Devoted to Rose

David's heart had been pounding since he'd gotten the message to report to HR.

Three flights up, alone in the elevator. Hands shaking visibly. The feeling of desperately needing to pee. A sense of foreboding. Impending humiliation of an unknown kind.

Not very deep down, he had a horrible feeling he knew just what it might be about. There had been a few occasions he had been surprised from behind in his cubicle, while engaged on his phone in his secret fetish. Scrolling. Findom. Sometimes, sending money to hot women. Hoping for a moment of their attention. His addiction had gotten to the point he could no longer resist indulging at work, while sitting at his desk. He always tried to be discreet. Kept his phone at the correct angle, concealed from the view of anyone approaching from behind. He even wore underwear and pants designed to conceal the engorgement of his small penis as he browsed, or the full erections he got when sending a woman money, or being told to send more.

He prayed that it might be something mundane. A tax issue. A safeguarding training session. "This is nothing to worry about. You're not in trouble."

The elevator doors opened. He rushed out past a blur of unknown colleagues who were chatting together animatedly. He found the bathroom and went to pee, but nothing came, after all that. Pure nerves. Nerves didn't cover it. Terror.

He'd been told the office number. 709. The sign on the door read "Human Resources Director". This was the director he was being sent to? There must be a mistake. He'd never met the HR Director, did not know who it was, or whether it was a man or a woman.

He decided he had to knock, and say he'd been sent here in any case. He could explain and apologise if it was a mistake. He was still trembling a little as he knocked at the door, a swift double-knock, tap tap.

"Come on in."

He pushed the door open, and saw a beautiful, feminine, businesslike, rather intimidating woman sitting behind a large desk. Her auburn hair was down, but behind her shoulders, away from her face.

"It's... it's David..."

"Ah yes, David. Come in and close the door."

David obeyed and stood awkwardly for a moment.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't know your name ma'am."

"You can call me Rose. This is a friendly chat. Have a seat."

"Thank you. Thank you Rose."

David sat in one of the two chairs in front of her desk and tried to remain calm. She looked at him with something that seemed like intrigue, sizing him up perhaps. It did nothing to help his nerves. He was looking down, and caught a glance of her elegant grey high heeled shoes under her desk. After a long pause, she spoke.

"Do you know why I asked you here, David?"

"No... no I don't."

"Oh, I think you might have some idea."

"I... I really don't. If I've done something wrong I'm sorry."

"Well, I'm not sure if you have. But we've had a couple of reports from your colleagues that are a little... concerning."

"Oh... I... what were they?"

"Well, I'll try to summarise. We've had several colleagues say that you spend a lot of time looking at your phone and that you are very distracted and unable to focus on your work. We have had another report of a colleague catching a glimpse of what looked like soft pornography on your phone while you were working. More than one person has used the phrase 'addictive behaviour' to describe you, when we started looking into it. Does that sound like you, David?"

He was dumbstruck for a good minute.

"This conversation is confidential, David. I'm here to help you."

"Well, I... I guess it does sound like that could be me."

"Do you have an addiction, David? Like gambling? Or pornography, perhaps? If you do then you need to talk to someone about it. Whatever it is, it is affecting your work in a way that your colleagues are noticing. It can't go on."

David felt a sickness and a cold fear all over his body. She was so calm, so reasonable, but he felt like he was in a cage, and could not see a way out. Rose was peering at him questioningly. Almost involuntarily, he glanced at her soft grey blouse and caught a hint of the magnificent shape of her breasts.

He could not get the words out that he needed to, and could not think of a way out of the situation he was in.

"Whatever it is, David, you can tell me."

David felt a strange calm descend on him as he looked into Rose's eyes. He found himself speaking, clearly, as though another person had taken over his body.

"I do have an addiction."

"It's good that you've admitted that to yourself David. That's progress. What is it that you are addicted to?"

"It's... it's called Findom."

"Findom?"

"Yes Rose. Have you heard of it?"

"I think so. But you'll have to refresh my memory."

"It's... I can't even explain it. It's a kind of fetish for sending money to women."

"I see. And what do you get for this money?"

