Chapter Text
The suntan lotioning of the notoriously elusive redheaded serial murderess Vicky was just about as long-overdue a comeuppance as any bitch-busting served up by the Rubout Brigade to date, and very much a classic case of "better late than never" as news of the utterly infamous hottie's demise spread rapidly to unanimous public approval realmwide and was deemed singular cause for outright celebration among more than a few circles. No girl, however, has been quite as ecstatic over Vicky's execution as Lady Asami, her being the very agent of beach justice responsible for personally inflicting it and having been enjoying the benefits rewarded for her kill ever since, newly-promoted to the elite rank of alpha-masseuse and attaining celebrity status as the most popular on-duty lifeguard within her region of residence and operation.
Conversely, no girl - save for wicked idolizers of evil like Frankie, who joined Vicky in her crimes and thus in her lotioned sunbathing - takes as much objection to the cruel beauty's tanned termination, or rather the particular circumstances thereof, as Korra, longtime closest friend, mistress and committed (yet unequal) professional partner in punishment to none other than the aforementioned Asami herself. Having been embroiled in mounting belligerent tension with her girlfriend ever since she rubbed out Vicky while casually paired up with another executioness, Korra felt bitterly slighted right off the bat to have been left out of the biggest score of either of their lethal lifeguarding careers, wherein she imagines she'd have been the one to assume the leading role in eliminating the arch-villainess had she been present, given her history as the dominant half of their relationship in both its professional and intimate aspects.
Ever since Vicky's vanquishing, that dynamic has furthermore been turned on its head now that Asami officially outranks the partner she used to be so often obliged to go along with the frequently questionable shots called by and is now instead authorized to issue unilateral orders to within the generous terms of Rubout Brigade policy. Keen on taking advantage of what she fancies as karmic payback for years of being kept under Korra's thumb and with her new perks very much going to her head, Asami has seen to it that her girlfriend stays reminded of who is now and henceforth in charge between the two of them, letting scarcely a day, much less an on-duty outing, go by without bossing her brown-bodied squeeze around in some deliberately demeaning way and watching her pout as she reluctantly submits, being left with no choice in the matter but to do so. All the while, Korra has made her growing disdain over being put in her place like this abundantly clear, while remaining legally impotent to take any serious action towards rectifying her miserable position; were it within her rights to do so to a Brigade member of superior rank to her own, she would have called Asami out to a beach duel to settle things once and for all by now, albeit in a moment of impulsiveness as things are not quite so bad as for her to hold a full-time suntan wish against her partner… yet. After all, Korra and Asami's relationship was always a kinky one wherein both girls were generally willing to tolerate or even enjoy some degree of mutual harsh attitude and rough treatment between each other, but even with that said, it has never before been as much of a struggle as it is now, and with her bitterness only continuing to increase over time, Korra sees things being strained to a fatal breaking point in the near future as their deteriorating situation's probable end-result.
"Rise and shine, babe!" a bikini-clad Asami gleefully commands as she stands within point-blank earshot over the bedside where Korra has been laying nude since the night prior, and doing so wide-awake since much earlier this morning, stressing herself over the issues described above while her girlfriend has been fully up and active, making preparations for the day's big outing in which she now compels her partner to join her. "Come on, now: up and at 'em!"
"Coming, mistress…" Korra unenthusiastically obliges as she forces herself to sit and then stand up, quickly finding that Asami is looming literally right over her side of the bed and nearly bumping into her as she rises from it. "…Here. You seem awfully excited for today; dare I ask what you have planned for us?"
"While you've preoccupied yourself with being a sore loser as far as topping this relationship goes," the noirette explains, "I've kept likewise with my duties all the while, as any decent lifeguard ought to, and today's the day all the investigation and tracking I've been doing pays off when a certain two tyrannical tarts pay up, if you know what I mean, and of course you do, seeing as it's literally our job!"
"So then, we're finally gonna rub out a couple together again?" Korra questions, now starting to sound slightly more interested. After all, they haven't done such a thing since Asami "cheated" in order to get her hands on Vicky through doing so in the company of a partner who didn't mind settling for the side-villainess, and considering this act to have robbed her of the would-be-most important kill of her career, Korra has hardly been eager to pair up with her girlfriend for active punishment patrol again. Now that the chance to do so is being presented to her with no small amount of enthusiasm, though, she would be lying to say she isn't, at the very least, tempted by the offer - which she isn't exactly in a position to actually refuse in any case - and curious as to the identities of these targeted "tarts" whom Asami is so giddy over the prospect of lynching.
