A D.C. Tale Part 6: A Lovely June Day in November

by Ralph LeCan

Over breakfast that crisp 1973 November morning Melissa observed that next Thursday was Thanksgiving. It was supposed to get up into the mid-sixties so she asked; why don't they go out to "The Farm" and have a nice Thanksgiving barbecue?

"Yeah, but what do we barbecue -- we really should do a whole long pig," offered Marsha, "all we got in the freezer are pieces."

"Well, I have an idea," smiled Melissa, "wait until Thursday morning."

"The Farm" had, until recently, been an abandoned one out near Frederick on an isolated back road. It had been in Ruth's family since just after the Civil War when her family had fled north and been given it as part of Maryland's "compensation" for having been a slave state. However, early this past Spring -- even before the three women discovered their mutual love of "long pig" -- they had done some painting, fairly major, but manageable, repairs, and put in some old, but serviceable, furniture to make it liveable.

Since they had first identified their mutual love --a casual observer might say "lust" -- for human meat which surfaced earlier in the year, the three, twenty-something black friends had dined on a variety of their kind. That included all shapes, sizes and sexes; although all were white. Most, however were plump young women. They had instituted a taboo against expanding their diet to their black sisters, partially out of principle, but primarily out of a feeling for self preservation. The result of their love for this special meat was soon showing up on each of their figures. Hence each had an unspoken, but deeply felt, fear that her other two roommates might, one day, find her perfect for the spit.

After that fateful April day in early spring of 1973,when they had made Wendy their first "house guest" -- and later their dinner -- they had often talked about barbecuing one of their human main courses at the farm, but never got around to it.

1973's Thanksgiving morning dawned sunny and crisp. It easily qualified as an Indian Summer day. Ruth, a nurse at D.C. General had to work overtime and only got home at two a.m. so it was a short night for her. Ruth planned to catch a nap in the car on the way up.

While it was still cool at eight a.m., as the women loaded the food and supplies into Melissa's 69' 'Cuda. The forecast was for the mid-70s by noon, so all brought shorts. However, they left dressed in jeans and slacks. First, they loaded the dinner food -- a fresh loaf of bread, a tossed salad and, of course, traditional Thanksgiving fare: potatoes for mashing, green beans, peas and a very large pot full of Melissa's special dressing (for the recipe see "Varying Their Diet"). Also, making for "hush puppies" a tradition at Marsha's family's Thanksgiving dinners was also put in with the rest of the food. Food for a light, cold lunch also went into the trunk of the car.

The women had debated whether cranberry sauce was an appropriate condiment for the meat course. Ruth said "yes," Melissa opted for horseradish -- so both were taken. A large jug of mountain red wine completed the necessities. To finish the loading, a box containing utensils, dishes, and other accessories, including a large barbecue fork, was put in the trunk.

At the farm the three friends had already dug a barbecue pit, a project completed in early summer. They had then hammered into the ground, at either end of the pit, two "Y" shaped supports. Finally, Marsha fashioned a long smooth pole, sharpened at one end, on which to impale and roast the "long pig". Now, Thanksgiving was now the first time they would ever use it.

The three black women were joined by a white woman. Judy was also a lawyer in the firm where 29-year-old Marsha also practiced law. Discovering the black women's "unique" dietary preferences (which she also shared), Judy, through the threat of blackmail, had ensured that she was also a regular diner at the womens' feasts.
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As they drove up I-70, June -- a recent, but not at all unwelcome addition for the Thanksgiving outing -- chattered incessantly.

While June's lateness that morning had pissed off several of them, Melissa, the 27 year-old resident cook had offered quietly to her friends, "the wait will be well worth it!"

Totally unaware of the displeasure of the others in the car, June was "bubbling over" (her words) about how tickled she was to have been invited to join the other women for the barbecue. In inviting June, Melissa had told her that they were going to barbecue a whole "special pig." So now, as June sat in the back seat between Marsha and Judy, her tailored green shorts revealing plump thighs Marsha could feel the softness of the side of June's fleshy right hip as it pressed again her own, (in its own right also nicely padded). Earlier, 27 year-old Ruth had turned to Marsha as June had walked up the sidewalk to their house. "Christ, I know it is gonna be warm, but shorts this early in the morning..."