"That's it, you get nothing. Just sending them money is its own reward. Its an act of submission. It's a form of submission. Ultimate submission."

Rose looked up at him, and sat up in her chair a little. She was interested. She raised an immaculate eyebrow.

"And you do this on your phone? While you're at work? How does that work?"

"It... mostly through social media. You find women there and then there are payment apps that allow you to send money to them."

Rose crossed her legs. David caught another glimpse of her pretty shoes under the desk.

"How much money are we talking about, David?"

"That depends. Sometimes I send to reimburse something that a woman has bought, sometimes it's just a lump sum, sometimes it's a lot of smaller amounts in succession, if she tells me to send more. That is sometimes called a 'drain'."

"I see. Interesting. Well well well."

David felt nervous again, worried that he had revealed too much.

"What is going to happen to me?"

Rose didn't say anything for a while, just sat pensively for a moment, then stood and walked around her office. David could not help glancing at the smooth line of her skirt and her shapely stockinged legs.

"I'm not going to send you a formal letter today, David. But consider this a warning that you can't do that on your phone in the office. What you do in your own time is your own business, but if you have an addiction that affects your work then you have to try to control it."

"Yes Rose, I understand. Thank you."

"That's OK David. I'm here to help you, and I'll try to help you. I want to have a review with you a week from today to see how you are progressing with controlling your addiction. Then if I can help you in any way, I will."

She sat down again, and crossed her fine legs.

"Thank you Rose. Really. I'm so grateful."

"That's alright David. I'll catch up with you next week. Now go back to your desk, and focus on your work."

*

On the morning David was due to meet with Rose again, he was a bundle of nerves. He had dressed as smartly as he could. It had been a difficult week for him, but he had managed to avoid indulging his addiction in the office. This had meant that when he got home every night he was bursting with anticipation, and spent hours scrolling. He had probably sent more money than he did in a usual week, too.

When he got to his desk there was a message from Rose in his inbox.

"David - let's get out of the office for our meeting today. Meet me in the lobby at 10 and we can go to the coffee place across the street."

He was there in the lobby on time, but she kept him waiting. After 10 minutes the elevator doors opened, and David felt a lump rise in his throat when he saw her. She wore a bright red trouser suit, black ankle boots, and sunglasses on her head.

Striding towards him, she just said "Let's go".

Rose had chosen a discreet table in the corner and sent David to get coffee. He felt his penis twitch as he paid. It was just a coffee, but... something about it. Something his little penis knew. It was for Rose. He was paying for her. He felt that familiar feeling, a feeling he had had before, about other women, but never a woman he had been in the presence of. He wanted to please her. He wanted to serve her. And there was only one way he knew how to serve a woman. With money.

Carrying the drinks to the table he tried his best to supress these thoughts and feelings. He had to be professional. He was already skating on thin ice.

"So, David, how are you?"

"I'm good, thank you Rose. I'm good. Relieved to have been given a chance."

"Good. And how are you doing with that chance? Have you been a good boy in the office?"

She gave him a friendly grin as she said it. She could not know what a triggering phrase "good boy" was for him. It caused a little twitch in his pants.

"Yes! Yes I have. I was stupid to ever let it happen in the office, I realise that. And I have refrained all this week."

"And... you'll carry on refraining, right?"

"Yes. Yes of course Rose."

"Has that been difficult?"

"Well, yes but... how do you mean?"

"Well, you said it was an addiction. I know addictions are difficult to just quit."

"It is difficult, yes. I can't say I haven't indulged when I got home. The addiction hasn't gone away."

She looked at him pensively. He tried not to gape at her elegant beauty. He stole glances, then looked down at her feet.

"I know it won't just go away David. I understand that much. You just need to try to control it as much as you can."

"I know."

"I spoke with your line manager, and she told me your performance has been better. I told her you had some personal issues I was helping you with."

"Thank you Rose."

"I suggest we catch up every week for a few weeks David, just to make sure you are staying on top of everything."

"Of course Rose, that would be great."

"In the meantime, if you need help, with your addiction, or with anything else, you just let me know, OK?"

"Yes Rose, thank you."

