The Organization: Encounter Group

By Hypnothrill published February 25, 2019

Walter’s former employee convinces him to join a very special therapy group, led by the Organization

{I’ve had this one in reserve for a few months, and now seems like the right time to share it. This story is a sequel to my adaptation of N. Trance’s “The Organisation”: This time, I’ve Americanized both the setting and the spelling, but the Org’s methods of mind control are still inspired by N. Trance. The first story didn’t get much positive feedback, so I’m curious to know how people like this one. Please let me know in the comments below!}

The Organization: Encounter Group

It would be an understatement to say that I was shocked when Miles suddenly quit the firm. Here was an ambitious young man who had everything going for him, a hard worker who seemed destined for better and brighter things with our firm. Why, just a couple of weeks ago, we’d discussed the possibility of a promotion. And then to just suddenly send an e-mail, saying “Dear Walter, I have received an amazing new opportunity and I will be quitting the firm effective immediately”? Well, it just boggled the mind.

A few days later, when Miles stopped by the office to pick up his last paycheck, things got even stranger. I’d never seen him dressed like this, in just a skintight white T-shirt that showed off his biceps and the outline of his hard nipples, and a pair of equally tight jeans with an obscenely large bulge running down his right leg. If he were still my employee, I’d tell him he had to go home and change.

I tried not to look down below his face as I spoke to him, “I hate to see you go, Miles. Isn’t there anything we can do to get you to stay?”

“I’m sorry, Walter. But I work for The Organization now.”

“The organization? What organization is that?”

“THE Organization. There’s only one Org,” said Miles, with a zealous gleam in his blue eyes.

“Well, no, actually. There are thousands of organizations, foundations, non-profits. You know that as well as I do, Miles; you’ve handled some of their accounts here at the firm. So what’s this ‘Organization,’ then, some sort of charity?”

“No… it’s not quite a charity… but it does help people. It helps give them a new purpose in life. Like me. I can see now how lost I was working here. So full of worldly ambitions, so focused on material things, so frustrated. Thankfully my roommate Luke introduced me to the Org. And they taught me that none of that was important. Only my true purpose is important.”

“Your…true purpose?”

“Yes, my true purpose working for the Organization,” Miles flashed me a broad smile. “You know, Walter, the Organization can help you too. I’ve seen how lost you’ve been, ever since you lost your wife.” Involuntarily, tears began to well up in the corners of my eyes, at the very mention of my dearly departed Rachel.

“There there, Walter,” Miles said, patting me on the back, and leaning in so closely that I could smell the rather strong musk of his cologne. “I can see how much you are suffering. But the Organization can stop all that suffering. They have a special group, for men just like you. And they have meetings every night in the Org building. You should go there tonight after work. You can do that for me, can’t you Walter?”

The smell of his cologne was making my head spin a bit, and I found myself saying, “Yes… yes, I can do that for you, Miles.”

“Good. Take this card,” he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a business card. As he handed it to me, the sleeves of his tight T-shirt rode up, and I could see that he had a small tattoo just above his right bicep: a circle inside a star inside a circle. “This has the meeting time and directions to the Org building. You won’t regret this, Walter. The Organization will give you a new purpose. Just like it’s done for me.”

I hadn’t planned on going to the meeting. In fact, I was tempted to just throw the card in the trash as soon as Miles left. The way he was going on about it, this “Organization” sounded a little…cult-like? But he was right about one thing: I couldn’t keep going on like this. It was over six months since Rachel’s death, and I was still crying myself to sleep at night. I needed to start doing -something- to deal with my loss, and even if this men’s group thing turned out to be a big fraud, at least it was a first step.

At least that’s what I’m telling myself as I look again at the card Miles handed me—noting the logo embossed on the card, a circle inside a star inside a circle, just like on his tattoo—and step into the immense lobby of the 10-story Org building downtown. Taking a deep breath to steel myself, I step into the elevator and press the button for the 4th floor.

Stepping into the meeting room, I see eight other men milling around a little table with cookies and pitchers of drinks. Most of them are middle-aged guys like me—I see some grey hair, some balding heads, some potbellies—but one man across the room is a bit younger, maybe late 30s. He’s dressed differently too, in a short-sleeved polo shirt and tan pants that look at least two sizes too small for him. He spots me and quickly walks across the room to greet me.

“Hello, you must be new here,” he smiles, showing off a row of perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth. “I’m Simon. I’m the leader of this group.”

“I’m Walter,” I said, shaking his hand as I noted the firm grip and the bulging biceps straining against the confines of his polo shirt.

“Good to meet you, Walter. We’ll get started in a few minutes. Why don’t you pour yourself a glass of punch and go meet some of the other guys in the group?”