"Correct," Asami confirms before going on teasingly, "and not just any couple either, but one our fellow lifeguard Pauline, whose recent activity with me I'm sure you needn't be reminded of, tipped me off to and requested that I take care of for her. You see, the guilty girls in question used to be close friends of hers back in the days before the Brigade, ever since whose rise they've both stubbornly refused to give up their old habits. Such habits and girls who demonstrate them, suffice to say, have no place under the new order that's been brought to the beaches of the realm, and though Pauline tried to sway them away from their wicked ways, they still foolishly refused. By this time, their window of opportunity for redemption has long-since definitively closed, and so now they must be suntan lotioned, which Pauline herself, being the best-qualified among all of us for hunting them down given her own personal history with them, would have already seen to if she weren't so reluctant to do so on account of that very same reason."
"So basically," Korra asks back, scowling at her superior's smiling smugness which Asami retains all the while with no acknowledgement given to her ever-increasingly henpecked partner's dissatisfaction as has come to be a consistently recurring feature of their conversations, "you're finally asking me out to punish a naughty couple together again… as a favor for the girl you cheated on me with?"
"Well, if that's the way you'd like to insist on putting it," Asami answers bluntly yet with disingenuously pleasant demeanor, "then yes; that's the basic gist of the deal!"
Korra growls under her breath, just about as fed up with her treatment in this moment as she can recall being at any earlier time since Vicky's demise. "Look," she says, "if your long-term goal is to suntan lotion me, you might as well get it over with right here and now; if being your bitch is gonna be my place in life from now on, then I'll gladly choose death with how you've got me feeling right now… which is subject to change later, so take this opportunity to put me out of my misery, or leave it!"
As she says all this, Korra suddenly feels mortified at the realization that she isn't even joking.
Asami is visibly - and with apparent sincerity - taken aback at the suggestion that she would want to inflict such a fate on the love of her life. "What; suntan lotion you?!" she questions, likewise doing an excellent job of keeping up her desired act if her shock is not genuine. "Why in all the realms of creation would I want to do that to you, let alone you even for a moment want it for yourself? You know we're in this together for the long haul, and that I would never trade you for any other partner in the world!"
"Well, you've certainly had a funny way of showing it as of late." Korra replies, calming down considerably as she is relieved not to be taken up on her hotheadedly life-forfeiting offer.
"Korra, sweetheart," Asami advises her girlfriend, "it really pains me to see you constantly making this so hard on yourself; you just need to let it go, and accept that I'm better than you! Once you let yourself get over that fact, you'll be so much happier; likely more-so than you ever were while there was still a question of dominance between us to struggle over."
"You know," Korra admits with a bitter sigh, "I might be a little more open to getting comfortable in this place you so clearly want to keep me in permanently if you would just stop rubbing it in all the time; I get it, alright? You may think you have the right to have me under your thumb forever, and the rest of the Brigade may not have any objections to to your attitude yet, but one jackpot kill will only get you so far for so long, Asami!"
"Oh, don't worry:" Asami assures, "I'm certain I'll grow tired of gloating in due time, just as you'll grow accustomed to - and I'm using your own words here - being my bitch. Likewise, on the topic of rubbing things in, that brings us back to our task at hand for today, which we really should be heading out to meet right about now, so save any further whining for later and let's go polish some princesses, shall we?"
Korra raises an eyebrow, suddenly expressing enticement, as she moves toward the closet in search of a swimsuit while continuing the wisely subject-shifted conversation. "Princesses, you say? If you weren't looking for an argument this morning, you ought to have done so as soon as you woke me up; miserable as you've made me, I'd be hard-pressed to turn down any chance to treat a spoiled royal beauty to her last luxury. Are there even any active princesses still left untanned, though, or are we talking about girls who've abdicated their titles as required, but proven to persist in their evil ways?"
"Real princesses, who touting themselves as such and are served by remnants of their original brainwashed followings to this day." Asami is pleased to inform her partner. "What's more and for all we know, which is a whole damn lot, they are quite possibly the very last holdouts of their kind to yet be frolicking untanned; their execution might very well finalize the realmwide extinction of royalty in practice!"
