Becoming a TrueYou

[Full disclaimer, I have never written a mind control story before, this was a challenge outside my usual comfort zone! Hopefully it works for you lovely readers and any feedback is always welcome to help me improve :)]

***

Violet slammed the flyer down on the table triumphantly. "I've got a new one!" She grinned and shifted her weight excitedly from foot to foot.

Troy glared up at her, his coffee cup frozen halfway to his lips. He took a slow sip, then deliberately positioned his cup back on its saucer, carefully placing it so the designs would line up, and steepled his fingers.

"Violet, darling, I say this with all the love in the world," he started. "You've got a weird-ass hobby."

"I know," Violet squealed. The chair slid towards Troy with a squeak as Violet threw herself down in it, dropping her bag to the floor. "Look, look," she pointed to the sleek black-and-white flyer. "This one's extra cryptic, they've gone the whole elitism route to make it seem exclusive and enticing."

"TrueYou", Troy read. "Come live your truest life." He looked at Violet over his glasses and raised a sceptic eyebrow. "Seems like the same buzzwordy nonsense all the other ones had."

Violet slid the flyer back in front of her and flipped it over. "Yeah, but you get a feel for these things - the dark colour scheme, the font, the absence of a website, the minimalistic location and timing info... I'm telling you, this one is going all 'secret society', except they go round stuffing these in random letterboxes."

"Honey," Troy took another sip of coffee, "you need a boyfriend. You can't keep going round to these random wannabe-cult introductory lectures."

"But it's so fun," Violet argued, slamming her hands down on the table. Troy frowned and rearranged his mug to line the designs back up. "I've gotten really good at asking the tough questions really innocently so I don't look argumentative. Plus sometimes they give you free stuff!"

"Aren't you worried about giving out your contact information to all these weirdos, though?"

"Nah, I never go as Violet Wilson, say hello to..." Violet waved her hands in front of her face and put on a mysterious air, batting her eyelashes. She raised her voice to a higher pitch and spoke as poshly as she could, pursing her lips. "Lady Evelyn Barton, Esquire."

"Lady?" Troy questioned.

"Yes, although Lady Evelyn Barton hides this fact when she mingles with commoners, you see, for she wants no special treatment." Violet held her head up high, looking down her nose at Troy.

"And 'esquire'?"

Violet nodded primly.

"Vi," Troy smirked, "esquire is a male title."

"Oh. Lady Evelyn Barton did not know this." Violet shrugged and slumped back down, her voice returning to normal. "Alright, so the full back story is still a work in progress, but so far beyond writing down her name and email on a sign-in sheet, Evelyn hasn't been called to do very much, so it's held up fine."

Troy rolled his eyes with a sigh. He knew when a conversation with Violet was a lost cause: she loved a good argument and refused to ever admit she might be wrong. He'd learned long ago to pick his battles with her - he'd successfully managed to talk her down from a face tattoo, so in contrast, this seemed like one to let go. "So, when is this super elitist meeting?"

"Saturday, at 3, why, do you want to come?" Violet positively buzzed at the idea, hovering over her seat more than sitting on it.

***

Violet showed up at the address indicated on the flyer. Alone, of course - Troy had indicated something along the lines of preferring to eat nothing but plain oatmeal for the rest of his life rather than attend one of these sessions. That was apparently the worst thing he could imagine, which had led the conversation down a weird path with Violet trying to one-up each worst case scenario he could come up with.

She'd decided to lean into the whole secret-society vibe and wore black skintight jeans, a black leather jacket over a white tank top, and large dark sunglasses covering half her face. She'd pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail, high on her head.

A deep breath, and Violet transformed into Lady Evelyn, smiling to herself as she reminded herself to drop the 'esquire'. She took out the flyer to double-check the address: she was in the right place. The building in front of her looked fairly nondescript - probably full of soulless rented offices and bland conference rooms.

