flashback to over 17 years ago and she felt herself grow flush.

Ruth did notice the white woman's sudden coloring and asked if she were okay. Covering herself Judy stammered, "the bourbon hit me hard on an empty stomach, I skipped lunch."

"Well, we better get you fed or you'll waste away to nothing," offered Melissa, "dinner's about ready."

They went into the dining room and while Judy poured the wine, Melissa brought out the roast and a large bowl of dark brown gravy. Marsha followed with a tray that held a variety of vegetables, then followed with some freshly baked bread. Judy blushed for a second time as she saw the vaguely hemispherical shape of the meat, which had the skin removed but was covered by a nice substantial layer of steaming, creamy white fat.

Seeing how Judy looked at the roast, Melissa countered, "we left a bit more fat on than necessary to help flavor the meat and make some good gravy, but you can trim it away." (Although Melissa was thinking to herself about Judy, " white girl you could stand some of that fat on you...")

Recovering from her discovery, Judy asked slyly, "what do you call this meat?" "Oh," Melissa said, smiling to her roommates, "it a special cut of pork we get from a butcher over on Florida."

"Well," said Judy, he must have a very special source for his meat, as this isn't from any ordinary pig, it’s from a 'long pig!" The revelation came much too quickly for the three other women to mask their reactions." "Hmmm," gee ladies," Judy said, looks like you already know that but," Judy continued, fishing a bit, "I don't think there is a butcher on Florida, I think you have another source for this delicious meat, and its much closer to home."

Of course, the same thought flashed through the minds of all three, "let's kill and roast her, a bit skinny but still it solves a problem." As if reading their minds Judy piped up, "and don't even think of including me as one of your future main courses. Setting aside the fact that I don't have enough meat on me to make a decent meal, at least half a dozen people know where I am, so if I disappear, the cops will obviously make this their first stop."

It was as if the wind were taken out of all three black women -- what was in store, blackmail, extortion, or worse? But Judy wanted to let them squirm a bit and said; "let me tell you a story. In 1956, when I was 13 years old, I went with my Dad, who was a engineer, to New Guinea where he was working on a project to bring water to a remote northern region. My Mom had died when I was six, so it was just Dad and me. I traveled around the world with him as he solved tricky engineering problems. In New Guinea an earthquake had diverted a major river 20 miles north of where several tribes depended on it for water. The riverbed that ran by those villages was totally dry and efforts to truck in water over the rough mountain terrain was inadequate.”

The three black women held their collective breath as Judy continued, “My father, with the help of a couple of loads of dynamite which were airlifted in, was successful in re-diverting the river back into its original channel, giving the tribes that lifesaving water. We were there at the first tribe’s village when that wall of water came cascading down the bone-dry riverbed to the cheers of the village. Soon we heard a similar cheer downstream as the water reached a neighboring village, them more faintly a third. We figured there were at least four more such cheers even farther downstream as other tribes saw the life-giving water cascade by. Literally hundreds were saved from dying, hence, my Father was viewed as a hero."

Judy then paused, took a sip of wine and another bite of meat, "hey, this is really nice, male or female? I'll bet on female, as it is rump, and the marbling is so nice, you know we just can't keep the meat off our hips, can we ladies?" The obvious dig at the plumpness of the three did not go un– noticed, but did go unchallenged.

"Mmmm, that's nice," Judy said as she took a second bite before continuing. "The local government representative, a white British man identified as the 'Governor' approached my father, a couple of days after the main part of the project was finished. There was about a week's worth of follow–up stuff but he told my father to take a few days off. The chief of one of the most powerful local tribes wanted to honor him at a festive banquet, a banquet that was only held on very special occasions. We arrived at the village in the Governor's jeep. It was around five in the evening and we drove into a collection of low cement buildings. There was the sweet aroma of roasting meat filling the air as the official drove to a pavilion style structure. A heavyset native man in his 50s came over to us. He shook hands with the Governor they bowed deeply to my father, 'my people owe their lives to you,' he said, and I saw tears welling up in his eyes. 'I almost lost my granddaughter but the water arrived just in time! To honor your contribution, we have a very special feast, please follow me. As we got out of the Jeep Governor whispered to both of us, 'whatever you do, don't appear surprised by what you see, no harm will come to you, but you will offend the chief and his people if you react in the wrong way."