However, Marsha just laughed, "... she's got more than enough padding to keep her warm until it warms up, and then we could help her get even warmer!"

As they drove June continued to jabber on about how delicious the "special pork" was, and how she could eat it seven days a week. "My lands, but I truly should eat less, since that reception I must have gained ten pounds, I'll be a real butterball if I don't cut back," she offered. "In fact," June continued, "I'm gonna diet after today, so I hope the pig you plan to roast is a nice meaty one."

Melissa thought back to that reception at school when she had introduced the attendees to the "special pork" which was, in reality, the nicely marhemorrhage meat of a young woman who had the misfortune of knocking on the door of the three friend's house. The meat, which Melissa had identified as "pork" at the reception, garnered so much interest that Melissa said to those who inquired that came from specially bred pigs from (she said both) West Virginia and Pennsylvania -- later she settled on West Virginia. At least half a dozen, including June, soon had standing orders for, from five to ten pounds each every week, and no one balked at the $15 a pound, the "special pork" was just much too delicious.

Melissa, who was driving, glanced sideways at Ruth and winked and Marsha had to strongly resist the urge to pat June on one generous thigh, but just said, "we guarantee it!"

For her part, Ruth wasn't at all happy about the chatter coming from the back seat, as she tried to take a nap, but in vain.

June continued to babble on, "even though Mark likes me a bit on the chubby side -- so he has 'something to play with' -- he did recently chide me about the size of my can, so its diet time, you’re gonna see a positively skinny June in a couple of weeks."

"Fat chance," muttered Marsha under her breath, then giggled quietly at her semi-pun.

Mistaking the chuckle for something else, June said, "no really, in fact if I get down to what I weighed when I won Miss Charleston in '52, he will buy me a new car! Besides," she retorted, taking the giggle from Marsha as criticism, "some of you guys could also afford to lose a coupla pounds"

Melissa, who was a Dietician at the University, and was in June's husband's department just smiled to herself. She recalled the picture of a 21 year-old June in her bathing suit and crown that sat on the Dean's desk. Even then June had been somewhat plumpish, but that was in keeping with the preferences of the time.

The drive took just over an hour but and it was just past eleven in the morning when they got there. It had warmed up quite a bit already and, for the rest, slacks were soon swapped for shorts. The old farmhouse was easily a mile from the nearest other one, and surrounded by thick woods -- just the privacy they needed. Furthermore, they had positioned the barbecue in such a spot that the house sheltered it from the road.

June had complained for the last twenty minutes of the ride about being hungry because she had skipped breakfast. Hence, to mollify her, in other words shut her up, Melissa offered that they would have a light, cold lunch.

When they arrived and unloaded the car, Ruth and Judy began to build the fire in the large barbecue pit. Melissa dug out the large jug of red wine, and passed around filled glasses. The three black friends and Judy already planned to stay over the weekend. They hadn't asked June about her plans...

The boxes containing the food, utensils, dishes and other accessories, including that large barbecue fork, were next unloaded.

June watched as the kindling took and soon fed the split logs that the women added to the fire. "Where's the pig?" asked June.

Smiling, Ruth offered, as she unpacked the rest of food, "oh we brought it with us".

June stopped for a minute, but hadn't seen them load the car so she assumed it had been already loaded when she got there. "But it will take a few hours to cook, so we should have lunch now to hold us over until it's properly barbecued," continued Ruth.

Soon Ruth was passing around second glasses of red wine while Melissa laid out the lunch. She first put out the potato salad, cole slaw and bread then, as everyone gathered around, unwrapped the cold roast. Melissa had made no effort to camouflage the origin of the meat and it was very clearly a nicely roasted, rather full, human female thigh.

All eyes were on June as she looked at the meat, and the others saw recognition come to her eyes, although it would appear she did not want to accept what she saw as fact. "Why, me-oh-my" she giggled nervously, "if I didn't know better I would say that meat looks like it came of a person, hee, hee!"

Ruth's response was flat and low, "it did!"

June's mouth dropped and she just stared, "aw come on, y'all givin' me stuff, now, joshin' me, I ain't been eatin' people meat all these weeks," then squeaked low herself, "have I?"