Violet raised her eyebrows in surprise as soon as the revolving door spat her out in the lobby. Where she'd expected a sad, empty room, or perhaps a simple plywood table with a fake plant, she was confronted with a futuristic looking reception area. There were no visible lamps or lights, and yet the room was suffused with a gentle warm light.

A gleaming white desk stood in the corner, its geometric design confusing and drawing the eye somehow both towards and away from the woman sitting behind it. Violet stepped up to the desk, her heeled boots echoing over the marble floor, and she dug the flyer out of her back pocket.

"Excuse me," she cleared her throat, "I'm here for, uh..."

Violet trailed off, her mouth hanging slightly open as her eyes managed to settle on the woman behind the desk. Woman was too impotent a word to describe her. 'Goddess' might have come closer, and yet Violet didn't think that would cover it, either. Her eyes seemed to change colour, fading from green to brown to blue to purple, finally settling on a deep walnut brown when they met Violet's.

"Ah, the welcome session, of course," the receptionist smiled. "Walk through those double doors, second room on the right."

Before she knew what had happened, Violet found herself walking down the corridor, still clutching the black flyer in her hand. She glanced back to catch another glimpse of the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen, but the double doors had swung shut behind her and the reception was out of sight.

She took a deep breath in, shaking off the uncanny feeling growing inside her. Right, she'd done this dozens of times by now. In and out, ask some funny questions, then call Troy and laugh about it.

She repressed a smirk as she glanced around the room, drapes covering the walls and an ornate chandelier hanging in the centre of the ceiling, the deep and woody scent of incense permeating the air. She half expected to see a parade of robed and hooded cultists emerge from a concealed door in the wall.

What she hadn't expected was to see a single man standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back. Violet tried to make out his features, but try as she might, she couldn't seem to focus on any one thing for too long - though she could tell he was handsome. He was tall, but not too tall. He was wearing trousers of some kind, and a shirt of some sort. His hair was on his head, and he had a mouth, a nose, and two ears, of that much she was certain.

But his eyes... his eyes were the one feature she couldn't tear herself away from. They were the deepest black, or maybe green, perhaps brown? Definitely blue, when he finally spoke up.

"Welcome," his voice resonated deeply in Violet's chest. "Tell me your name."

"I'm Ev--Violet," she blurted out. Odd. She'd fully intended on introducing herself as Evelyn - she'd even thought about more backstory for her since her conversation with Troy.

"Good," the man smiled. "Now, Violet, do you know what we do here?"

She shook her head. The man started walking in a circle around Violet, who stood rooted in place, following him with her eyes.

"We reveal people's true selves. Who they are, deep down. Do you understand me?"

He stopped behind Violet and she shook her head again, unnerved at having lost sight of him but somehow totally unable to turn her body - or even just her head - to look at him. A twinge of fear coursed through Violet, urging her to get out, but his voice kept her frozen.

"You'll understand soon. Now, I think it's warm in here. Why don't you take your jacket off?"

Violet supposed she was kind of hot, and shrugged off her leather jacket. The receptionist appeared next to her and took it with a smile, retreating behind drapes at the far end of the room. The man walked back round to face Violet once more.

"I know you, Violet. I know the kind of person you are. You are a people pleaser."

That wasn't too far off base. She did like it when people were happy, and she liked to make them happy. She'd never considered herself a 'people pleaser' before, but perhaps that was an accurate label.

"So you want to please me, don't you, Violet?"

"Yes," she said, her voice sounding oddly distant, "I do."

She didn't really, did she? She didn't even really know him. Or his name. Or what he looked like. No, she was just playing along, this was her thing, her funny little thing she does.

"Then listen carefully, because nothing would please me more than you being your truest, realest self right now. Violet, tell me, you want to kiss me, don't you?"

With a start, Violet realised she did. The man's lips came into focus, tantalisingly soft and beckoning. She was still grasping at straws, still unable to describe him, but god, did she want to kiss him. It was a feeling like she'd never felt before, an unspeakable urge, like she'd literally die if she didn't kiss him. She knew that was irrational, but that didn't make the feeling disappear.

She nodded sheepishly, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I do."