"My thirteen year old mind was racing," Judy continued, "I really couldn't figure out what he meant them we walked around the corner and I saw a sight that is burned into my memory as long as I live. There, being turned over a hot fire by a native woman was the body of another woman, a naked white woman, who had been tied to a long pole. I stopped for a second and started to say something but my father just squeezed my hand. " Remember what the Governor said,' he whispered."

Judy paused, to watch the reactions of the three women, all were hanging on her every word. Judy then continued, " we stood there a second, I wanted to scream but didn't, instead I just stared. The woman on the pole, she was tied to it as it ran along her back, was obviously dead and was a golden brown color and shiny all over, a lot like a Thanksgiving or a Christmas Turkey.. As I looked closer I thought she looked kinda fat, well, as I looked closer, not really fat but she wasn't skinny either. I was later to learn she was a 27 year old white woman (I couldn't initially tell because she had cooked so brown) from Cleveland who was on her honeymoon. She had been captured outside a nearby resort especially to honor my father.

"Suddenly I was scared and said to my father, 'gee Daddy,' looking at the body of the roasting woman, 'do you think they might do that to me?' At 13 I was rather a chubbette, my father overindulged me as far as my desires to eat went, and it showed up on my pudgy young body. I didn't know it, but the chief was standing behind us and I heard a low laugh. 'No, he said, no, no, we will not eat you, we do not eat sonren.' Then, winking at my Father, he said, 'but if you choose to visit us in 10 years and you are still, how doI say it, still nicely fed, we might think otherwise.' He laughed and my Father patted me on one chubby thigh and said; we won't let that happen will we!"

Judy again paused, to let her audience catch up with the drama of the revelation, then continued, "My thoughts were all over the place. Suddenly the idea of eating people carried a mystique and thrill for me I couldn't explain. In a few minutes I looked at the large chunk of meat they put on my plate, it came from her bottom, and I felt a chill, my overactive 13 year old mind thought, and somewhere deep inside said, 'God someday that could be part of me'. Steeling myself, I cut a chunk of the meat, dipped it in the bowl of pineapple sauce they had put in front of me, hoping to mask the flavor I knew would be horrible, and plopped it in my mouth. I couldn't believe it, the meat was like nothing I had ever eaten, delicious was totally inadequate! For the next bite I skipped the sauce. My father, who I was soon to learn had previously tasted, what he later told me was called, 'long pig' leaned over and said "I know its good but slow down, don't eat so fast, if you get too plump they may change their mind about you." He could see the instant fear in my eyes and he laughed low 'hey hon, just kidding' he had said, 'you're safe'".

Judy knew she had her audience hooked and paused to sample the cut of meat put in front of her. "Go ahead ladies, we don't want the meat to get cold," and closed her eyes as she tasted the exquisite flavor she had missed all these years.

Eating and talking, she continued, "we attended two more such feasts held by other grateful tribes before returning to the states, and I had a love/hate relationship with the concept of eating human meat. It stayed with me through my teenage years, but I became certifiably paranoid when I hit 23, ten year after the cannibal chief said to come back. I felt they might actually come back to the states for me so I decided that if I got really skinny, they would never come after me. Hence, in my senior year of college I essentially quit eating, going from 146 to 120 and, on my 5'7", frame that ain't what cannibals want."

Judy paused for a minute or so to continue eating. "I always recall the aroma and the taste of the meat I was first served that night, and this is just great. Anyway ladies," Judy concluded, "your secret is safe with me". However, I only ask in return that I be invited to dinner here more often, I'm sure there is plenty of meat to go around."

