It's Tradition (1 Viewer)

Mariposa

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Joined
Oct 7, 2014
***!!!DISCLAIMER!!!*** DIFFERENT WORLD! DEATH CULT WHERE CANABLISM IS LEGAL


"Well, Babe, today's the day." I said to my reflection as I checked my hair and makeup and tied my pink ribbon. "I still can't believe our beautiful, sweet, 18-year-old daughter is already ready to carry on the family tradition. When I was her age, I was not quite ready and it took me another seven years to finally bring myself to kill my mother." My pussy pulsated and my leggings were soaked. I felt a tear form in my eye. I blinked it away to protect my mascara.
I flashed back to three weeks ago. "Bridgette, now that you are a woman, we need to have a conversation. This may come as a shock to you, but it is tradition in our family for the oldest daughter to kill her mother."
Bridgette just smiled her beautiful smile. "Mom, you DO NOT know how many years I have been waiting for this conversation." My mouth dropped when my Bridgette said that. She continued, "I have been dreaming about the day I would kill you for years.
I recovered. "You do not have to kill me now, you just have to kill me, preferably before age catches up to me. When I was your age, I was not ready to kill my mother. It took me seven years to bring myself to do it. I had killed other people, mostly contract killings, but when Mom told me I had to kill her, it was a shock to me. All those people I had killed prior, were not enough to prepare me to kill the very woman who shaped my fetish. Killing her was so liberating! No other killing has ever felt as incredible. Other than that, do you have any questions I can answer?"
"Can I get your ribbon when you die?" Bridgette asked.
"Of course, Sweetheart, it is tradition that the daughter takes a trophy from her mother. I will pass it to you and I hope you pass it to your daughter," I said.
Bridgette lost her smile and turned solemn. "I swear on your grave, Mom, I will pass the ribbon to Kendra."
"I know you will," I said with a smile. "Now onto more important but less serious matters, fuck me, Bridgette!"
"Hell, yeah, Mom!" Bridgette screamed with excitement as she threw herself at me, wrapped her toned, strong, sexy arms around me, and pulled me to the floor for hot sex.
I snapped back to reality just as the flashback was getting hot. "It is 6 already?! I am supposed to be at the club in an hour!" I said emphatically. I checked to make sure my ribbon was in place and to make sure my clothes were the best. My daughter went out of her way to choreograph my death to make it hot and special for my thirty-seventh birthday, so I had to look my hottest. I passed by the den where my Bridgette's current model boytoy was jerking off watching some train special on The History Channel. I had a sixth sense that told me if someone was about to die. I got that familiar feeling that he was on his deathbed and did not realize it. I guessed he got too close to Bridgette and she decided to kill him for it, but Bridgette was hard to understand, so he could have been about to die just to satisfy Bridgette's need for death and destruction. "Hey, Cole you coming to watch me die?" I asked coyly.
"No, Ms. Gardenia, I can't. Ms. Bridgette forbid me to go watch. So, I am just sitting here getting off to train porn," Cole replied. "Not a very glamorous way to spend my evening."
Family tradition dictated that after killing our mother, we got to choose new names. I chose Gardenia. "No, but at least you don't get killed for disobeying." I returned.
"There's that," Cole said, "but I know you feel that I am about to die anyway. I am not sure which way is better."
"Better to die for love than for disobedience." I countered as I swiped my hand along his dick. I giggled as Cole almost spunked his shorts. I left the walking dead man to his trains.
I caught a bus to the fetish club, drunk and high on the anticipation and exhilaration of my looming execution. I was so turned on I had another orgasm on the bus!
"Hey, Mom!" Bridgette called as I entered the club. "I was afraid you would not show."
"I would not miss my execution for the world," I replied as I gently kissed my sexy executioner on her mouth.
Bridgette felt in between my legs. "Already wet. I expected nothing less from the woman who killed for the sheer pleasure of getting off."
"Nothing but the best for the best daughter in the world." I said as I brushed Bridgette's smooth cheek.
"What was Cole doing when you left?" Bridgette asked, changing the subject.
"He was getting off to some train special on The History Channel," I said, "why did you ban him from coming?"
"He is too soft. I did not want him embarrassing us by puking his guts out without having first been given ipecac." Bridgette explained. "I wish you could see me kill him."
"Make a video of it and when Kendra is of age and ready to kill you, we can watch together in heaven." I replied.
"I would like that, Mom. Aunt Christy is here and wants to see you before I kill you. I have to finish my preparations, and Happy Birthday." Bridgette said as she hurried off.
My baby sister and last living sibling Christy walked up to me with tears in her eyes. "Sis, so good to see you," she said.
"Don't mourn for me. I go home today. That is something to celebrate." I said as I wiped her eyes.
"These are happy and sad tears. Happy tears for you because you go home. Sad for me because I linger. I always expected you to outlive us all, and here you are dying before me." Christy said as she sobbed into me.
I patted her back as she sobbed. "Mourn for yourself because you linger, but rejoice for me because I receive salvation." I said.
"I do." Christy replied. She composed herself and handed me an intricately wrapped package. "Happy Birthday, Sis."
I shook my head. "I can't accept this. I am not allowed to take a lot when I go."
Christy forced the package into my hand. "This isn't to be taken with you; this is to be used on you."
I opened the package. "The table knife Mom severed Dad's spinal chord with after he cheated on her?" I asked in surprise. "I thought it shattered into a thousand pieces when Mom threw it into the bedpost."