The man stepped forwards and lifted her face towards him. "No need to be embarrassed here, Violet, this is your safe space," he murmured. "We are here to let your self out. Kiss me."

A weight lifted off Violet's shoulders as she regained control of her limbs, and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in close for a kiss.

She took a deep breath in as she released him, the room spinning around her slightly. She felt drunk - that must have been some kiss...

"I'm so glad you acted on your true desires, there.," the man purred. "What else do you want to do?"

Violet stood frozen once more. What did she want? Her mind raced a mile a minute, trying to think, trying to remember what she wanted, what she was here for, but the aftereffects of the kiss had seemingly short-circuited her.

"I think you want to take your top off," the man continued.

Well, she was still kind of warm, so Violet grabbed the hem of her shirt and smoothly pulled it over her head. Once again, the receptionist appeared, seemingly out of thin air, to take it off her hands.

As Violet stood there, a memory flashed through her brain - a coffee cup with a pattern neatly lined up with the saucer underneath it... A man, a friend? She was going to tell him something about today... Just as she thought she might grab onto the fleeting thought, reel it in and examine it, the man spoke up again.

"What a gorgeous bra," he said, fingers lifting to brush Violet's clavicle and gently push one strap off her shoulder. "I would love to see if the bottoms match. Why don't you show me?"

Of course, how rude of her! Violet scrambled to undo her jeans and pushed them down, stepping out of them and holding them off to the side. As expected, the receptionist once more materialised to relieve her of the item.

Violet stood in her underwear, waiting for the man to keep talking - wait, what? Why did she get undressed again? What was she waiting for exactly? This was ridiculous, she should just leave, just, somehow, find her clothes, and the door must be somewhere around here, and -

"Thank you, Violet. You are a beautiful woman, you know."

She blushed. She really was beautiful, wasn't she? And sexy, too, so why not show it off? What was wrong with that, after all?

"I think you would look even more beautiful on your knees."

Why, yes, she might actually look even more beautiful that way, as he would be able to see fully down her cleavage. Violet sank to her knees, putting her hands on her thighs and looking up - only to spot a tell-tale bulge in the man's trousers, suddenly clear and visible to her. She smiled.

"Yes, you are," he purred. "Come with me," he gestured, then turned around and headed for one of the drapes covering a wall.

Violet pushed herself up to one foot, when she heard him tut. "Stay on your knees," he said, "where you shine brightest."

Well, duh, that made sense! Violet chided herself internally. She was here to be her best, truest self, and this is where she looked best, so it made sense this was her truest self... right? Something about that logic niggled at her but crawling across the floor was an unfamiliar motion, and it took all her mental bandwidth to focus on that.

The man held a drape up and Violet realised it wasn't covering a wall at all, but led to another room. This one had a similar glowing chandelier hanging from the ceiling, this time over a large four-poster bed. The soft light perfectly illuminated the crisp white sheets and the intricately carved wooden posts, but didn't quite reach the edges of the large circular chamber.

"This floor must be hard on your hands and knees," the man said. "Why don't you get on the bed?"

He was, once again, correct, and Violet gratefully crawled onto the bed, resuming her kneeling position. By the time she looked up, the man was undressed, and Violet spotted the receptionist slinking away with his clothes.

"You wanted to kiss me before," he said, standing close to the bed, his erection drawing Violet's eyes. "Do you want to kiss me again?"

Violet nodded. "I do," she said, her voice a distant whisper to her ears.

"Do you want to kiss my lips?" he asked, then continued before she could answer. "Or, would you rather kiss my cock?"

Violet swallowed past a lump in her throat and nodded again. She did want to kiss his cock, how did he know? She would never have admitted it if he hadn't asked.

"Then come please me," he said, stepping up to the edge of the bed.

Violet crawled forwards and her lips met his cock. She moaned as she kissed the tip, feeling satisfied, like some core desire within her was finally being fulfilled. She kept going, kissing up and down his shaft, her tongue occasionally darting out to flick over the tip.

"Yes, Violet," he groaned, "I can see who you are now..."