That really changed things. Previously, the three black friends had formed a very strong bond and knew their secret was safe, there was no benefit in breaking that trust, as the betrayer also betrayed herself. However, now there was an outsider involved, and a white woman at that. Suddenly their level of discomfort rose dramatically.

Sure Judy enjoyed eating human meat, sure they had seen her do it. The problem was she had never captured a victim, she had never fattened, or beheaded or gutted or basted that unlucky person, in other words she had never processed anyone for their meat –– but they had. Whether Judy's desire for long pig was strong enough to keep her from betraying them, or could some disagreement cause her to call the police, well they just didn't know. Such unknowns were not good and made them uncomfortable, however, that was not sufficient enough to deter them from pursuing their passion.

That was ably demonstrated a couple of nights later Ruth and Marsha were driving back from downtown around 4:30 p.m. when they decided to stop at the People's Drugstore on 17th and O. While Marsha was coming out of the store she was stopped by a young blonde woman, munching on a Mars bar, who had been in the store. The woman, who explained she was from Canada and was on vacation with her Mother and Sister, needed directions to get back to the Holiday Inn on Scott Circle. While the young woman was talking Marsha glanced down over her body and saw she had a nice round figure. Although they were not out looking to capture someone tonight, she knew a golden opportunity, and it was standing in front of her; young, plump and from out of town. Marsha quickly offered to drive her there and flashed a special sign to Ruth.

She delayed a minute to let Ruth get ready, then walked to the car and opened the back door. Ruth walked around as the young woman bent over to climb in the back seat giving an excellent view of a nice round, well–padded backside, her short reddish dress riding up to reveal full white thighs. Ruth quickly jammed the hypodermic needle into one fleshy buttock, hoping the needle was long enough to get past all the padding and into the muscle below. Whether it did or not was soon moot as the young woman banged her head on the inside roof of the car in response to the jab, dropped the half eaten candy bar, yelped then collapsed -- the fast acting drug did its thing.

They quickly pushed her inside, the bag she was carrying spilled on the floor revealing about a dozen candy bars. Marsha smiled as she got in beside the unconscious woman, maybe if they waited a day or two, she would have been even plumper...

Liz awoke in the strange bed, she was aware she was naked, and she was aware her hands and feet were tied to the bed. Other than that, she wasn't aware why she was here, or where she was. Struggling to wake up, she recalled that she had stopped to ask directions of some black women the evening before and that was all she recalled.

Then she heard the door open and two of the women walked in. "Ahhh, our latest little piggy is awake." Melissa turned to Ruth, "I think we are getting this right, she's not too fat, but certainly on the plump side, her meat will be nicely marhemorrhage."

"Also," offered Marsha, "we are going to enjoy some nice imported meat, right Liz," she said to the frightened young woman. They had seen from the young woman's wallet she was named Elizabeth, nicknamed Liz, and was from Ottawa. "Well Liz," asked Ruth, "what brings you to D.C.?" Liz stammered that she was on vacation with her family, hoping they had reported her missing. Indeed they had reported the missing woman, but messed up the direction she had headed in, Liz had originally been going to go over to Connecticut Avenue, so obviously potential eye–witnesses saw nothing of the young woman along the stretch of Rhode Island to Connecticut.

"Yumm, meat, nice juicy, tender meat, all the way from Canada." said Marsha. The words sunk in for Liz and she thought, "they mean me, me as meat, but that can't be true, this has to be a joke."

Then the awesome truth came crashing in on her as Liz felt one of he women squeeze her upper left arm, "nice," said Ruth, "very nice." Melissa, on the other hand was feeling the white woman's smallish right breast, "not much in way of tits," she said, then, running her hand down a nicely fleshed torso, "but look at this stomach," and pinched a generous fold of the frightened white woman's ample middle, "a couple of really nice, meaty belly steaks here."