I do as he suggests, pouring myself a cup of the tangy red-colored punch and grabbing a couple of cookies. Soon, one of the other guys—a shorter balding guy who, like me, is still in his suit and tie from work—comes up and introduces himself. “Hey, I’m Ed. First time here?”

“Yeah. You?”

“No, this is my second. I came yesterday too.”

“Wow, back so soon?”

“Yeah, it just… it really helped, you know?”

“Really? What did…? What exactly do you all do in this group?”

Ed looks puzzled, “Well, we just… I guess we just talked it out… I can’t really remember, honestly. All I know is afterwards, I felt better—less stressed out, I mean—than I have in months. And I knew I had to come back tonight. More punch?” Ed asks, pouring himself another glass.

I let him pour me another glass and down it quickly. I can’t quite place the flavor, but that stuff is delicious. And I love how it makes my tongue tingle. Suddenly, I notice the lights dimming and see Simon gesturing us to come to the other side of the room, where eight chairs are arranged in a semicircle opposite a pull-down projector screen.

“Before we start tonight’s meeting,” he says after we all sit down, “I’d like to show you all a little video explaining what we do here at the Organization.”

A bit puzzled, I turn to Ed, who’s sitting beside me, to ask what this video thing is all about. But he’s already staring expectantly at the screen.

The Organization’s logo comes on the screen, the circle inside a star inside a circle. Then a deep male voice says “Welcome to the Organization. This short video will serve as your initial orientation to what we do here at the Organization.” There’s a low buzzing sound coming from the speakers, distorting the man’s voice. I swear I can hear some faint deeper voices underneath. What is that they’re saying…? Relaxxxx…. Focussss….

I shake my head, just trying to focus. On the screen, the circular logo has started moving, spinning clockwise. But then I notice that the gold band of the inner circle is spinning counterclockwise. With the two circles spinning in opposite directions, it’s hard to know where my eyes should focus—I’m getting dizzy just looking at them. And then the star starts spinning too, spinning and flashing, each point of the star sending out a bright strobe of light that only disorients me more.

I want to close my eyes, to shut out this sensory overload, but the man’s voice is telling me, “Focus on the screen. Keep staring at the screen.” And I have to do what he says, and I have to do what the hissing voices underneath say too…Relaxxx….Lissssten…Obeyyy….

And now my head is spinning, spinning just like the circle in the star in the circle on the screen, and I can’t stop it from spinning, so I just keep staring at the screen, staring at the circle in the star in the circle, and I fall deeper and deeper into the spinning vortex, deeper and deeper, spinning….

My eyes blink, adjusting to the sudden brightness of the room. That’s a little embarrassing; I must have zoned out there watching the orientation video. I just hope they don’t quiz me on what I saw.

Facing us, Simon pulls up the projector screen and says, “Now that you’ve all watched the orientation video, the session can begin.” He pulls off his tight polo shirt, and I raise an eyebrow in surprise. I mean, Simon is a well-built guy, so I can see why he’d want to show off his muscles, but that just doesn’t seem like a very professional way to lead a therapy group, you know?

“Some of you newcomers are probably wondering why I’m taking off my clothes right now,” he said. “The answer is simple. We have no secrets here in the Organization. We don’t hide anything from each other. We bare everything to each other, even the most intimate details.”

Wait…was he going to…? It looked like Simon was fiddling with the button on his trousers! This was getting too freaky! Maybe I should…

Then my eyes catch sight of the tattoo on Simon’s right bicep—the circle inside the star inside the circle—and I start to calm down. I mean, what he said made sense. He wanted to show us what he looked like without clothes, so we could see he wasn’t hiding anything from us. Full disclosure, that was all. It was a little strange, but I shouldn’t overreact.

Calmly, I watch Simon pull down his trousers; he’s not wearing any underwear, so his massive, half-hard cock flops out immediately. I’m a little freaked out by how big he is—that thing must be over a foot long when it’s fully hard—but then I take a calming breath and realize that it only makes sense. Simon’s the leader here, and it makes sense that the leader would have the largest cock. That’s how men like me would know how to follow him. Just follow Simon and his big cock.

Simon sits back down in his chair, now totally naked, and begins idly playing with his cock and balls, making sure we all get a good look. “There. That’s better. Don’t you think?”

Around the room, I hear some of the guys murmuring, “Yes, Simon.”

“Now, who wants to go first?”

A guy about my age, with thinning ash-blond hair and glasses, stands up. “I guess I’ll go. Get everything off my chest,” he says, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt and revealing a light dusting of blond hair across his pecs. “My name is Craig…”

“Hi Craig,” we all say in response.

“…and I started coming here after I was laid off from my job,” Craig is pulling off his shirt as he speaks, “I worked for that paper for nearly thirty years. I was loyal. I won tons of awards. But they were downsizing, and they told me my stuff just wasn’t pulling in the clicks.” Craig’s pulled down his Dockers slacks and is standing there in just his boxer shorts now.