"Yes" said Melissa, "and we are gonna barbecue a nice plump piggy today, actually a nice plump long piggy!"

"But, you said you brought it up, there wasn't enough room in the trunk for a person, so you still gotta be joshin' me," responded June, starting to feel weak kneed as she suddenly realized the truth.

"Who said anything about the trunk," interjected Judy and, to confirm June's worst fears, patted the older woman on one chubby bottom cheek.

"Oh God, you can't mean me," bleated June, "you can't mean you are going to cook me, why you're nothing more than god damn cannibals, oh God, no, please don't, please don't..."

"Now, now June," grinned Marsha, fondling the terrified woman's other rather blubbery buttock, feeling how nice and soft it was through the thin material of June's shorts, "you got nice an' plump off the meat of other women, isn't it also fitting that we recycle all that good meat on you into food for others to enjoy."

Frantically grasping for anything to save her, June switched tactics. "Look, listen, I'm 43, my meat will be tough and stringy, shouldn't you be going after someone younger. Hey if you want a white woman how about her, and she pointed to Judy, she's younger, she's also white, her meat should be much better than mine."

As if talking to a son, Melissa explained, "well age is part of it, but so is body fat, and you have more than your share of that. So, no matter what age, that extra padding helps ensure that the meat underneath is nicely marhemorrhage with fat, and hence tender. On the other hand, our rather slender friend Judy here, even 12 years younger than you, would need another 20 to 25 pounds before she would be anyway as tender and tasty as you will be!"

"Okay, no time to waste," said Melissa, "please take off your clothes."

"What," shrieked June, "you want me to take off my clothes, you want me to get naked, well I never!"

"Yeah, well you also never had your lard ass barbecued over a hot fire, now get undressed," barked Melissa, and slapped her on the side of the face, "we certainly can't cook you with your clothes on."

Numbly June complied, her size 14 designer shorts from Garfinkels, along with her expensive blouse, soon lay on the ground. The other women took a few seconds to appreciate how her underwear accentuated the softness of her full white body; panties cutting into the flesh of an ample belly, substantial breasts spilling out of her bra cups, a bra whose straps cut into the fleshiness of her back.

Soon these also lay on the ground and June was now naked, never again to wear clothes. Marsha, who had a particular affinity for the well-upholstered hindquarters of their victims, focused her attention on the two, rather hefty, well-dimpled buttocks. This profusion of dimples on June's neither cheeks was one characteristic that set her apart from her younger counterparts whom in the past had provided the cannibal ladies with some fine dining.

June was also noticeably broader in the beam, and Marsha observed that the texture of her substantial rump was extremely soft, almost liquid soft -- like a large, but slightly under-filled, water balloon. "Mmmm, yummy," said Marsha, and June felt her ample bottom being squeezed and kneaded, she couldn’t believe it, it wasn't her husband Mark playing with it in passion, it was this stranger fondling its ample fat --it was being assessed as food!

As if reading her mind, Marsha grabbed June's right wrist and twisted it around behind her, making the naked woman grab a handful of her own bare right buttock. "Now Junie, feel that, feel how nice and meaty it is, is that's some nice 'Grade A special pork' or what?"

June had never before squeezed her own rump, or any other part of her well-padded body (except for the breast self examinations). She had however, on playful occasions squeezed her husband's naked bottom which had also obtained a degree of softness with age. Then, despite the dire circumstances she found herself in, the other women were surprised as June paused and, on her own, continued to squeeze and knead her generously fleshed rump as if both surprised by, and fascinated with, its size and texture. They also saw a brief far-away look in her eyes which seemed to indicate understanding at her suitability to -- in a few short minutes -- turn over the hot fire.

Then the horrible reality of the present situation came flooding back to her and she quickly released the handful of her bottom flesh she was feeling, as if it were suddenly red hot, and June cried out again, "No, no, please don't do this to me, I'll give you ANYTHING, ANYTHING!"

"Ahh, ANYTHING, ANYTHING," mimicked Ruth, "then how about your meaty carcass turning over a hot fire, thank you, we'll take that 'ANYTHING' tonight!"