He stepped away from the bed, leaving Violet to pout. She emitted a small whine and he held his finger up. "Don't," he said, "that's not who you are."

He was right. She wasn't a whiner. Violet sat back on her heels, and smiled at him. That's who she was, smiley and happy and obedient.

"Good," he smiled back. "Now it's not very fair that I'm the only naked one, is it?"

She shook her head. No, it really wasn't fair. She scrambled to pull her bra and panties off and dropped them to the side of the bed.

"I want to see you," he said, "your whole beauty. Lay back and spread your legs, show me."

Violet laid on her back, spreading her legs and setting her feet on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were drawn to the ornate chandelier above her head. It was swinging slightly, left, and right, and left, and right, the light dancing within it, like a beautiful flame, left, and right, and left, and right...

Somehow, the man had sunk to his knees and pulled her hips closer to the edge of the bed. When Violet looked down she saw he had inserted two fingers inside her and was spreading her open.

"See how empty you are, Violet? This beautiful pussy of yours is almost perfect, but it's missing something, isn't it?"

She nodded, the emptiness inside her suddenly vast, reaching to her core. She yearned to fill this gap inside her.

"I'm going to fuck you, now," the man said, standing and holding his cock in his hand, stroking it gently. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes," she gasped, he had to, she needed him to.

"Say it again. What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," she murmured, "I want you to fill my pussy, please," she begged, desperate.

He slammed his cock inside her and she gasped, grasping fistfuls of the bedsheets around her. "That's who you are, Violet," he grunted, then thrust into her again, "a pussy whose only purpose is to please cocks."

He grabbed her hips and pumped into her. She moaned in ecstasy at fulfilling her purpose.

"Say it," he said, thrusting into her at a steady rhythm.

"I'm a pussy here to please cocks," she said, "I'm here for your pleasure, just a little fucktoy," she continued.

She couldn't quite believe those words were coming out of her mouth, but she wouldn't say something she didn't mean, right?

"Good," he groaned, his breathing ragged, "so much initiative... remember those words."

The room suddenly brightened, light now reaching the edges of the chamber. Violet gasped - large velvet chairs lined the room, and half a dozen men sat in them, watching her. Some had pulled their cocks out and stroked themselves, while others simply sat back motionless.

"Don't be selfish," the man fucking Violet continued. "Your beauty should be shared with the world... but we'll start with TrueYou."

Violet was very much of the opinion that wealth should be shared across the population, so why not beauty? It did make sense.

The man's fingers tensed around Violet's hips and he shuddered before pulling out. He held his cock as it spurted thick ropes of cum over Violet's stomach. One drop hit her chin and she reached to wipe it.

"Don't," he panted. "It makes you prettier."

She smiled and let her hand drop back down to her side.

"Remind yourself what you are."

"I'm a fucktoy for your pleasure," Violet's voice rang out, fully disconnected from her body.

"Good," he smiled. "Today you serviced my cock. Tomorrow you will come back. TrueYou has more cocks for you to please."

The man snapped his fingers, and blackness descended upon Violet.

***

Violet's phone rang and she picked up reflexively.

"Vi? Where are you?!" Troy asked, uncharacteristically frantic.

"I'm..." Violet looked around, "I'm at home," she realised. "On my couch."

"We were supposed to meet for drinks an hour ago," Troy continued, "I've been texting you for ages. Did you fall asleep or something?"

"I must have," Violet mused. That's the only thing that made sense. She must have laid down and taken a nap. "I'll be there in a bit".

She stood somewhat shakily and headed to her front door, grabbing her keys and glancing at her hallway mirror as she always did. She wiped a fleck of white off her chin with her thumb - this is exactly why she checked the mirror before leaving! Must be some dried toothpaste from this morning, or something.

"I'm leaving now, Troy," she told him, "but I just remembered I have to cancel on the cinema tomorrow."

"Why?" Troy asked, back to his usual calm self.

"I've got a thing," Violet replied, "and though I can't quite remember what, I know it's important."