“And how did that make you feel?” Simon asks.

“Angry. Sad. I mean it felt like a part of me had died. I’d given that paper the better part of my life. And then just one day, with no warning, they say ‘clear out your desk.’ And then it’s like, ‘Now what?’”

“But what if they were just setting you free?”

“Free? Well, that’s one way to put it,” Craig laughs cynically, taking off one of his socks.

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious. They were setting you free so you could follow a higher purpose. So you could find people who would value you. That paper never valued you, Craig. Admit it.”

Craig pauses, then reluctantly echoes Simon’s words, “That paper never valued me.”

“But we’d value you, Craig. At the Org, we need men like you. Men who are smart, who are good with words, who are good at media relations. You’d be valued here. There’s just one problem.”

“What’s that?”

Simon gets up from his chair and looks Craig square in the face. “You’re hiding something from us.”

“Oh!” Craig blushes and pulls down his boxers, revealing a decent-sized cut dick surrounded by a thick bush of blond hair.

“Very good, Craig,” Simon smiles. “But that’s not what I meant. You’re hiding something else.” He steps closer to Craig, until they’re nearly face-to-face and dick-to-dick. “You thought you could get your job back, didn’t you, Craig? You thought you’d write a story investigating that mysterious ‘Organization’ you’d been hearing about. You thought you’d go undercover and see if you could expose them as a cult, didn’t you, Craig?”

“No…I wasn’t…”

With his left hand, Simon grabs Craig by the back of the neck and pulls his head forward, so that his eyes are now just inches away from the tattoo on Simon’s right bicep—the circle within the star within the circle. “Don’t lie, Craig. Just admit it. You’ll feel better when you admit it. It feels good to be totally open and honest with me.”

“Yes…I admit it,” Craig drones, “I came here to write a story on you.”

“But you’re never going to write that story, are you, Craig? Now that you see how much we value you here at the Org. You understand that we will treat you so much better than that old paper you worked for, don’t you, Craig?” Simon has loosened his grip on Craig, but he’s still only inches away, and as he speaks, he’s toying with Craig’s chest hair and caressing his cheek.

“I understand. The Org will treat me better.”

“Because the Organization knows best. Say it.”

“The Organization knows best.” I could swear I can see Craig’s dick stir a bit as he repeats those words, and somehow I could understand why. There’s something…strangely compelling about them.

“Now everyone. Repeat after me. The Organization knows best.”

Around the room I can hear a chorus of men chanting in unison “The Organization knows best.”


“The Organization knows best.” This time my voice joins the chorus.

“Very good. You can sit down now, Craig. Now, who’s next?”

A tall, dark-haired man in his early 40s stands up and immediately starts taking off his polo shirt. “Hi, I’m Jack,” he said.

“Hi, Jack!” we all reply.

“I started coming here when I found out my wife was having an affair with my best friend,” Jack says in a flat voice as he begins unzipping his jeans. It sounded like he was reading out a grocery list.

“And how did that make you feel, Jack?” Simon asks.

“I guess I was angry,” Jack replies, pulling down his jeans and standing there in just his black Calvin Klein briefs. “Or sad. I don’t really remember.”

“Why is that, Jack?” Simon has the oddest smile on his face.

Jack pulls off his underwear and lazily scratches his balls. “Because it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s not important to me anymore. Women aren’t important to me anymore. They’re just a waste of time. Time I could be spending working for the Org.”

“Very good! Very good, Jack,” Simon beams, “You’ve come a long way. I remember when you came here, you couldn’t stop crying and shouting and cursing your wife. Do you remember that, Jack?”

“No, Simon. But if you say it, then it must be true.”

“Yes, these sessions have done you a world of good. I think you’re ready to graduate and become a fully-fledged member of the Org. You want that more than anything, don’t you, Jack?” Simon asks, reaching over to trace a pattern on Jack’s right bicep with his finger, a circle inside a star inside a circle.

Jack’s stony expression finally changes as a look of ecstasy crosses his face. “Yes, Simon, I want that more than anything,” he repeats, not bothering to hide his growing erection.

“Very good. And Jack’s story has such a good lesson for all of you,” Simon says, turning to face the rest of us. “The Organization is more important than any person in your lives. Say it!”

“The Organization is more important than any person in my life,” we repeat in unison. It seemed strange to say it, but maybe it was true. With Rachel gone, I was all alone now. Maybe the Organization could fill that hole in my life.


“The Organization is more important than any person in my life.”

“Now, we have someone new with us today. Walter, why don’t you introduce yourself to the group?”

I stand up, feeling embarrassed, not wanting to make eye contact with any of the expectant faces looking up at me. “Hi, everyone, my name is Walter.”

“Hi, Walter!”