The four cannibal friends then closed in around the terrified naked woman and, as June wept softly and pleaded in vain, the rest of her well-upholstered charms were checked out: soft full upper arms, a round pot belly, decent breasts and, of course those two deliciously fleshy thighs so appreciated by her two backseat companions. June was more than ready for "harvesting"

Judy, who was still very miffed, no royally pissed off, at June's attempt to have her own body substituted as dinner, decided to tease the sobbing woman. "Hey," squeezing one pudgy thigh, "did you ever think you would be personally supplying some nice meaty drumsticks for a Thanksgiving dinner? Even though you aren't a turkey, you are a nice plump butterball."

"Hey," hollered Melissa, "we still didn't take the picture." For the past eight long pigs Melissa had added a photographic record to her statistical one. For the statistical part June had already been entered as 5'3 ½" tall; 154 pounds; and measuring 40-35-43.

"Come-on guys, gather round Junie and smile, you too June, say 'cheese' and smile," coaxed Melissa. She then snapped the picture of the two black women and two white women, three of them smiling, the chubby, white one in the middle, not wearing any clothes, looking very, very, unhappy.

"Hey," said Marsha, "how about a rear view of our 'special guest' that's where a lot of her 'charms' are located."

As Ruth forced June to turn her back to the camera Melissa laughed at the sight of the breadth of the woman's naked hips, "I'm gonna need a wide angle lens to get all of that in the picture!"

After the picture taking was over Melissa patted June on one ample hip, "would you like us to send Mark some nice eight by tens?"

June knew Melissa was mocking her. Her husband was out of town at a conference and June had told him she was going to her cousin's in Richmond for the holiday. Since they were sonless, they often spent extended periods away from each other. Therefore, Mark had no idea where she was now and, when her car would be found a week later on a side road about a mile from I-95 near Woodbridge, she would soon become just another "missing person".

A convenient nearby tree had a nice strong branch about eight feet high over which a rope was thrown. As they led the terrified 43 year-old woman over to it, Judy couldn't pass up the opportunity to torment June some more.

"Hey lard-ass" Judy whispered, "you know, with all that good padding on you, you'll likely take about three and a half hours to cook."

Then, pinching a thick roll of belly flesh, Judy chuckled, "cause we gotta cook thru all of this. First, we are gonna stick that long pole in your pussy and make it come outta your mouth. Then we'll tie your arms and legs tightly, baste you all over with some nice spicy sauce and put your 'queen-sized' ass over the hot fire, gotta keep turned you so you don't burn."

"Oh God, no, no," June whimpered, "you can't, God you just can't..."

However, Judy was unstoppable. "First, that meaty bod of yours will turn very red," she hissed, "like a bad sunburn, then your fat will begin to melt and we will use it to keep all of you -- from those plump toes to the top of your well-shaved head -- nicely basted, June the self basting butterball!"

The horrific effect of this on June continued to escalate, not only was she facing her own imminent demise, and ultimate humiliation as meat for a cannibal feast, but this horrid woman continued to taunt her.

"Hey Junie," Judy continued, squeezing a nice handful of the naked woman's buttery rump, "soon the odor will be incredible, hey I forgot, you already know -- just think how good those roasts of 'special pork' smelled when they were in your oven! Anyway, more of your fat will melt and drip into the fire to sizzle and crackle, adding even more flavor to your exquisite meat -- too bad you won't get to enjoy it"

"All right," Ruth interrupted, "hey Judy that's enough."

However Judy, giving June's ample belly another tweak, "oops, looks like they're ready for you."

Despite the terror she felt, Judy's description of that incredibly delicious, mouth-watering aroma of the roasting meat actually had June salivating at the memory. However, reality came roaring back as June again realized that her own roasting body would be the source of that heavenly aroma!

Arriving under the tree, June was unceremoniously dumped onto the ground, her fall cushioned by that well-upholstered bottom. Then the others took one end of the rope and tied it around her ankles. It took all the four women to haul her up, laughing about how nice and heavy she was, and soon June hung upside down, slowly swinging from side to side and wailing in fear.

With all that noise, Marsha thought that someone might hear, even if it was a mile to the main road, so she stuffed one of the cloth napkins in the woman's mouth to cut off the noise.

"My, my," offered Ruth, "but do look at this nice plump piece of fruit hanging from the tree, and pinching one hefty buttock very hard in order to obtain a muffled squeal from June said, "and its sooo nice and ripe!"

