Rarity is a longtime veteran of many a deadly contest from all of which she’s (obviously, given her presence here and now) emerged triumphant and untanned, always standing proudly and provocatively over the freshly sunkissed bodies of her vanquished rivals in the end, and in light of her numerous past victories the self-styled and officially-so-titled (several times over) beach beauty queen fancies herself to be at an experience-based advantage over most of her friends and enemies alike as she heads out into the fray of the ultimate suntan showdown against Sunset Shimmer and her gang of fellow villainesses. Rarity is fairly confident in her own survival prospects as well as utterly assured of her ability to do more than her fair part in terms of kills, even in the event that she herself does end up on the receiving end of a suntan lotion rubdown in the process, a sacrifice she will be reluctant but ultimately willing to make so long as she’ll have taken one or more opponents with her. In particular, she has high hopes of being the one to personally rub out Trixie, her most hated of the six enemy hotties whose lethal tricks have - unfairly-so in Rarity’s eyes - claimed the lives of more than a few fellow beauty aspirants whom she’d have loved to strut her stuff against on the even grounds of the pageant stage before lovingly securing sexy permanent victory over them herself. What Rarity fails to understand, however, is that every girl in her personal body count met a luxurious end at her hands based on non-forceful peer judgments which sealed all of those girls’ fates; all of them willingly, if begrudgingly, submitted themselves to lotioning by the common winner of the contests they’d lost and thus forfeited their lives to the lethal elimination rituals thereof, per the rules and customs of said high-stakes beauty pageants from which only one surviving championess is ever allowed to walk away. She has never actually caught a girl off-guard in the open and nullified a physically active immediate resistance on her part, as is the method of murder-massage Rarity will need to put into effective practice here if she’s to get very far at all before ending up on the receiving end of a suntan lotion massage.
 
The aforementioned Trixie, meanwhile, and while not as honed an assassin as certain others among both her allies and targets on the suntan showdown stage, has quite a fair bit more experience than her most intimate rival when it comes to turning unsuspecting girls into sexy sunbathers by force, given the various magically-assisted means by which she’s brought less-than-willing audience members at her shows up onstage for stylishly summery execution, as well as her general illusionary prowess that can prove highly useful as far as getting the jump on one’s targeted prey goes. Case in point as the scene of the tanning tournament’s second exquisite elimination begins to play out, Rarity is prowling about on careful patrol, making an effort to continually check her surroundings for any sign of enemy girls in need of permanent lotion rubs and out to inflict the same fate on her should she fail to take them out first, when out of nowhere insomuch as she can tell in the moment, a blindingly bright set of colorful lights ignite across the field a short distance in front of her, looking like fireworks and startling the beachgoing bombshell, who makes herself stop so abruptly in her tracks as to lose her balance and fall back hindquarters-first, ass-planting squarely on the ground. As she tries to reorient herself, Rarity’s alarmed confusion turns to horror, signified by a hearty gasp upon her realization that she has become seated not in hot sand but upon an oversized beach towel which she herself most definitely did not place there. Glancing downward, her terror is amplified by the sight of a pattern other than that of her own personal towel, and moreover quickly recognizable as being affiliated to a certain very specific someone.
 
“Oh no!” Rarity yells out loud as she immediately tries to stand herself up from this evident beach blanket deathtrap, only to find herself unable as she is magically compelled to remain seated against her will, no doubt by way of some devious enchantment applied to the towel beforehand in preparation for her assassination. Sooner than the captive beauty queen can process any other thought, let alone somehow find a way out of her predicament, the very next thing Rarity feels is a pair of oiled hands grabbing her shoulders from behind and proceeding to slide themselves forward and inward around her collar, briefly reaching a gripping position around the base of her throat, before making their way downward onto her bare chest and shapely boobies which they cup themselves around in short order.  
“Hello, Rarity.” Trixie seductively and teasingly greets her prey, looking down while Rarity in turn looks up to be met with the sight of her grinning face looming above her own. “An impressive little trick, wouldn’t you say? I’ve been practicing how I’d pull it off ever since Sunset arranged with your bitch leader to set up this sexy showdown we’re all caught up in now, and every time I set off the spell, I always pictured my target as none other than you… but I honestly didn’t expect I’d be so lucky as to actually get to use it on you, let alone this early on and this easily!”  
“Oh, goddesses…” Rarity mutters despairingly, “you got me! I’m finished!” she laments melodramatically.
 