Then Marsha patted the unlucky young woman on one fleshy buttock. The young woman's hips were well-fleshed, with a discernable "riding breech" quality. "Ah" said Marsha, "I would say our latest piggy has an advanced case of 'secretarial spread' you are a secretary aren't you?"

Liz nodded slowly as Marsha gave one soft ass cheek a hard squeeze," nice, very nice, some good 'Canadian Bacon' back here."

Laughing, Melissa interrupted, "No Marsh, technically, bacon comes from the stomach area, although with her belly, there would be some bacon there also."

Not to be out done, Marsha responded, "but I was in Canada my Junior year and they call it 'Back Bacon' up there, and that's a bacon butt if I have ever seen one!" and gave Liz's bottom a hard smack. The chilling horror gripped Liz as she felt the various parts of her well–padded body pinched and squeezed, and their potential to become food being appreciated, and described to her in lurid detail.

Marsha continued to toy with the frightened woman's substantial backside. It was well known among the three that Marsha had become very partial to, almost enamored with, the abundant bottom regions of their various victims. She had become an expert on the physiology, topography, texture and contents of the rear portions of the future main courses, both female and (so far single) male. She particularly enjoyed squeezing and kneading those corpulent neither cheeks, appreciating the different textures of the bare, fleshy globes whose unlucky owner would shortly begin the process to become food.

"Ahh," said Marsha to her friends kneading a large handful of Liz's luscious buttock flesh, "it's buttery soft." Then to Liz she said, "you have been rather chubby for awhile haven't you?" Liz nodded slowly, revealing that she had grown plumper during the past Christmas holidays and had continued to add pounds over the spring and summer, confessing a love of candy bars.

In fact, Marsha had made a, not so startling discovery, when they had fattened up their first victim, Ted, a few weeks earlier. When they had first captured the 30 year old he was of average build, although, originally, he had a nice soft, plumpish but far from fat, backside. Marsha still recalled reaching under his jeans the night he was captured, to squeeze that delicious rump -- the term "delicious" being one that four weeks later she would personally be able to attest to.

However, on that late July morning when they had led a newly fattened, plump Ted to the basement, she had squeezed his, now, well–larded ass, and found it very firm to the touch. She was puzzled for a moment. Then she surmised that the firmness of his hefty buttocks was due to the fact he had plumped up so rapidly -- due to their aggressive overfeeding regimen -- that the skin of his rump was stretched tight in an effort to accommodate all the new fat being rapidly deposited back there. Were he have been allowed to live a few months longer, his ass would have taken on the more liquid softness of the others they had captured, who already had fleshy, well-padded rear-ends, as the skin became more elastic. This discovery would be confirmed in the near future with several other female victims who would also be the benefactor of Melissa's super–fattening meals –– before they, themselves, became meals.

Melissa, however, had taken her thoughts in another direction. Grabbing a pencil and paper, she offered, "you know just one candy bar a day can be responsible for some serious poundage. Lets take our friend here since Christmas. Today is August 25th, roughly 235 days into the year. Lizzy, would you say you eat at least one can bar a day." Liz nodded, but the way she hesitated, all three black women knew it had to be more.

Okay 235 candy bars for Liz, at around 200 calories each," Melissa stopped to do some calculations. "Hmmm, that's 47,000 calories and, if we assume our plump friend here was otherwise taking in enough other calories to just maintain her weight well –– a pound of fat is worth 3,500 calories –– so since the holidays candy has added a nice 13 and a half plus pounds to our guest".

Liz looked just dejected, her sister had rightly chided her about both gaining weight and gobbling down so many candy bars.

However, Melissa wasn't through. If it was closer to ten bars a weeks, huh Lizzy," she directed at Liz, and got a weak nod, " well that's hmmm, lets see," and Melissa went back to calculating, "that over 19 pounds of new Lizzy since January just from candy".