Korra's hate-on for excessively affluent women, and those living under the now-outlawed pretenses of royalty in particular, has been well-known since long before she became licensed to hold such girls lethally accountable for their bitchiness, which she made a point of doing to several so-called princesses and queens throughout her earlier days as a lifeguard of the Rubout Brigade. Due in no small part to her own efforts, however, rogue royals remaining ripe for righteously ravishing rubdowns would become increasingly scarce over time, and it had become Korra's assumption by now that none were left at all, save for the few who relinquished their statuses during the grace period offered for them to do so before royalty itself was added to the Brigade's long list of irrevocably punishable offenses; there is little doubt that no such chance would have been allowed if it'd been her call.
Korra's eyes light up for the first time that Asami has witnessed in a long time at the confirmation of just what kind of score her mistress is inviting her to make good on here. "Count me in." she affirms enthusiastically, cracking a smile for the first time today. The mere thought of being the girl who puts an end to the very concept of royal haughtiness by applying quintessential comeuppance against its last living practitioness is already making Korra feel hot all over, and as she entertains it further, she starts reckoning that such an achievement would likely earn her the kind of beach cred with which she could hope to reassert herself as her partner's equal. It doesn't take her much longer past this realization to moreover reason that Asami obviously wouldn't want that opportunity for her, thusly deduce that its possibility probably hasn't occurred to her, and accordingly refrain from verbalizing any of these thoughts at this time.
"You don't exactly have much of a choice in the matter of this mission, mind you," Asami notes, "but I'm glad to be reminding you of this only after you've already accepted it. Let's try to truly enjoy ourselves out there, like we always used to on our on-duty dates, shall we?"
"But of course." Korra agrees as she straps on her bikini top before turning back around and striking a seductive pose at her lover; per her plan, the same pose will shortly be letting some glorified bully of a pampered pretty know that karma has come to collect her long-overdue debt. "With this job, enjoying our duties isn't exactly a task that demands much conscious effort… regardless of how lousy life is otherwise going. Now, let's walk and talk: I get that these girls are princesses, but what else is worth knowing about them; what are their names?"
Rosalina and Daisy both have pretty much all the boxes checked as far as the stereotypes of royalty within the realm go. Most relevantly among these traits, they are utterly vain in their superficial beauty, irredeemably selfish in their spoiled brattiness, and constantly espousing an unwarranted sense of superiority, deeming themselves innately better than just about everybody who doesn't share their ridiculous degree of wealth and ill-begotten power over their brainwashed "subjects". During their wicked ilk's heyday, they were good friends with Peach, arguably the most popular of all their fellow princesses throughout the realm, constituting a sort of power trio akin to the likes of the Dazzlings and the Trix, albeit working together much less consistently as all three ruled their own separate domains whose respective leadership (a word used very generously here) they prioritized above all else. Peach, of course, received her final reward very early in the Rubout Brigade's global campaign as the first victim of the now-legendary pool party mega-bust where the lethal lifeguard gang solidified their rise to prominence and which her status as a casualty of has gone on to be better-remembered than any of her short life's shallow accomplishments as her most posthumously enduring claim to fame. Whereas the remaining two thirds of other notoriously naughty threesomes have seldom lasted long following the demises of their first members (usually the leaders) before being reunited as equals in lotioned sunbathing, however, Daisy and Rosalina have not only managed to stay untanned for an inordinately long time as elapsed since Peach's punishment, but maintained regular mutual association all the while, growing closer as a duo than they ever were in a threesome. Although they owe much to luck in regards to their continued existence, the survival skills demonstrated by both Rosalina and Daisy in their justice-evading endeavors are more than worthy of note as the two have proven far more cunning and crafty than one might easily assume them to be capable of. Evidence of this is epitomized in the fact that their cults of personality still have extant followings, albeit drastically reduced ones, in spite of their fugitive status. Many of these hopelessly diehard fangirls have actively aided their princesses in defying the righteous will of the Rubout Brigade, and each and every one of them will pay the price that must be exacted for their complicity in due time, but not before the women responsible for turning them into blindly devoted drones who must be put down for their own good are given their just desserts first, and in far harsher fashion as reserved for true villainesses like themselves.
As made possible thanks to intel provided by one Miss Pauline, a former affluent acquaintance of the condemned who, unlike them, has given up on her old ways as required of her per those imposed by the Brigade of which she's since become a loyal and trusted member, the passing of said judgment begins now, starting with summery executions for the foremost guilty parties as Daisy and Rosalina's luck-streaks, reigns and lives all end today… beach babe style!