Mercifully June didn't see Melissa creep up the other side and she barely felt the razor-sharp knife that was drawn across her throat. Suddenly June was aware of her hair becoming soaked with a warm liquid and, as she twisted her head slightly could see the puddle of blood -- God it was her blood -- which was forming a pool underneath her and soaking into the ground!

June tried to scream, but the gag prevented that. Her eyes were wide open in fear and horror, she knew this was it although there was little pain. Then in a few more heartbeats a sleepy calmness came over her, June closed her eyes and was still.

Well," asked Marsha, rather off hand, "shouldn't we cut off her head."

"No," Melissa offered, "let's just shave her hair off, I enjoyed the taste of the tongue of that Canadian woman and want to try hers".

Then Melissa dug around in the box of accessories found a pair of scissors and cut off June's hair. She was also prepared having brought a razor to shave off the stubble on the head as well as that of the pubic region -- don't want the smell of burning hair to ruin the picnic.

Melissa then took the same knife and stuck it into the pudgy belly, just above the pubic region. There was a fair amount of give before the knife broke through the skin and into the fat below. Drawing the knife downward to the woman's breast bone, she then expertly gutted the short zaftig woman. Melissa saved the liver and heart, then dumped the rest in a large bucket for disposal. They were close enough to the house that Marsha was able to stretch the hose to where the meaty carcass hung and June was thoroughly washed down, inside and out. Then they lowered the rope and carried the body over to the large table near the fire.

Now it was time for the stuffing. In the interest of time the stuffing had been prepared before hand using ingredients from other "visitors" to their basement. Usually the long pig being stuffed -- in this case June -- would contribute some of the key ingredients, but not today.

The still warm body was laid on its back and, while Judy and Marsha held the belly incision, open Melissa began to fill June's body cavity with the stuffing. It was Judy who comments on the thickness of the exposed, yellowish belly fat she was holding, "wow, I know she had a bit of a gut on her, but I didn't think her fat would be this thick!"

Melissa was able to get the entire pot of stuffing into the cavity and she sewed it shut with a thick black thread. There was a noticeable bulge, making June look seven month preggers.

Now, as Ruth had the fire burning down to a hot bed of coals, it was time to spit the long pig. On an earlier visit Marsha had selected the tree from which the spit was fashioned. It was straight and, after stripping the bark and sanding it was seven and a half feet long, one and three quarters inches in diameter and sharpened to a point at one end. The other end was then fitted with a handle for turning.

They decided to spit June's body through the ass, so she was rolled onto her front. While Marsha spread open those ample bottom cheeks Melissa inserted the sharp end into the exposed hole and pushed it in around six inches. Then Marsha released the two chubby cushions which flowed together to embrace the pole. She then went around behind Melissa to help guide it as it slid through June.

The body on the table had been positioned so that the head hung over the edge and, standing to one side, Ruth gave the other two instructions as they slid the spit through June's inert, plump body. "Up, steady, now down just a bit," directed Ruth, in order to keep the line straight so it would come out the mouth. Of course Melissa, standing over the body kept it straight from a left/right perspective.

Then Ruth yelled, "hey, we got it," as the tip, carrying little blood, emerged from June's mouth. It was pushed through her about a foot more. Melissa then took several lengths of rope and tied the unlucky woman's arms to her side, looped two others around her thighs and calves. As she tied them tightly, she noted the ropes cut satisfyingly deep into the chunky woman's well-insulated body, "lotsa good meat on this one!"

Melissa then took a wide paint brush, dipped it in a large pot of rendered fat from previous victims that had been put over the fire to melt. She then brushed the oily liquid over June's naked body to baste her. Soon however, true to Judy's last words to June, the unlucky woman's own supply of body fat would melt and take over the process,

Ruth and Marsha then picked up both ends of the spit, again appreciating how heavy the unlucky woman was, and put it over the fire. Unlike the electric motor on the spit at home, roasting June here was going to be labor intensive. Hence, they would have to take turns rotating the body so the woman's meat cooked evenly. Melissa drizzled some of the melted fat on the spit where it made contact with the support to provide some lubrication and Ruth took the first stint turning the spit.