The other were getting impatient and Ruth snapped "hey, whatever, however she got to be so nice and plump, I don't care if it was candy, spaghetti, or pancakes, let's get her down stairs!"

However, as Liz became acutely aware of the pressure on her bladder, she briefly wondered how many candy bars would be responsible for a 27 pound gain? Then, returning to her discomfort, she bleated softly "can I please go to the bathroom". Ruth looked at Melissa and smiled, "ohhh, she has to go to the bathroom, let's take her to our special guest one. They then untied the naked woman and led her over the path to the basement that had been previously traversed by four women and one man, on their way to becoming food.

Once in the basement, Liz was let to the shower stall and allowed to urinate, she had to do it standing up, but they planned to wash her down anyway. Then Ruth appeared with a large rubber bag and gave the frightened woman an enema to thoroughly purge her. The shower was soon running to get rid of the results of the evacuation. A rinsing enema followed and then Liz was thoroughly washed down. Liz didn't know it yet, but she would have the dubious distinction of being the first of their human main courses destined to be roasted alive!

As the women scrubbed her all over, until her skin had a bright pinkish hue, Liz again thought back on why she was here. Candy bars were her downfall. Her love of candy, from the stash she kept in her desk drawer at work, polishing off at least one, at times two each day, and the weekend's average of three or more, had do the job on her figure, making it nice and round, nice and chubby and now, nice and right for roasting. As if that were not enough, the late evening craving for more candy had driven her to seek out a store to replenish the supply, a fatal decision. "Yes," she thought bitterly, as they scrubbed her, and she was very aware that then continued to appreciate the softness of her round figure as they ran their hands over her, candy bars were definitely her downfall!

After being thoroughly cleaned, inside and out, the young Canadian woman sat on the scale, the metal of the seat cold on her naked buttocks -- although well-insulated, he behind was still fairly sensitive. She weighed a satisfying 166, with an unspectacular but still nicely padded, figure measuring 37–34–42.

The young woman was very weak kneed as she was led to the large butcher table and instructed to climb up on it. They then made her to lie on her front and took the long metal spit. However, instead of impaling Liz on it, they laid it along her back. Marsha spread open the white woman's fleshy bottom cheek, Ruth nestled the pole between them. In the meantime, Melissa was busy cutting off the petrified young woman's hair. Soon, Liz's plump body was secured to the spit, ropes and cords cutting into the soft fleshiness of her naked body. They debated whether to roast her awake or the knock her unconscious first. While they had no reason to see her suffer, there was also a jaded outlook on the three women’s part which comes with consigning nearly a half dozen previous victims to death, then roasting them, either whole or in parts. Hence, what difference did it make that one would eventually be roasted alive and awake?

So Marsha went up stairs and got a nice large apple which was jammed into Liz's mouth. While there is never really a "right time" to be a cannibal victim, Liz was about to encounter the prolonged pain of being roasted alive, not only alive but awake! So, after being well basted from head to toe, Liz struggled in vain as the women picked up the spit and its nicely-insulated occupant, grunting with satisfaction at its weight, and carried them over to the fire.

Liz's eyes were wide with terror and pain as the heat from the hot gas–fed fire reached her naked body.. Her struggles became more frantic, but only made the ropes cut deeper into her fleshy body, the apple stifling her cries of terror and pain. As Liz slowly rotated, withering in obvious pain, Marsha decided she couldn't condone such torture. Sure they wanted to enjoy the meat of plump people, but they didn't want to torture them. Hence, she grabbed the well–used hammer and struck the unlucky young woman on the side of the head, and Liz's head slumped, the struggling stopped, while the cooking of her naked body began in earnest.

Later that night, whether it was the unlucky Canadian's tender, juicy rump -- or her equally delicious belly steaks -- which truly qualified as "Canadian Bacon" all agreed that they were very glad Liz was so fond of candy bars!

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