It is just past nine, and the sun has still yet to complete its daily ascent to peak position and intensity, when the targeted princesses are first spotted, in the midst of enjoying their routine morning walk in each other's company alone, after which they will meet back up with the entourages by whom they'll be surrounded throughout the remainder of the day, or so their intended schedule goes. Suffice to say, Asami and Korra have different plans for Rosalina and Daisy as they stalk the duo from far behind in eager anticipation of the perfect opening to make their move. Upon deeming the coast to be as clear as it's realistically going to get, the lifeguard couple springs into action, both girls making a rapid dash toward the royal pair's sauntering backsides. The princesses hear something approaching and turn around just in time to come face-to-face with their assailants as they're each simultaneously grabbed by either arm; Korra gets the blonde Rosalina while Asami takes the brown-haired Daisy, per the pairing arrangement they agreed upon beforehand.
"Ah, hey; let go of me this instant!" Rosalina protests indignantly while struggling feebly against the painfully tight grip of her vastly stronger captor. "Just who do you think you are?!"
"Yeah," Daisy seconds her girlfriend's emotion while putting up similarly pathetic physical resistance, "and more importantly, don't you know who we are?"
"Oh, we know exactly who you are, Daisy; Rosalina." Asami assures them both. "In fact, we've heard all too much about you and your many exploits; far more, I can only imagine, than you'd want any of your so-called subjects to know. You two are very naughty girls, indeed!"
"Yes, and as for who we are," Korra adds, gleefully watching Rosalina's eyes go wide and her mouth fall agape while her partner concurrently watches Daisy's face go through the same motions as the realization dawns on either princess just in time for their fears' confirmation to be verbalized, "let's just say we come from a line of work that specializes in servicing naughty girls like you… Actually, I'll say more than that: we're with the Rubout Brigade, and you're both under arrest for long-term refusal to relinquish illegal titles! Now take it all off and get your towels rolled out, unless you'd prefer to do things the hard way; I know I would!"
Trembling speechlessly, Rosalina and Daisy exchange mutually fearful looks, verifying from one another's expressions that they aren't dreaming, hallucinating or doing anything else of the sort; this is for real.
"Oh, goddesses…" Rosalina mutters in horror as she takes belated notice of the bronze bottle strapped to the side of Korra's bikini bottom. "OH, FUCK, NO!" the blonde tyraness then promptly and hysterically screams as she once again starts trying to break free in vain desperation, flailing every part of her body that she can move and wildly kicking and jumping to no avail. Amused by this humiliating display, Korra opts to let her victim continue showing herself as the contemptibly pathetic excuse for a woman she is, anticipating that Rosalina's undisciplined body won't be able to keep it up for long before tiring.
"Wait;" Daisy meanwhile resorts to equally futile bargaining, "please just hear me out, lifeguard: I surrender! I can totally give up my title if that's what you want from me; there's no need to do anything too drastic, now!"
"You had your chance to abdicate your royal status, Daisy," Asami coldly reminds her quarry, "and plenty of time to get around to making the change; now, that window of opportunity has closed, and what we want from you - what justice demands be taken from you - is no longer something so trivial as a title. You made and stuck with your choice to live as a princess, and so it's only natural that you should die as one, too. You had your fun, and now it's done, so face the sun!"
"No! I'm sorry; I'm sorry for everything!" Daisy goes on pleading, ignorantly misusing the word "sorry" in confusion between actual remorse, of which she is incapable, and self-centered regret, with which she is presently overcome solely on account of unexpectedly getting caught and now having to face the consequences for her lifetime of wickedness.
"Oh, sweet goddesses, please don't suntan lotion me!" she proceeds to bluntly beg.
At this, Asami takes a moment to lean her face in toward Daisy's, getting almost up-close enough to kiss her, before soft-spokenly breaking the bottom line to the princess, almost whispering as she formally declares her sentence: "I'm gonna suntan lotion you."
At this point, Daisy bursts into tears.
With her struggling subsiding as of right about now, an exhausted Rosalina is soon left panting in place as she catches her breath, and her eyes begin wetting themselves as well, albeit not as abruptly as her bawling partner. "I wanna go home…" she whines despondently.