Marsha poured more glasses of wine for all of them, no one was worried about driving. They planned to put a nice dent in the jug's contents by the time night rolled around.

Soon the sweet aroma of roasting meat filled the air and, as Marsha took over for Ruth, Melissa took the long fork and stuck June's body in each of its two rotund ass cheeks and watched as the clear liquid seeped out of the holes. She then did the same for the backs of the full thighs and fleshy calves releasing more melted fat which dripped sizzling into the fire.

Melissa asked Marsha to rotate the body so she could stick the fork in the front of the thighs. Then moving upward, she liberated the melting fat of the white woman's pudgy belly and breasts. The sizzling of the fire increased dramatically as the juices dripped into it. Taking the brush, she evenly spread the oily liquid over the body, from head to toe and Marsha began to slowly rotate the body again. Another glass of wine had everyone feeling good, the mouth-watering aroma emanating from a golden brown June had everyone getting hungry.

It had been three and a half hours and Melissa decided to check the doneness. From the size of June's posterior she had estimated four hours but the fire, unlike the gas one at home, was more difficult to control and burned hotter. Taking the fork and a long carving knife, she cut into one dimpled, meaty hemisphere.

They had not yet started actually measuring the thickness of the rump fat on their victims although they would appreciate that size alone would not be the determining factor. This was because some of their victims had large bottoms but was mostly muscle (much to their delight) with a more modest covering of fat. Others had comparatively smaller rear-ends, but they were mostly fat with a smaller gluteus maximus.

As Melissa cut into June's plump cheek, she exposed the translucent steaming fat, and the sizzling of the fire increased as the freed juices dripped into it. She cut deeper and deeper -- June's bottom was good sized but was primarily fat. However she finally reached the meat underneath and was pleased to see that it was a nice reddish brown -- medium rare -- just as they liked it!

"Okay guys," take 'er off she's done." Marsha and Ruth lifted the spit and its occupant from the fire and put it on the large table. This was the first time they had actually roasted someone who had dined extensively herself on human meat, and they wondered if the flavor of June's meat would be further enhanced in flavor due to that fact!

Melissa had returned the pot of fat to the fire to get it good and hot, as she was going to fry up a batch of hush puppies in it. As she did, she thought of the people who had contributed some of the fat that was now starting to bubble away: Wendy, Carol, Ted, Karen, Gail, Liz and more recently Ariel. Ah, Ariel, that overfed Flower Child whose meat had been responsible for June's love of that "special pork" had been responsible for June thus having turned over the hot fire. On impulse she went over to the table where June's steaming body lay and cut a decent sized chunk of buttock fat and dropped it into the pot -- now June would also be a contributor!

As Melissa dropped the hush puppies into the hot fat, Ruth began the process of carving the desired cuts of meat from the unlucky woman's well-padded and now well-cooked 43 year old body. They would soon find out if the age of the woman was important or unimportant.

Everyone knew what Marsha wanted, so Ruth carved a nice rump roast from the left buttock. Melissa had opted for a nice thick thigh steak. Ruth, who like Marsha usually favored the rump had decided instead to have a calf. While often the calf meat was tough, this one looked like she hadn't exercised much and the meat should be nicely marhemorrhage.

As they all took their places at the table already set with the salad, various vegetables, and bread, Melissa first put down the plate of hot hush puppies, then served each their own cut of "June meat."

All were a bit apprehensive; would it really be as tender and juicy as it looked? Would the flavor be good or would June's age be a negative factor? Would the fact she had eaten the meat of other women influence the taste of hers?

Each cut of meat had it share of steaming, yellowish fat but would that guarantee tenderness? They would soon find out as each cut a piece of meat from her serving and plopped it in her mouth.

The reaction was unanimous, "God this is good!" murmured Judy, and all nodded in agreement. The meat was tender and juicy. Additionally, as they would agree on as soon as they finished swallowing that first bite, the flavor was different from the younger victims they had cooked. But it was a very good difference! The flavor of the meat was not stronger, but certainly it had a very delicious, slightly fuller, body that the younger ones.

"Ladies, ladies," said Marsha, standing with her glass of wine held high, "may I propose a toast to our latest main course, June, who reinforces the old adage; you are what you eat!"