“And I’m here because a former employee of mine recommended it. You see, I’ve been…” It’s hard to find the right words, especially while I’m trying to unbutton my shirt at the same time. “Well, I lost my wife six months ago. Rachel was her name. Beautiful woman. Love of my life. We were together nearly twenty years.” My voice is starting to quaver a bit as I unbutton my slacks.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Walter,” Simon has a compassionate look in his eyes, “Can you tell us more about what happened?”

“Cancer. Very aggressive. Um. She went very quickly. Not a lot of suffering. Which is a blessing, but…um…” I can feel my hands are starting to shake as I reach to pull down my underwear, and I fight to hold back the tears. “I’ve just been feeling a little lost.”

I stand there for a moment in front of the group, naked and trembling, before Simon stands up and gives me a big bear hug. It’s all so overwhelming, I break down sobbing into his muscular arms. Somehow, I don’t even mind that I can feel his half-hard dick poking against my inner thigh. It just feels warm and big and strong, just like Simon.

“That’s okay, that’s okay, let it all out,” Simon murmurs in my ear, “You’re safe here. You’re not lost anymore. You’ve found a home here at the Org. You’re loved here. Craig, Jack, come over here and show Walter how much he’s loved.”

I suddenly feel two more naked bodies and two more dicks pressing against me from behind. I’m encased in all directions by the bare skin of other men. There’s something strangely comforting about it. It’s been so long since anyone held or touched me so close. Ever since Rachel…

I break down sobbing on Simon’s shoulder again as he calls over the others to join the group hug, forming a clothed outer circle around the naked inner circle. And I’m the innermost circle. A circle in a star in a circle. An odd sense of calm rushes over me as the Org’s logo flashes through my head.

“See, Walter,” Simon says to me, “You are loved. That’s because the Organization is love. And you love the Organization. Say it.”

“The Organization is love. I love the Organization.” My voice sounds out in harmony with the other men in the circle.

“Again, louder!”

“The Organization is love! I love the Organization!”

The group hug breaks up after that, and I return to my seat. I have a slight erection, but I’m not too worried about that. It’s only natural with all that skin-on-skin contact.

I sit patiently and listen to the remaining group members as they tell their stories. There’s Ken, who tells us about how he felt suicidal when he lost half his retirement fund in bad investments. And Sam, who reveals that a few months ago he had a heart attack (at 45!) that made him terrified of his own mortality. And Hank, who can’t handle the stress of being sued for sexual harassment. And then Ed talks about his gambling addiction, but I have a hard time focusing on all the details because I can’t stop staring at his cock. Who knew that a short guy like Ed would have such a big one? And finally there’s Barry, who talks about how his porn habit got so bad his wife walked out on him.

As Barry finishes up his story and sits down, Simon stands up and says, “And now we’re all naked together. Look. Take a good look at each other. You have nothing to hide from each other. And you have nothing to hide from the Organization. Say it.”

“I have nothing to hide from the Organization,” we all chant.

“Very good. You’ve all been very good tonight. Very obedient. The Organization likes it when you are obedient. The Organization rewards you when you are obedient. So now it’s time for your reward. I want you to partner up with another member of the group.” I look over at Ed, tilt my head, and he walks over to stand next to me. “Now, each pair stand close to each other and face the screen.”

Simon pulls down the projector screen again and dims the lights. A moment later, a familiar low buzzing noise fills the room as a spinning pattern comes on the screen: a circle within a star within a circle. But there’s something else, something that keeps flashing within the inner circle. A cock. A hard cock. Now a hand. A hand around a hard cock. Now two hands. Two hands, each around a hard cock.

As a stare at the spiraling logo and the hard cocks on the screen, I feel a hand brushing over my crotch and reaching for my own dick. I’m already halfway hard, and after a few strokes, I’m fully erect. Not breaking my gaze from the screen, I reach down for Ed’s dick and return the favor. I like how it feels in my hand, such a heavy piece of meat. Ed’s a lucky man. And I want to make him feel good. As good as he’s making me feel. It’s our reward. For being so obedient to the Organization.

We’re both rock hard now, stroking each other as we stare at the screen, when suddenly the image changes. The two cocks begin spewing cum. Now! Cum now! With a grunt, I shoot my big load into Ed’s hand, and a second later, I feel his hot jism start running down my fingers.

Now that I’ve cum, I’m feeling very tired, so it’s such a relief when Simon tells us to sit back down, to sit back down and watch the screen as we listen to his voice.

I’m drifting in and out of consciousness now, so I don’t catch all of his words, but that’s okay. I’m getting all the important parts. I can hear him say, “…your conscious mind will not remember exactly what happened here tonight.” And “You need to come back here every evening for another group session.” And “Coming back to the Org makes you feel happy and sexy.”

And that’s all I need to know. I drift off to sleep in my chair, a smile on my face.

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