"Sorry-not-sorry," Korra smugly shuts down her wish, "but that ain't happening, Rosie… you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"
"I kind of do mind…" Rosalina reluctantly goes along with the conversation, knowing exactly where it's heading.
"Well, too bad, Rosie;" Korra dismisses, "I am here to punish you, after all, and have no obligation, nor see any good reason, to make your comeuppance any easier on you than you deserve. Now, I'm about to let go of your arms, and as soon as I do, you're gonna take off your swimsuit and hand it over to me, nice and folded for the auction house; try and do anything else, and you'll find yourself in for an even worse time here. Do I make myself clear?"
Rosalina says nothing, and moves her head to just the bare minimum of what can be called nodding, as she appears to be zoning out into an almost catatonic state. Korra thus releases her grip, upon which the princess's first instinctive thought is of running away, but Rosalina refrains from doing so, knowing that it truly would accomplish nothing besides earning her an extra-punishing final ordeal. Closing her increasingly teary eyes tightly and blushing shamefully as she follows her presiding lifeguard's instructions like a good girl, Rosalina then strips, rendering herself fully and permanently nude within seconds.
"I suppose I should get out my towel next?" the condemned beauty preemptively asks, recalling the earlier prompt for both her and Daisy to do so.
"That would be correct," Korra confirms, "unless you're a fan of getting covered with sand. Of course, that'll be the least of your concerns with what I'm gonna be putting all over that hot body of yours either way."
With this, the lifeguard reaches down to her waist, unfastening and brandishing her weapon of choice in preparation for its imminent usage. Rosalina, meanwhile, sets down her tote bag and pulls out her bright blue beach blanket, rolling it out on the ground in front of her before seating herself upright on it as she gets ready for her royal rubdown. She is currently and rather wisely making an active effort not to think too hard about much of anything, least of all the existential dread of her consciousness's impending destruction as her only goal now is to feel as little distress and as much pleasure as possible for her final minutes alive.
"Will this be an acceptable pose for me to get my tan in?" Rosalina asks meekly, halfheartedly flexing her chest forward, as she watches Korra uncap her lotion bottle.
"It will be for the better part of your massage's duration," the swarthy sun-mistress answers as she kneels down to her target's level and crawls in to get up-close and face-to-face with her, "and by the time I'll want you properly laid out for the big finish, I'm counting on you being much too far gone to hear, much less heed, any order I give, so don't worry about your posing, Rosie: I'll be taking care of that and all other matters pertaining to you from here on out!"
"Oooh!" Rosalina then promptly gasps as the very next thing she feels is the cold yet utterly hot sensation of Korra's oil-soaked hand sliding up against her bare bosom, hence officially commencing the massage that will be making a sexy sunbather out of her shortly; sooner than she knows what's hit her, so she hopes.
Deriving satisfaction from the pleasure-paralyzed princess's reactions to the initial waves of sensuality beginning to penetrate every fiber of her being as a trembling Rosalina tilts her head upward and reclines farther back against the wavering support of her arms, biting her lip all the while, it is Korra's own hope that her pretty prey's upcoming climax will signify the end not only of Rosalina, but of her bratty breed as a whole. Naturally, this will require "Rosie" to outlast her girlfriend, whose penalization as applied by Asami is presently coming underway in rough concurrence, and so Korra is determined to draw out the blonde's execution experience for as long as necessary.
"Here's letting you know up front, Rosie:" she gives fair warning accordingly as she lays her second hand upon Rosalina's chest and starts the exquisitely slow escalation, feeling genuinely obliged to do seeing as this accentuation of her treatment has nothing to do with actually punishing her (not that the royal pain doesn't deserve it regardless), "this won't be over quickly; not by a long shot."
"Haaaaah…" Rosalina lets out a sharp sigh, looking all sorts of hotly bothered as she blushes, winces and clenches her teeth tensely in anxious discomfort. "I guess it's true what they say:" she bemoans her fate, "karma is one kinky mistress!"
Daisy was always the most hotheaded and brutish of the princess trio as well as the least mature, which says a tremendous deal about the sheer awfulness of her personality given that lack of maturity is arguably the coremost character flaw whose ramifications secured lotion rubs for all three of them. As the diva-turned-damsel enters a state of hysterics upon the official passing of her sunbathing sentence, Asami lets Daisy's pre-tan tantrum play itself out, watching her sob and whine as she jerks her restrained body back and forth, jumping and stomping in place and spouting words of impudent, not to mention impotent, defiance all the while.