Christy nodded. "It did. I picked up the pieces after Mom left their bedroom. I then had it re-forged to be used on us, but it wasn't ready until only recently. Our brother and sisters never got to feel it, but we can."
I gently kissed Christy. "Thank you, Dear Sister. I sincerely hope Bridgette will turn it on me."
Christy broke the embrace. "It is about time for the show. You better get ready."
I hugged my sister one more time before heading off backstage. Bridgette was already there. "Bridgette, Christy gave me a birthday present." I said.
Bridgette held her head in frustration. "What did she give you to leave behind?"
I shook my head as I handed Bridgette the knife. "This is the table knife my mother killed my father with after he cheated on her."
Bridgette looked the knife over carefully. "I was under the impression your brother said the knife shattered when your mother threw it into the bedpost."
I nodded. "Christy retrieved the pieces and had them re-forged. I know you choreographed my execution perfectly, but would you mind using this knife?" I asked
Bridgette smiled at me. "I had already choreographed a knife into the routine. I can use this one in place of the one I originally chose." Bridgette grazed the blade against her hand, testing the edge. "This is a fine blade to kill with. Why did your father cheat on your mother?"
I pulled my daughter close. "My mother was no longer able to have children. My brother was the last and the only one of the last five to survive. My father began sleeping with another woman who could have children. In the end he killed her to see her again. My mother did not owe my father anything, but she granted him salvation."
"How did she position him?" Bridgette asked.
I took off my ribbon and gave it Bridgette. "I want you to wear it when I die."
"Mom, are you for real?" Bridgette asked.
"Yes, Daughter. I want it to be wearable when you finally claim it as your own." I said.
Bridgette tied her hair in the ribbon. "Thank you, Mom. I will wear it with pride."
Back to my parents," I said, "my father lay down on his back and Mom drove the knife into his spinal chord at the base of his neck. He died instantly. As for the woman my father cheated with, her older sister burned their mother alive and this woman had developed the desire to be burned alive, but my father gave her a son instead of a daughter, so she had my father burn her alive. He placed gas cans around her and poured kerosene over her. He lit the kerosene and she moaned in pleasure, at least until the gas fumes inside the plastic jugs ignited. Then, she was engulfed in a raging firestorm, at which point she screamed in pleasure as the flames devoured her. After her screams died, Dad asked Mom to kill him knowing he owed her everything, but Mom agreed because that was one hell of a sexy killing. The fire still burns and has earned the name The Goddess's Burning Love. Lovers who walk through the flames together are said to withstand the ages together. Of course, no one has ever been able to prove the legend is true. Those flames are just too hot."
"What happened to your father's body?" Bridgette asked.
"We ate it." I said. "Will you serve my body as part of the banquet after you kill me?" I asked.
Bridgette tousled my hair. "Of course, Mom. You will make a great main course." Bridgette looked at the clock on the wall. "It is time for you to die, Mom. Are you ready?"
I smiled at Bridgette. "I love you and am proud of you, Daughter. Make me prouder still." Bridgette and I walked out on stage hand-in-hand.
I stared out at the audience, eager to see me die. I looked to Christy and smiled. She smiled back. I noticed my niece take her mother's hand and lead her down on stage. Bridgette looked at me and smiled. "This was the last minute preparation I had to make."
"I love it." I said as Christy took her place beside me beaming with pride.
My niece turned to Bridgette. "Cousin Bridgette, may I borrow the knife Mom gave Aunt Gardenia?"
Bridgette handed the knife to her cousin. "I would love to watch you gut Aunt Christy."
Christy smiled as her daughter prepared to stab her mother. "Daughter, I am so proud of you." Christy said as the knife plunged into her abdomen at the base of her rib cage. Christy screamed in intense pleasure as the knife was dragged down to her waistline. My niece handed the knife back, and then ripped her mother's guts out through the gaping wound in her stomach. I clearly had a massive orgasm as I collapsed and cum dripped from my leggings. Christy collapsed into death throes as blood poured from her mouth. She continued to twitch for thirty seconds but was already dead from massive blood loss. I rejoiced for Christy as she had received salvation.
"Your Majesty," my niece called out, "I would like the name Mary Jane, Duchess of Sex."
"As you wish, Duchess." The club queen responded.
Bridgette helped me stand. "Your turn, Mom."
I smiled at my daughter. "Can you top the Duchess?"
Bridgette loved a challenge and returned the smile. "I think I can." Bridgette had me hooked to electrodes and ran 359 volts of electricity through me, just shy of enough to knock me out. I screamed as the current burned through me for thirty seconds. The power was cut. "You did well, Mom. Just a little more and you will have your rest." I nodded, my throat scratchy from the volume of my screams. Next, Bridgette began punching my face, pussy, and stomach. She punched until I was red from the blows. Bridgette then buried the knife in my lung and removed it. I just about collapsed, but managed to maintain my feet. I knew it was almost over. I was dying and Bridgette was about to end it. "This is it, Mom. Time to die." Bridgette helped me turn my back to her as I was in incredible pain. Bridgette wrapped her beautiful, strong hands around my neck vertebrae and shattered them all. I finally collapsed and threw up blood as I began my death throes. I tried to speak. Bridgette rolled me over to hear me.
"I love you, Daughter. You are my equal." I whispered. Bridgette placed her lips over mine as I heaved one last time, puking blood into Bridgette's mouth.
 

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