They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping coffee. There was a commotion in the street, two drivers arguing with each other and a crowd gathering. David stole a glance at Rose's smooth neck line, and her beautiful emerald necklace, as she craned to see what was happening.

He felt his penis twitch again. He wanted to try and maintain the small connection he felt they had, somehow. He found the words and blurted them inelegantly.

"Actually, Rose... there is something you could do. Something that might help me control my addiction. But please say no if its not appropriate."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh? What's that, David?"

"Well... I was... wondering. Maybe if I... if I could bring you your coffee tomorrow morning at your desk. If that would be convenient for you."

She smiled, a curious look on her face.

"I like coffee. But how would that help you exactly, David?"

"It would... maybe relieve my addiction a little. To buy you something and bring it to you. Like a small tribute."

"Tribute?"

"That's what we call it when we... send women money. It's called a tribute."

"So... you want me to be like those women? So you can relieve your addiction?"

"Well... I guess... yes Rose. Just in a small way. A mark of my respect and admiration for you."

Rose smiled at that. She gave a short laugh.

There was a silence for a few moments that was uncomfortable, at least for David. He sat, waiting, wanting the ground to swallow him up.

"How about this, David? You can bring me my coffee tomorrow morning, and then we'll see if you can manage not to be too weird about it. OK? How about we try that for starters."

"Oh God... yes Rose. Thank you!"

"OK David. Now let's get back to it."

*

David's hands were shaking so much he had to hold the oatmik latte with both hands as he rode the elevator to the 7th floor. He remembered the first time he had been here. The sign on the door. "Human Resources Director".

He managed to knock, holding the coffee in his other hand.

"Yeah?"

He opened the door just slightly.

"It's David. With your coffee."

"Oh, right. Come in, David."

He placed the coffee on her desk, trying not to look weird. She laughed a little.

"Thank you David, that is very kind of you."

"Oh no, it's my pleasure. Really."

"Well, it's much appreciated. And I hope it helps you."

"Yes Rose, it does help me. Did I... did I pass the test though?"

Rose looked up. Her auburn hair was a hint more red today, fragrant and exquisite.

"What test, David?"

"You told me not to be weird about it."

Rose rocked her head back and gave a full throated laugh.

"So I did! Haha... well, I guess you passed. Well done, David."

"Thank you Rose. May I bring your coffee again tomorrow, Rose?"

She looked him up and down, and raised her eyebrows in a way that had become familiar to him.

"Yes you may. Now get back to work."

*

Their next weekly meeting was held in her office, and although David had dutifully brought her coffee every morning of that week, they had barely spoken.

Sometimes she had been on the phone, and just nodded and pointed to where on her desk she wanted the coffee. Other times she had just thanked him briefly then sent him back to work. One time there was another woman in the room with her, who looked slightly perplexed as to why David was there bringing coffee.

Despite, or perhaps because of, this limited and functional interaction, David had slowly sunk further and further into devotion to Rose. He stole glances at her face, her hair, her elegant feminine figure. At night he dreamed of serving her, and kneeling before her. He felt as devoted to her as he ever had to any Findom Goddess he had served in the past.

She seemed almost unconsciously aware of her power over him. She treated him as a casual convenience, a servant, and never questioned her right to his obedience. Perhaps he had built it up in his mind, and it really meant nothing to her. But that was somehow even more arousing, the thought that she did not think about him at all. Sometimes when he entered with her coffee, she looked bemused, as though she had forgotten he existed.

Today, for their meeting, he had brought again brought coffee, not for himself, just for Rose. She gave a slight nod as he placed it on her desk. She had stopped thanking him.

"So David", she said, as he sat facing her, "how are you getting along?"

"Good, thank you Rose. You have really helped me to manage the addiction. And I really appreciate your discretion and understanding of course."

She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"That's good, David. You're doing well. It's my job to help."

"I appreciate it Rose. Sincerely."

What he wanted to say was: I think about you all the time, and all I want is to serve you. She crossed her legs. Seeing her do this always drove him crazy.

"How is the addiction, David? Manageable now?"