"This can't be the end of gorgeous me;" she baselessly cries out, "you'll pay for this… I have followers who'd do anything for me, you know!"
While Daisy's breakdown began as a display of mere sorrow and fear, she is now showing wrathful anger as well with the suggestion that vengeance will be exacted in her name, further proving that she is sorry for precisely none of the actions that got her into this predicament.
"Ah, yes: your so-called followers; they'll all be what learning proper authority is in due time." Asami explains, unfazed by Daisy's empty threats as the condemned girl subsides in her outburst for a highly evident lack of stamina. "We'll do our best to rehabilitate as many of them as are willing to be helped from your brainwashing, while any and all who would seek to avenge their beloved princess will be finding themselves reunited with her soon enough. As for the here and now, with the matter of your own tanning, Miss Daisy, I see no reason to delay getting this show on the road, nor my suntan lotion on your body, any longer, so please be a dear and get that pesky bikini out of the way for me, and don't you dare make any sudden moves!"
With this, the lifeguard releases her grasp of her target, who does exactly as anticipated, frantically trying to run away. Daisy manages to cover not even ten feet's worth of distance before finding herself tackled from behind by a quick-reacting Asami, who proceeds to deliver several well-earned spanks to either of the evil princess's asscheeks as she pins her down and sets about stripping her forcibly.
"That wasn't a smart move," she scolds between slaps, "not that I expected anything less from you; you're really in for it now, babe!"
"Curses;" Daisy laments her defeat, verbalizing her ultimate realization as she makes it, "caught in a dead end! It's over; I'm done for: I'm gonna get… gonna get…"
"Go on, say it!" Asami encourages, reveling in this moment which has occurred during many another bad beach babe's downfall, but truly never gets old.
"I'm gonna get suntan lotioned!" the villainess shrieks in despairing horror as she gets the understanding fully through her stubborn head that she is completely screwed.
"That you indeed are," Asami affirms matter-of-factly as she finishes removing Daisy's annoyingly tight-fitted bikini bottom, "and as such I'll be confiscating your swimsuit along with the rest of your belongings now; it's not like you'll be needing them anymore! That is excepting, of course, your towel, on which you're now going to lay yourself out so we can get your massage started."
She begins slowly withdrawing her weight from Daisy's posterior, freeing her to move again.
"No need to stand up, 'cause you'll just be going right back down, and permanently, at that." she advises as she then rolls out Daisy's pink beach blanket directly next to where she is currently sprawled face-down against the hot sand. "Simply roll over so I can look you in the eyes as I give you the full-body, full-bottle treatment, and I'll begin immediately."
Several seconds of silence and stillness elapse.
"Daisy," Asami chides her client as she uncaps her bottle and shifts into masseuse mode, "you said it yourself: it's over. Playing dead and trying to ignore this isn't gonna make me go away; far from it, and so I'd tell you not to invite another spanking onto yourself, but I'd honestly be thrilled to give you one if you were dumb enough to provoke my wrath a second time."
With great reluctance, Daisy does as she's told, rolling herself around leftward, away from her towel.
"…Right; now twice more, to your other left." Asami rectifies her instruction at this simple but awkward mistake.
Seconds later, Daisy comes to be all-but-perfectly positioned as she now lies centered upon her blanket, and Asami wastes not another second nor speaks another word before placing a pair of glisteningly drenched hands squarely around both of her victim's supple breasts. The long-pampered princess thusly squeals and squirms as her nude body is introduced to a luxury unlike anything she has ever experienced before; the last she'll ever enjoy and she'll be doing so all the way to sunkissed oblivion!
Once their respective lotionings are properly underway, neither Rosalina nor Daisy have much more to offer in the way of words; understandably so as they've both conversed with their executionesses at some length and been brought to terms (or as close to terms as they're ever realistically going to be) with their sentences ahead of their applications. It seems that the punished princesses can't think of anything further to say; several times more understandably still as they'll very shortly be unable to think altogether, and as uncontrollable pleasure ceaselessly courses into and throughout their oil-covered bodies, they appear to be taking the sensually escalating progression of what will be entailing the complete destruction of their minds within minutes just about as well as could reasonably be asked of women like them. As such, despite a lack of verbal articulation, they are anything but silent as they let out numerous, increasingly immodest sighs and moans throughout their concurrent punishment processes. Ultimately, it isn't too long before the rubdown-ravished royals reach a point of actively embracing their fate, coming to wholeheartedly enjoy their massages while no longer much minding their prospects of imminent death and subsequent eternal public humiliation as sexual objects preserved for others' depraved enjoyment. The latter sentiment in particular can be attributed to Daisy and Rosalina's wavering consciousnesses no longer having much mind capacity left to speak of at all as they soon come to be stimulated unto the thresholds of their final climaxes, upon whose consummations they will both blissfully drown in the pure, concentrated pleasure of lotioned sunbathing.
