The Floggings Will Continue...

"See," said Cherie from somewhere behind us, "you were at one another's throats just a couple of hours ago, and now you're playing together so nicely."

I'd shut my eyes to focus on the feel of Sigrid's body and the sound of her breath, so I was quite unprepared when I felt a tongue on my fingers. Not for my benefit, mind; Kelly was teasing Sigrid's clit with her tongue at the same time that I was working it with my fingers.

"Oh, fuck," said Sigrid. "Tim, are you ready?"

"Yes. Fuck, I don't have a condom."

"Good thing one of us believes in being prepared. One moment." She disengaged and wriggled off me, crawled over to her handbag next to the beanbag, and retrieved a small plastic square. She tossed it to me, and I broke my personal speed record in opening the packaging and sliding it on.

Sigrid crouched astride me, and took my cock in hand, and positioned the tip against her. I pushed up, and there was a moment of pressure—she was very wet, but so tight—and then I was in her. She settled down against me, and lay back like she had been.

"As you were, please. Both of you." She tugged my hand back down to her clit, and Kelly went back to licking her, and she ground and gyrated slowly against me.

"Now," said Ashley, "Alistair's going to recite all the constructive feedback you've been giving him, so that you know he's heard it and taken it on board! And that will bring us to the end of a very productive afternoon."

The partnership between my cock and Kelly's tongue didn't work quite as well as before. I think my cock was a little too close for Kelly's comfort, and Sigrid must have realised the same thing, for she reached down and pulled Kelly up to lie face-to-face with her. "That's fine, love. This is all good." Sigrid had her arms wrapped around Kelly, and Kelly hugged us both, and our legs were all tangled together as I moved slowly inside Sigrid.

"Don't stop, Tim. Don't stop..."

I was in heaven, but I couldn't stay there forever. I was supporting Sigrid's weight, and much of Kelly's, and it had been a long day. I moved with her for as long as I could, until I felt my energy starting to fade, and then I picked up the pace.

"Mmm, yes." We twisted around so that we were on our sides, and that gave me the freedom to go harder. I could feel myself building, swelling; I had my hands on her hips now, and somebody—maybe Kelly, maybe Sigrid—was fingering her. "Yes, yes, yes."

I felt her spasm around me, and that brought me to my own climax, and then I collapsed.

* * * * *

The evidence indicates that we retrieved our clothes—except for one sock which I never did get back—and I have hazy memories of a big group debrief.

Cherie said something about our success in harnessing the power of oxytocin to reverse a negative dynamic. Kathleen explained to us all that her son had a heroin problem, and that was why she'd forgotten to pass on Margaret's message, and Margaret publicly forgave her. There were tears on both sides. The bit about Alistair went on forever, and I tuned it out as best I could. Somewhere in there the Enya finally stopped.

Ashley wrapped it up. "Thank you all for putting your trust in us today. I hope what you've learned today will change how you work together as a team. I'm not able to join you for the return trip, but Cherie and Derek will get you back to the office. And we're done!"

* * * * *

The bus trip back was very, very quiet. Kelly and Sigrid and I sat together at the back, not because we were feeling amorous, but because none of us wanted to deal with the rest of the group. We might have exposed ourselves, literally and figuratively, but we'd also marked ourselves as outsiders. We were also quite tired, especially Sigrid. She spent much of the journey sleeping sprawled across us.

Alistair sat very uncomfortably. He looked at nobody, and nobody looked at Alistair.

In that windowless room, Ashley had somehow annulled the normal rules of human behaviour, the manners and mores that keep our animalistic urges in check. But now they were creeping back.

Shame was in the air.

After thirty-odd minutes of uncomfortable silence, the bus pulled in at the JCN offices. Cherie, who'd been sitting quietly at the front, stood up and beamed at us all.

"Thanks everybody for joining us today. You all put so much into today's activities! And don't forget your things as you leave!" She held out the sack where we'd put our phones at the start of the day.

We filed out, one by one, and Cherie shook everybody's hands as she handed them their phones. I was among the last, and I felt that she gave me an extra-wide smile as she said farewell. "Well done today, Timothy! I hope you'll get a lot out of what you learned!"