“That, you most definitely are!” Trixie assures her victim as she continues groping and squeezing her captivated breasts, intent on taking her time with this, her most personally invested kill ever which she knows may quite likely also be her last ever considering the remaining possibility that Rarity might be avenged before the larger engagement is over. “I’d tell you not to take it personally, like I do for most of the girls I snuff at my shows, but there’s no point in lying: I’ve been dreaming of this day since the day I first caught sight of you and heard of your pageant escapades! I must admit, your beauty career record is genuinely impressive; you’ve rubbed out quite a few certified hotties! How many was it, exactly; sixteen, if I hadn’t lost track?”  
“Seventeen…” Rarity replies matter-of-factly, “every one of them a better woman than you!”  
“Oh, wow;” Trixie scoffs with delight, “that’s just perfect, because as fate has it, you, Miss Rarity, are about to become the eighteenth girl to sunbathe in my personal body count! Oh, goddesses… it makes this whole experience even more satisfying, knowing that even if one of your girlfriends does manage to lotion me up later today, I’ll still always outdo you as a deadly diva! Now, you should know that I’ve made sure to never forget any of my hot kills; I can remember all of their names, and the faces they wore as I rubbed them down and they realized they were done for, and I must say: so far, your massage is shaping up to be just about the sexiest I’ve ever inflicted!”  
The illusionist squeezes the tips of the beauty queen’s erected and swollen nipples before finally moving her hands off of Rarity’s breasts and progressing down from her chest onto her belly and sides with her rubdown.
 
“My word…” Rarity exclaims embarrassedly, her full-face blush intensifying. “Well, I can’t say I exactly had big long-term plans for my life, now that it’s all over; I always more-or-less expected it that some other up-and-coming beauty would finally outdo me on the pageant state someday, but I’d imagined my lotioning would at least be a bit more dignified than this… although, seeing as you can recognize what a hot time you’re having doing me in, I also can’t say you aren’t giving me credit where it’s due.”  
“Well now, I can see that you’re a realist, right up to the sexy end!” Trixie remarks at this reflection. “I’d honestly have preferred it if you’d proven the type to struggle and protest against your suntanning, but just as well, I won’t just-as-pointlessly protest your declining to do so.”  
“Ah… oh, ah…” Rarity finds herself panting as the lotioning spreads to her outspread inner thighs, grazing her exposed groin which she knows will soon be revisited as the site of her execution’s grand finale, so to speak. “Look… if you wouldn’t mind me making a perfectly reasonable final request before I start losing my own mind… could you please just let me sunbathe on my own towel? There’s a reason I designed it the way I did to complement my style in anticipation for the day this would happen, and my corpse just wouldn’t look as beautiful laid out across yours like this…”
 
“I can understand your concern,” Trixie acknowledges the reasonability of this request, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, babe: as we speak, all of my voluptuous victims lay sprawled against the backdrop of my patented star design; I want to make sure the world always knows exactly who made sunbathing beauties out of them, and suffice to say, your case is the very opposite of an exception as far as that desire goes!”  
“Oh, I figured as much… you bitch… aah, oh my…!” Rarity halfheartedly laments, biting her lip as it is quite apparent her mind is beginning to fade, all while her skin, the majority whose surface is covered by now, is likewise beginning to become increasingly bronzed.  
“Ah, Rarity:” Trixie taunts soothingly, “finally starting to embrace your erotic end, I can plainly see and very much appreciate! Just relax now, and let Trixie suntan you…”  
The sorceress then has herself another go-round of Rarity’s body, still intent on prolonging the process while keeping her victim alive for as long as reasonably possible before finishing her off, such is her immense personal enjoyment of the whole ordeal.  
“Ooooh, you’re gonna get suntanned for suntanning me, you know…” the defeated diva meanwhile groans out her final coherent words before devolving fully into incoherent moaning with her vocalizations throughout the remainder of her execution.
 
“Yeah, we’ll see about that soon enough,” Trixie dismisses this parting threat as she gets ready to carry out the climax of her signature massage treatment, “but for now and forevermore, Rarity, it’s time for you to enjoy your well-earned beauty sleep!”  
With that, the illusionist ecstatically places her lotioned hands directly upon Rarity’s fully bared crotch, instantly bringing her victim’s moaning to new heights of intensity, and that much happens before she even commences the active pussy-rubbing, whereupon the sunkissed hottie’s exclamations go absolutely wild as she begins suffering the devastating, mind-obliterating initial waves of her final climax. Taking advantage of the quivering private folds’ concurrent, fluid-releasing parting, Trixie accentuates the final moments of Rarity’s life with a round of vigorous fingering which ultimately persists for a fair bit past the termination of her helplessly overwhelmed, uncontrollable cries, as well as of her bodily convulsions, heartbeat and brainwaves, before finally ceasing as the dead girl is released from her masseuse’s arms and left laying flatly and limply upon the latter’s towel, her pretty face profusely, permanently blushing with mouth agape and pupils rolled upward into the inside of her head. Trixie wishes she could afford to stay and play with Rarity’s body for at least a bit longer than she does, just as she wishes her usual crowd of fans was present to cheer her on over her latest sexy kill, but the reality is that there remains a miniature war raging around her, and she must do everything in her power to keep contributing to the effort of making sure the late beauty queens’ girlfriends will all be sharing her fate in short order!