"Methinks you're looking just about ready to go gush for good, Rosie!" Korra excitedly compliments a delirious Rosalina on her tan, which indeed doesn't look like it'll be getting much darker than its current tone. "Should I go ahead and give you your finishing touches now?"
"Yaaaaaaaaahhh…" the profusely blushing, teary-eyed princess moans, as she has been on a constant basis for several minutes now; she is quite obviously too far gone to consciously notice, let alone intelligibly answer, her masseuse's prompt. Not about to have her fun spoiled by another's unresponsiveness, Korra pretends to hear the oblivious vocalization as the "yes" it conveniently happens to resemble, and so begins sliding her caress back down Rosalina's belly, past her navel and toward the quivering "lips" at the epicenter of her nether regions.
"Pucker up for the sunkiss of death, hot stuff!" she seductively whispers for her own amusement's sake as she prepares to apply the plunging final blow.
Just as her fingers are about to make contact with Rosalina's most sensitive of spots, however, Korra's thrill-of-the-kill momentary stupor is disrupted with thoughts of longer-term concerns, namely her present status as her own girlfriend's "bitch" and the possibility of regaining her former dignity by scoring a singularly historic kill for the Brigade, such as that of the realm's last living princess. Going against the habitual instincts telling her to give Rosalina a prompt pussy-polishing, the dominance-vying lifeguard pulls her hand away from her groin at the last second before a fatal orgasm's would-be triggering as turns and looks across to the site of Daisy's demise, courtesy of Asami.
"Yo Asami," Korra calls out, feigning confidence, "how's your princess-punishment progress going; is Daisy a done deal yet?"
"I'd be slacking on the job if she wasn't by now;" Asami answers, intentionally misinterpreting the question, "it's been some minutes since her body's absorbed enough lotion to secure the tanning process's irreversibility. Why do you ask; where do you stand with Rosalina's rubbing-out?"
"I… I've definitely gotten her past the point of no return as well;" Korra reports back, showing only the slightest hint of suspicious hesitation, "yes, Rosie's looking pretty ripe for a permanent beauty nap right about now."
"Well, then," Asami advises calmly, "you should help her ease into it, likewise right about now… Why, Korra," she remarks as she proceeds to turn and have herself a concerted look at where Rosalina's session stands, "that princess looks positively primed to pop! It'd be rude to keep her lingering on the brink of bursting like that for much longer at all…"
Korra awkwardly tries to avoid responding to this, continuing to gently massage the peripheries of Rosalina's body while ignoring her crotch even as it starts to "salivate", so to speak. The sweet spot has been teased so close to completion that for the presiding masseuse to delay its finishing now is indeed not only rude, but downright cruel, being which admittedly isn't necessarily forbidden by the Rubout Brigade's code of conduct for its agents, but even so: no responsible lifeguard should be stalling in this particular situation.
"What are you waiting for, Korra?" Asami implores again, now sounding more forceful as she makes her instruction explicit. "Fulfill your duty; scratch that itch 'til it's scratch one bitch!"
"Trust me, Asami:" Korra insists, "I know what I'm doing; Rosalina deserves the utmost severity of suffering possible before she gets to rest in peace, and I'm not about to let her off so easy!"
"Really, now;" Asami questions, growing openly incredulous, "you think so? By all accounts of these two's transgressions as I've studied them at vastly greater lengths than you have, Rosalina is the far lesser offender compared to Daisy here, whose experience I, as you can see, am leading her through toward its ultimate conclusion at a smooth rate of full-body escalation, just like a certified professional like myself ought to! She's feeling her comeuppance have its way long and slow, but not so sadistically as for it to be unsexy; I'm certainly not denying her a genitally-fingered dramatic finish after going out of my way to specially set her up for one, as I can clearly see you have with Rosie over there!"
