Icy Discipline 3

I didn’t waste much time in the bedroom, just played around a bit with the central management system, one that was designed for the admin to manage every aspect of the outpost, and temporarily cut the hot water just in case they decided to poke around and see it was just an angry bluff. 

I considered cutting off the internet as well to drive my revenge further, but then decided against it. Not because of any sense of mercy, but because the storm was going to hit in less than thirty minutes. 

And with the storm, there would be no communication. 

After making a few smaller changes, I changed into a shirt-shorts combo, and went to the small corner of the office I arranged into a gym. Nothing particularly fancy, a space for pushups, a mat, a couple kettlebells and dumbells, and a bar for pull-ups. 

That was all I could arrange with the limited personal weight allowance they gave us. 

I was halfway into my exercise when Cathy stepped out of her room, still wearing her cold-resistant shirt, but her pants were gone, revealing her spectacular legs for my pleasure. It was not my habit to do catcalls. I thought of them as crass. 

So, if someone asked whether I was almost about to deliver one, I would simply lie and felt no inclination. 

Even sadder, the only thing that allowed me to pull my gaze after a glimpse was the layer of smugness behind her innocent gaze, showing that she was very much aware of the impact her naked legs would create, counting on them as revenge. 

And, I was just vindictive enough to avoid the beautiful sight just to make her little objective fail. 

The confirmation of success came quickly as I watched her from the corner of my eye, frustration invading her beautiful face.

Which, against my expectation, made her even sexier. 

Not exactly the most amazing things to experience after living alone for several weeks, without even porn to make things fun — as the internet connection was severely limited and constantly observed, considering that the data we collected was precious enough to make espionage a possibility. 

And, I didn’t think about bringing a flash disk filled with porn, a fact that the old man mocked me ceaselessly even as he waited for the medical extraction. 

The pain was, as always, a good distraction, so I grabbed the bar and started doing pull-ups even faster, the agony invading my arms and back. “How … can I … help you?” I asked. 

“I need some clothes,” she said. “I don’t have anything with me, and it doesn’t help that this ridiculous undershirt is annoyingly itchy,” she murmured as she grabbed the side of her shirt and lifted a bit, enough to give a glimpse of her panties, enough to confirm that, unlike the rest of her clothing, they were quite sexy. 

A lacy dark red piece that contrasted greatly against her skin, more optimized to enhance her beauty rather than coverage. 

A masterful performance, I thought. If I hadn’t seen her earlier expression, I might have been convinced that it was an accidental performance, and that she was as silly as she was trying to convey. Yet, analyzed under the light of her earlier performance, it was clear that she was teasing me intentionally. 

Noticing her trick didn’t suddenly turn it ineffective, as I learned in the form of a stirring in my core. After one last pull-up, and threw me on the floor, and started doing push-ups to hide a certain part of my anatomy from her, not willing to give her the satisfaction. 

“Give me fifteen minutes for me to finish my workout,” I said. 

“Fifteen minutes,” she murmured uneasily, reacting intensely at my rejection, shocking me. 

It wasn’t the intensity of her rejection that surprised me. After all, she was a beautiful model at the height of her career, which meant that rejection was not something she faced often. What surprised me was the nature of her reaction, the sudden disappearance of her confidence, the tremble in her tone. 

The display would have been enough to make me pity her if her appearance didn’t ruin the experiment I was doing my best to set up, making the rest of my work pointless.

“Yes, fifteen minutes,” I answered brazenly instead, not even stopping my push-ups. “Why, do you have an event you need to catch up on?” 

I expected her to react to my anger hard, but instead, she stammered softly. “S-sure, I’ll wait,” she stammered as she looked down, shocking me with her obedience. That expression didn’t last for long, soon replaced by a frustrated expression as she turned and left, but it still left me with a curious impression. 

One advantage of her retreat, it created an excellent view, one that I had no problems watching considering she was looking at the other side, the current angle as I was doing push-ups only enhanced the view. 

Interestingly, I was fascinated by the way she was walking, almost as much as I was fascinated by the beautiful sight of her naked legs. At first, her steps were soft, and hesitant, like she was a student that had been just admonished by her favorite teacher, but their nature changed halfway, gaining a sharp quality, one that somehow gave me a sense of danger. 

She clearly wanted to make me pay. 

Though, as she went to her room and disappeared behind the door, only to leave the door open, only for the top that she was wearing a second ago to fly into my field of view, landing on the floor. 

Beautiful, but not as beautiful as the bra that followed, red and lacy, this time landing on top of her bed, her panties joining a second later.  

Or the sight of her beautiful body, hidden behind a poorly-wrapped towel as she lay on the bed soon after her provocative strip. The towel barely hangs on her body, looking one wrong move away from turning it into a scandal. 

I bit my lips as I struggled to keep my gaze limited to occasional glances, recognizing that it was a ploy for payback. 

And, I was just stubborn enough to focus not giving her that satisfaction. 

Of course, if I tried to tell someone else, they would just assume that it was all in my mind. After all, why would one of the most famous fashion models work hard to tease a poor post-doc? 

I might have even agreed with their hypothetical counter-arguments if it wasn’t for her next move. As she failed to notice my gaze, she started shuffling on the bed ‘carelessly’, each move straining the hold of her towel even more…

Yet, not once failing to dislodge completely. 

Almost like a professional, I thought before I corrected my thoughts. She was a professional model, and teasing the people with pieces of clothing tethering on the edge of the collapse was literally her job description. 

A job that was probably allowing her to earn somewhere between a hundred and a thousand times my own job, it occurred to me with a sudden realization, ruining my good mood. 

I started pushing myself harder and harder, adding claps to my push-ups, each echoing in the room as I looked at the floor, determined not to catch her gaze, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of success. 

The ridiculous nature of our societal priorities was not her fault, of course, but at this moment, I wasn’t in a particularly charitable mood. My intellectual frustration with my ruined experiment, combined with my physical one, enhanced by the show I was receiving, screwed my mood intensely. 

I channeled that frustration to my exercise, pushing myself harder and harder despite the pain gathering around my arms.

As I shifted back to pull-ups, I noticed Cathy was not on the bed anymore, and instead walking toward me with steady steps, each step making her towel slip down a little more, enhancing her already spectacular cleavage further, enough to give a small glimpse of her beautiful areolas. 

It took all my willpower not to bite my lips, which would reveal just how much I was enjoying the view. I was a competitive man, not enough to give her what she wanted. 

“Do I still have to wait for long?” she whispered throatily as she stood in front of me. “After today’s excitement, I need to relax a bit.” 

“Unless you can magically make the water warm, you’re going to wait,” I said. I wasn’t trying to sound angry, just loud, but considering I was in the middle of an intense exercise routine, it came out like an angry growl. 

And, just like that, her confidence shattered once more, replaced by cute obedience. I particularly enjoyed her flinch, mostly because of the great impact it had on her spectacular breasts.  

Still, I had to admit, I was shocked by her response. 

I was not a virgin, not even close — as people wildly underestimated the amount of sex that happened in the science community. The college itself housed a surprising number of affairs already. 

The number of doctorate students or professors that ‘accidentally’ misplace their wedding rings during scientific conferences would be enough to shock any outsider. 

No, I was shocked, because for better or worse, most of the women that were adventurous enough to leverage such opportunities during conferences had some shared qualities, confidence being one of them, despite usually lacking what people might describe as an amazing physique. 

Especially compared to the beautiful supermodel in front of me, but none of them withered like her at the slightest hint of rejection. 

How interesting, I thought, a dark whisper asking me to test just how deep her insecurity ran…