I stepped off the bus, switching my phone back on as I got out, sticking close to Kelly and Sigrid. My colleagues were standing around looking dazed, or drifting towards their cars. But Alistair was already on his phone.

"...are you talking about? That's where we've been all day!"

The bus doors closed with a pneumatic hiss.

"Yes, the team-building retreat. With Doctor Marchand... no, Versatile Corporate Dynamics. Corporate."

The engine grumbled to life.

Alistair's eyes widened, and he stared at the logo on the side. "No, not 'Cognitive'. 'Corporate', I said... what?"

The bus pulled away, slow at first, but quickly accelerating until it was out of sight, and I saw the blood draining from Alistair's face. "I'll call you back."

"We never did tally up the final points," somebody said.

On Monday I did some research online. There was indeed a "Versatile Cognitive Dynamics" listed, specialising in occupational psychology and team-building retreats, but I could find no record that "Versatile Corporate Dynamics" had ever existed, nor that there was any such person as Dr. Ashley Marchand.

A week later, a parcel arrived in the mail. There was no return address, but a note in neat handwriting said "Equal first: Team Green and Team Blue." Below that, wrapped in bubble-wrap, were ten cheap little plastic trophies, each engraved: "For Participation".

There was no return address.

* * * * *

Things fell apart. I have no doubt Ashley knew how it would play out. Bonding through shared transgression may be a good foundation for a cult or a crime family, but it's not a winning recipe for an IT company.

Alistair had taken his licks, and that may have created some temporary relief. But he was still incompetent, and now he knew that we knew and we knew that he knew. Besides, it's hard to impose discipline on a team who've stood in line to flog you.

There were too many elephants in the room. If we had been reluctant to talk about our problems before the retreat, we were even less willing to discuss them now, not after what had happened. The Paradigm Reimagination Group went on making the same mistakes, and eventually the whole project got shelved when Barron beat us to market.

I hear Alistair took early retirement, but by that stage the damage was already done. I'd already left—ironically enough, poached by Barron, who offered me a substantial raise and found a lawyer to poke holes in my non-compete agreement. And I no longer had to wonder when my co-workers were thinking about the time they'd seen me naked.

Sigrid and Kelly got out soon after I did, Kelly to a small web design company and Sigrid to a publishing outfit.

JCN brought in a new office manager, but she couldn't fix things because nobody would talk to her about The Incident. It didn't help that she put up one of those cutesy "The Floggings Will Continue Until Morale Improves" signs on her desk. In the end, I think they closed the office down altogether and redeployed people elsewhere, those who hadn't already escaped.

They never did catch the Milk Bandit.

Still, not everything fell apart. I hear Kathleen and Margaret stayed friends. As for us...

* * * * *

"So what did you say to him?"

"I said I'd had some bad experiences with team-building events, so maybe it would be better if somebody else handled that. I foresee a sick day in my future."

"Good planning." It was almost my stop. I leaned in and kissed her, and one of our fellow passengers tsk-tsk-ed. "Well, have fun at Kelly's, and I guess I'll see you in a week."

She squeezed me tight. "Of course you will. By the way, can we swap weeks next month? It's Kel's birthday and she wants to take me to a place at the coast for a few days."

"Sure, no problem. Email me the dates."

"Thanks, you're the best. Oh, and you should come around for dinner with us some time."

"Love to. Any particular reason?"

"I bought some new furniture I want you to try out."

I looked blank.

"Give you a clue. It's full of beans and it's got room for three." She winked at me, and then it really was my stop. The doors opened and the morning crowds carried her away from me for another week.

* * * * *

One last thing. I never told Sigrid or Kelly about this.

Some years after I joined Barron Software, they flew me to the head office in San Francisco for a planning day. I was walking down a corridor deep in conversation with one of my NY colleagues when somebody passing me in the other direction said "Hello, Timothy."

By the time I turned, she was disappearing into a meeting room. But I caught a glimpse of her. The charcoal business suit, the half-moon glasses. A red ID badge that just said CONTRACTOR.

And then she was gone.

* * * * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please vote and feel free to leave feedback. Thanks to AwkwardMD, LaRascasse, and my partner for beta-reading.

This story was inspired by an ad from a company that runs "cuddle a co-worker" team-building sessions. Betcha thought I made that bit up!