"Yes Rose... just being able to get you coffee, it honestly helps. If there is ever anything else I could do that would make things more convenient for you, please let me know. I mean... if there is anything that you need fetching or purchasing. It would be my privilege to... be of... service."

She raised both eyebrows.

"OK David. I'll bear that in mind. Now run along."

*

It was only a couple of days later that David received a curt message from Rose, requesting that he run an errand for her. He was shaking as he read it.

"David - a favor. Pls collect my dry cleaning & take it to my car. Collect keys from me. Location for collection in link below. R."

He read it over and over. His tiny penis was fully erect and twitching uncontrollably. Could she know this would have such an effect on him? Probably not. She was just using him, for convenience. A man who was happy to serve her. Why not, she was probably thinking. The little shortened "Pls" was the only thing in the message that indicated a request rather than a command. Her power was assumed.

When he collected the keys, Rose was on the phone. She just held them out to him, along with the dry cleaning ticket, and flashed him a brief smile. Then on his lunch break he went to the location she had told him, which was a few minutes walk from the office.

When he handed in the ticket, the attendant brought out the wrapped clothing, some suits, skirts and blouses. They all looked exquisite. He had seen her wearing some of them.

"You paying by card, Sir?"

David shuddered.

"Oh I... it's not... pre-paid?"

"No Sir. Just put your card in here please."

David's fingers were unsteady as he punched in his PIN number.

He felt numb all the way back to the office. He found Rose's car in the car park and placed the clothing as carefully as he could in the back.

When he went to return the keys to Rose, she did not thank him.

"Why don't you keep those keys, David. It's a spare set. Then next time, if you'd like, you can drop the dry-cleaning off for me too, and save me another trip. If you want to be helpful?"

"Yes Rose. Thank you. That would be wonderful."

"OK David. Good. Back to work."

*

A little over a month had passed, but David still had butteflies riding the elevator up to Rose's office. His inner devotion to her had grown, daily, and as time passed and the trust grew between them, she had allowed him to serve her in other small ways. He had been sent to buy a gift that she wanted for a friend's birthday, evidently a man. He got to pay for it too. Payment was never mentioned, but it was always assumed by both of them that David would pay the charge for whatever he had been sent to do.

He still brought coffee daily, to the evident bemusement of colleagues who had noticed it, but he laughed it off as a kind of coffee pool or club, and made a mock complaint about how Rose never went to buy coffee when it was her turn. Once a week, he would discreetly take her dry cleaning from her car, then collect it the next day, paying for it each time. Having her elegant clothing in his arms was a sweet and secret thrill for David.

It helped him to avoid or at least control his urges during the day, serving Rose in this way. But at night when he was alone, he would still scroll through findom content, and feel the old cravings to send money to the women he saw. One night he had been staring at the sole picture of Rose, stern and businesslike, on the company website. He was in a state of arousal, dreaming of serving Rose, kneeling before her. Kissing her shoes. It brought on a relapse, and he sent a lot of money, to a domme who looked a little like the real object of his craving, a smart-mouthed woman with red-tinged hair and full shapely breasts.

The weekly meetings with Rose were still continuing, although they were usually quite short. This time though, he told her about his relapse. She listened intently, interested as always, and then spoke.

"Was there anything in particular that brought on this... relapse?"

David was unsure, as usual, how frank he dared to be. With a dry throat, he found some courage.

"Well, I was aroused. Actually it was you, Rose. Kind of."

Her amused and curious look came back.

"Me, David?"

"Well... to be honest I... I was looking at a picture of you. The one from the website. I was dreaming of... sending you money. Like I do with those women. I know you let me pay for things, which is a thrill and a privilege for me, but I still dream of sending you money. I can't help it Rose. I'm sorry. If that's weird or gross I'm so sorry."

She sat, looking impossibly elegant, her hair up in a bun, showing her slender neck, contemplating him. She was wearing her necklace with the emerald. David had never felt more at her mercy. There was a hint of a smirk on her lips. He knew that she could feel the power she had over him, and every fibre of his being told him that she did not dislike that feeling. She liked the power, he could tell. Was she actively enjoying it? That was hard to know.