The Princesses vs the Pirates
Preface: Several notes on this one, skip past italics to get to the actual story.
Politics Warning: Just a head's up, since folks can be sensitive to this kind of thing particularly if it happens to involve their own countries; this story features a couple of heroines themed around specific nations' iconography (*spoilers*) getting plowed. To be clear, no geopolitical message or what have you is intended (which obviously doesn't mean it's impossible to construct one, death of the author being what it is), it's just a superhero-porn thing. Plus at this point I've done several stories involving characters with American national or sub-national iconography getting railed, it's only fair a few others get a turn once in a while. That said, this doesn't mean there isn't still some quite blatant symbolism and allegory going on here, it's just targeting a, ah, rather different set of subject matter. Exactly what I mean by that is likely going to be obvious by the last few lines at the end, if not well before.
FYI for those who don't obsessively follow the comments to all of my works, aspects of this story were by reader request. Just to reiterate from that conversation; I don't normally have the ability to be this responsive, just because my writing process is far too chaotic. This was an unusually serendipitous situation. But I guess it never hurts to ask!
That said, while this started out as a simple find->replace to satisfy a particular pairing preference, it kind of expanded out in several areas in the course of revision. To quote George Lucas... I may have gone too far in some places. But... hell with it. Time and the comments section will tell.
Finally, all characters in this work are over the age of eighteen.
A long, sleek, and powerful speedboat slid smoothly through the deep blue sea of the South Pacific. The water was tranquil and blue. The weather was warm, clear, and calm. Two well-endowed and scantily-clad women lounged upon its deck, their large breasts sloshing in time to the rolling of the waves.
"Ah..." Princess Peace purred. Perched with her buxom ass only half-on the pilot's seat, she lazily steered with one hand, the other holding her drink. Blonde hair flowing around her shoulders, her ample body strained at the confines of her Swedish Flag bikini. "Now, this..." she purred, taking a sip before lowering her glass back down, "is my kind of crime-fighting!"
"Oui..." Princess Glory sighed softly, from where she lounged upon a towel. Clad in her own blue, white and red tricolor bikini, the French superheroine wiggled her ample bottom back and forth in her skimpy patriotic sheath while, her top open, she let the sun sink into the bare flesh of her back. Her long chocolate-brown hair was done up in elaborate braids, to help keep it off her back. Her drink was half-finished beside her... a fact she would have to rectify soon.
Then, lifting her gorgeous head, Princess Glory switched to a fetchingly accented English - which, though neither beauty's native tongue, was the best mutual language they both shared.
"I do wish, however," she said, "that we had been able to bring the bigger boat..."
Swirling her drink, Princess Peace smiled back. "What need?" she asked. Steering idly with just a couple gloved fingers of one hand, she gestured the other across the expanse of glowing ocean and sleek sun-baked deck all around her. "This one has everything a super-lady could want! Besides, it was the only one already in the correct position."
"Mmm..." Princess Glory murmured. She did not sound convinced. But, unwilling to continue the argument when she had better things to do, she turned her head, put it back down between her arms and, big round tricolor-clad bubble-butt once more wiggling gloriously behind her, settled back in to get some more sun.
The Vexillum Pacis - roughly translated 'Standard Bearers of Peace', usually referred to as the 'Pax Vex' for short, or just 'Peace Force' in English - were by design one of the leading superteams in the world. Literally designed. While many of the details of their creation were secret, even from them, it was known at this point that their code names were neither accidental nor entirely apocryphal. Though they would appear on no official line of succession, multiple royal bloodlines had been carefully combined together to create each of them - a necessary measure, to allow them to interface with the artifacts that granted them their powers.
Princess Peace, the prototype, was the oldest and therefore leader, with an acknowledged age of twenty-five. Her name referred to the fact wherever she and her girls went peace would follow - one way or another. Princess Glory was part of the second batch, drawing on countries with large numbers of bloodlines available; a group that also included Princess Unity, Princess Honor, and Princess Defiant. A third batch was on the way up, but they had just barely turned eighteen and were mostly still considered 'in-training'.
That all of the products of the program to date were female was often remarked upon - whether this was a necessary part of the process, a deliberate choice, or due to something else, was as yet not public knowledge. That they all followed typical superheroine fashion conventions, i.e. wearing as little as possible as a sign that they were above such concerns, was also very avidly noted. But then it's not like that didn't cut both ways. Jock Justice flew around in very little but his cape and eponymous strap after all - much to many superheroines' secret delight.
As they steered and relaxed upon their boat, the two heroines were in full costume. In addition to their bikinis, these consisted of gloves and boots in colors to match their flag-themed bikinis, plus gleaming tiaras upon their brows. Each also had a glittering ring upon one finger: Princess Peace's bore a three-pointed crown, and Princess Glory's a fleur-de-lis. Though barely visible in the bright sun, these rings glowed softly with a faint blue light.
Despite their relaxing surroundings, however, the two heroines were not on a pleasure cruise. More like a pleasure patrol.
"Keep your eyes and ears opened," Princess Peace reminded her extremely nominal subordinate. "Remember, this matter is quite serious. That boat full of touristic college girls didn't just vanish into nowhere. So make sure you are scanning the horizon."
"Oui," Princess Glory said. She kept to herself the opinion that they had probably just all stopped somewhere undeclared, in order to fuck around without their boyfriends knowing. Lifting up her gorgeous head, she turned it first one way and then the other, taking in the flat blue line that appeared all around them. Then, she put her head back down. "There, I have scanned it," she said, her tricolor-clad butt wiggling once more with relish.
Princess Peace's lip quirked up. "Rövhål," she purred, amused.
"Ferme ta gueule," Princess Glory murmured back, not lifting her head.
But there had of course been a reason that brought the two glorious superheroines to this particular patch of the remote South Pacific. In truth, there had been strange disappearances in the area for some time; but only the most recent one, involving as it did several pretty blonde white girls, had forced a response from more distant powers.
Initial fears had been that the naughty nautical menace known as the Leviathan was involved... but then sensor contacts put his super-submarine off the coast of Beachport, thousands of miles away. Current reports out of Papeete named the most likely culprit one Zheng One-Eye, a low level pirate with at most a few small craft to his name. No real threat, certainly, to the real powers of the world. But the local authorities, including the small group of regular patrol boats already based out of French Polynesia, appeared stretched too thin to deal with him effectively. Something, it was insisted, had to be done.
