Free Soft Skills by Cleo Peitsche

When Elle stepped off the elevator, she was still beaming. The client loved her work. The word “genius” had been bandied about, and while she knew that was an exaggeration, she soaked up the enthusiastic praise.  
    This was the first large ad design project she’d directed on her own. She’d fought hard for the responsibility, and all the late nights and hours spent second guessing every decision had paid off. She’d spent hours comparing two shades of red for the ad’s background, and she’d scrapped her drawings twice because they weren’t good enough.  
    The victory was totally worth the little sacrifices, and she was soaring. The rest of her team had opted to grab celebratory beers, leaving her to report back to Cunningham and Jonathan, the company’s co-owners. As soon as she brought them up to speed, she was going to make an appointment for a post-work massage and pedicure, a little something to spoil herself.
    She tried to control her triumphant smile as she approached the comfortable waiting area.
    Jonathan was leaning on the receptionist’s desk, deep in conversation with Nolan. Elle paused to watch them. Jonathan’s long, muscular body was often in a state of casual repose, but she had learned that it was a carefully constructed act designed to make him more approachable. His movie star, fair Nordic beauty was intimidating, yet he put people at ease without seeming to register their discomfort.  
    Nolan, on the other hand, with his trendy suits and jet black hair, was mercurial. His moods were easy to read. Either he didn’t know how to mask his emotions or he couldn’t be bothered. But even if he could stop his expressions from betraying his every thought, he couldn’t control how his blue eyes darkened when he was angry.  
    Elle’s smile now had nothing to do with professional success. Here were two of the men who had turned her boring, workaday existence into the kind of life she’d always dreamed about. They were smart and funny, they were rich—Nolan didn’t have to work the receptionist’s desk—and most importantly, they were kinky as all get-out.
    Elle walked forward. To her surprise, the men merely glanced at her, then continued conversing in hushed tones.
    “Hi,” she said uncertainly. Nolan might ignore her from time to time, but Jonathan was gregarious, always happy to see her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
    “Cunningham is waiting in his office for your report,” Jonathan said without looking at her.
    Blinking, Elle decided to let their strange behavior slide for the moment. It was probably about some boring company thing that didn’t involve her. Still, it was unlike Jonathan to be so… distant. She headed down the hallway.
    “Elle.”
    She pivoted. “Yes, Jonathan.”
    “Cunningham knows what you did.”
    Elle’s eyes widened. “What I did? What did I do?” She looked to Nolan for support, but Nolan had his arms crossed, and he was avoiding her gaze.
    A disappointed look in his eyes, Jonathan shook his head. “We expected so much from you, Elle.”  
    He shifted his broad shoulders, turning away from her. She’d been dismissed.

    Elle slowly approached Cunningham’s office. Her fingers went so cold that she wasn’t sure if her purse and laptop bag were going to drop onto the floor at any moment. All of her confidence had evaporated, and even she didn’t want to be near herself.
    There had to be a reasonable explanation for what was happening, but Jonathan had sounded so sure. Elle desperately tried to imagine what she could have done in the last twenty-four hours to upset her bosses.
    Absolutely nothing came to mind. Maybe it was something she’d done earlier that they were only just finding out about? She couldn’t think of anything… at least not anything that she hadn’t been thoroughly punished for.
    And punishment meant a spanking, perhaps being forced to grovel, forced to service their ardent cocks while she sobbed. But even when she’d been