Korra once again says nothing at this as she tries to disregard her partner's prying feedback while persisting in dilly-dallying with Rosalina, whose growing discomfort is starting to visibly surpass the peak of agony felt by the average suntan lotion recipient, with her eyes becoming bloodshot and her moaning shifting into far less pleasant grunting. If her pussy is not properly addressed within the next few minutes, she will spend that time suffocating in a manner that is traditionally reserved for only the absolute worst offenders to be subjected to, and even then is an exceedingly rare practice, not being a mandatory accentuation of the universal penalty in any circumstance.
"Korra, consider this an order from your superior:" Asami sternly issues the command, having none of her girlfriend's efforts to upstage her, "show Rosalina some mercy; finish off her pussy right now, or there will be consequences!"
Korra hesitates for only a few short seconds of internal deliberation before begrudgingly obliging. She thrusts her fingers inside Rosalina, who lets out a hearty moan of climactic release from her prior-mounting pain as her vital juices pour out in copious volumes through her gaping hole and her body rapidly convulses until it slow stiffens to a standstill, then abruptly falls eternally limp and flat against her towel. Were Rosalina to go through the exact same terminal motions to the end of joining her girlfriend in sunbathing instead of being left waiting for Daisy to join her, Korra would be absolutely ecstatic right now; as is, she derives likewise no pleasure at all from watching the end result of her handiwork come to fruition, having been soundly thwarted in her little ploy and being able to tell that Asami was aware of its plotting and deliberate in shutting it down.
"Fuck my life…" she mutters under her breath as she sits, pouting with arms crossed in her lap, beside Rosalina's tanned, glistening carcass, whose freshly-enhanced beauty she pays no attention to, instead watching Asami return her own full focus to Daisy's massage. To Korra's even greater chagrin, said massage goes on for quite a bit longer before Daisy lets out her sunkissed death-wail, having been skillfully stimulated to completion without penetrative fingering. According to how Korra perceives things, Asami has gone out of her way to demonstrate to her that she truly is better at this job, and that her gambit didn't even come close to succeeding as Daisy's execution outlasted Rosalina's by multiple minutes.
Korra's perception of things is, moreover, completely correct in this case.
"Goodnight, sour princess." Asami bids farewell to the latest member of her personally lotioned body count as she withdraws from Daisy's cutely sprawled corpse.
"Well, that was certainly a fun bit of justice-serving," she goes on to summarize the operation as she subsequently walks away from her slain target and towards her partner as she now addresses her, "and I imagine you must have enjoyed it even more, given your love of princess-polishing, and especially seeing as we've just taken care of the very last pair of claimants to such unlawful titles in the known realm! It's just a shame we'll never have another opportunity to rub out royalty again, for lack of any more qualifying villainesses… unless, of course, there are other princesses out there who've managed to elude the Brigade's radar… but then again, that would be rather paradoxical for a breed of women who always lived for the sake of attention above all else, wouldn't you agree?"
"Let's just go home…" Korra groans as she, still sitting in place, receives a lovingly degrading pat on the head.
"Bummed that your favorite type victim is now extinct, I take it?" Asami asks, feigning the naive assumption. "Just look at it this way, Korra:" she raises the point, "we've made history here today, you and I… well, actually just me, really, what with your Rosie being merely the penultimate princess to gush while my Daisy's tanning was the official end of their tyrannical kind. I guess that probably means I'll be garnering even more recognition in the near future with another landmark kill under my belt… isn't that great?"
"Yeah…" Korra sighs as she slowly stands herself back up, "yes, it's great, mistress. I'm proud to be your…"
She hesitates over how to finish this sentence.
"Go on, babe:" Asami implores, "say it like how you know it is."
"…Bitch." Korra concludes in no uncertain terms as she swallows her pride for good, accepting her rightful place beside her dominant lover, the superior lifeguard, lotioness and woman.
"Damn right you are," Asami affirms, "and there isn't a single other girl I'd trade you out for, my one and only beloved bitch for life!"
With this, she suddenly pulls Korra inward and forces her into a liplock of equal parts humiliation and affection.
Korra's first thought is of angrily protesting her present treatment, but she quickly discards it, knowing that she might as well get used to her freshly-cemented new role; now that she knows there's zero hope of her ever topping this relationship again, doing so starts to come naturally as she embraces Asami's kiss in bittersweet surrender.