Icy Discipline 9

Carly’s agent followed her initial question with a detailed schedule, speaking without interruption. 

And, I used the opportunity to move Carly to a more fun location. After I finished drying her, I wrapped the towel around her — but just to her waist, leaving her beautiful tits naked for my own gratification before I put my hands on the small of her back, gently leading her forward. 

I wanted to give an intimate show if Maria was observing us, wanting to trigger her jealousy even more. Pity, she wasn’t around to see that. 

Distracted by her agent’s explanation, Carly didn’t even notice I was leading her to my room rather than hers, even when I closed the door behind her. 

I left her alone for a moment, because I wanted to deliver the next part of the prank on Maria. I remember her scared reaction as I mentioned the potential for the storm to get stronger. I quickly dashed to the storage room and dislodged the same noise-isolating piece that was unstable due to my old roommate’s intervention. 

And just like that, the sound of wind intensified into an explosion, reminding me of the intensity of the storm outside, and just how scary nature could be in the middle of Antarctica. 

The corridor wasn’t as loud, but still, the change was considerable. The constant background noise was annoying, certainly not something I would suffer for more than a day — or two at most — but considering it gave me a chance to mess with my forceful guest, I was willing to suffer it for a day. 

When I returned to my room, Carly was already sitting on my bed, her full attention on the explanation of her agent. She was even taking notes in the notebook I kept on my bedside — in case inspiration hit in the middle of the night — which showed that she was treating her agent’s words very seriously. 

“Why are you here?” she asked while her agent continued to speak, suggesting that she was focused enough that she was yet to notice it was my room. 

“Because it’s my room,” I answered, more than happy to give her that information, amused by the way she looked around in shock. 

Even more amused by the way she wrapped her arm around her chest, just realizing her state of undress. 

A whimper escaped her mouth as I walked closer, her attention slipping away from her agent. “W-what are you doing,” she whispered. 

“Making sure you’re properly dry, of course,” I said as I pulled her towel away, and replicated the trick I pulled on the bathroom, but this time without the towel to restrain my touch. 

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, her agent helped me. “Are you listening,” she said. 

“Y-yeah, of course. Continue,” Carly answered automatically as she pressed the button. I waited until her finger lifted to continue caressing her legs, teasing her inner thighs. Which proved to be a good choice, as she let out an explosive moan, proving that, while her amazing breasts were the most sensitive part of her body, they were hardly the only aspects of her body with spectacular sensitivity. 

The poor girl was split between suppressing her moans — very unsuccessfully, I might add — and listening to her agent’s detailed directives, doing her best to note her directives between her moans. 

Moans got stronger and stronger as I climbed higher up on her beautiful body. The only compromise I did was to bypass her core, and this time, it was not about fear, but leaving it to the proper time. Instead, I caressed her smooth belly, enjoying the contrast between her soft skin and surprisingly tight core underneath. 

She let a relaxed sigh between her moans as I bypassed her core, so much that she failed that my inevitable target was her breasts, though she realized that the moment I teased her nipples, her beautiful body stiffened. 

I stayed on her breasts, enjoying her growing arousal, treating her sensitivity as an easy mood. “Please,” she gasped as her agent continued to speak in the background. “I — I need to listen to her, or she’ll get angry.” 

“As you wish,” I said as I let my hands climb up, but her glee was short-lived as I grabbed her hips and flipped her. She found herself lying on my bed, her face buried in the bed. “Let me help you,” I said as I took the pen from her hand, and put the notebook on her back. 

My right hand was busy taking note of her explanation while my left one focused on her ass, caressing its wide expanse, enjoying the way she trembled under my fingers. 

“Don’t move,” I warned her, my tone once again stiff enough to freeze her, while my left hand delivered a loud spank on her ass, even harder than the previous punishment, echoing against the walls. 

And, she just lay there obediently. 

However, unlike the previous time, I didn’t bother concealing the next move of my fingers, caressing the area they had just landed before slipping into her wetness, and making her moan. 

“That’s too—“ she started, only to receive another spank.

“Don’t move, you’re going to ruin the notes,” I warned. As far as excuses go, that was one of the more pointless and mercurial ones. But at this point, they didn’t have to be actually real. Just the tone was enough to keep her immobile, the constant rambling of her agent making her even more obedient than usual. 

Even as my fingers explored her most sacred spot. 

Pity my hand was still busy taking notes, limiting my actions, but luckily, it was something I could do without distracting myself too much from my real task. A life filled with education — high school, college, master's degree, and a five-year doctorate, not to mention the events and conferences I attended as a post-doc — made sure that note-taking was an activity as automatic as breathing… 

Allowing me to give the proper focus on the trembling beauty under my fingers, each second pushing her closer to a climax. 

Her moan gained an even more beautiful quality as I shifted my position, and put my weight over hers, but the panicked whisper that she let out didn’t surprise me the slightest. 

“I’m a virgin,” she gasped. 

After her reaction to my touch, it was rather unsurprising, but I didn’t tell her that, feeling she might find it insulting no matter how I phrase it. And the situation was simply too beautiful to ruin it. 

“And, would you like to graduate from that status,” I whispered as I pressed my shaft against her entrance, but stayed at the entrance. “I promise it would be fun.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. 

“Oh, really?” I asked, finding her selection of words interesting, especially since I could feel the lack of conviction behind the answer. “Religious reasons?” I added. 

“N-no,” she whispered. “Margaret says that as a model, my reputation of purity helps me to become globally famous.” 

“Interesting,” I said, not bothering to ask who Margaret was, as she had turned toward the walkie-talkie as she said that. Considering the extreme authority her agent was displaying over her life, not surprising either. “But you know that actual purity and illusion of purity are two different things. I’m sure a smart girl like you would be more than capable enough to fake that for the camera? Am I right?” 

“M-maybe,” she whispered, her stammer getting even more as I changed my position, my shaft sliding between her thighs repeatedly rather than sliding inside. 

No matter how tempting it was, I didn’t want to do it without her express permission. Of course, I didn’t stop either, as I actually wanted to convince her for that decision. “This should be alright, right?” I added. 

“Y-yes,” she whispered before falling silent, enjoying my treatment, pushing her closer and closer to a climax. 

But not letting her arrive, she realized after five minutes of torturous dance. Ironically, it was a point of pride for me that I didn’t stop taking notes — though I was impressed by just how long her agent could drone on without a response. “P-please,” she whispered. “I need to…” 

I chuckled as she failed to ask for a climax explicitly, feeling too shy to do so even as she lay under me, wet and naked. 

“Do you want me to take that last step,” I asked. 

“I … can’t,” she whispered, but even the sliver of conviction she managed to infect earlier was one. She was begging me to convince her. “She will be … angry,” she added. There was no doubt about who she referred. 

“What’s she going to do, visit us,” I said as I reached the walkie-talkie, and flipped it close. Since it was connected to the central system, no warning directly went to the other side. Only after she would ask another question, she would realize there would be no answer. 

“Now, what’s your decision?” I asked.

She didn’t say anything, nor that she needed to. Not when she aligned herself and pushed back…