The Country Singer's Personal Sex Club

By James Creamwood

Lacy then explained in detail what membership would require, and the shocked little blonde blushed and said she would very much like to join his fan club. When Jackson started his last set, he nodded and Lacy took Becky upstairs.
The girls cleaned themselves and entered the Temple where Lacy gave Becky the Princess of The Golden Ring’s oath. Then Becky did the same for her. They both swore an oath of loyalty and secrecy among other things. It was agreed that all Princesses were sisters and would treat each other with loyalty and respect. Members also had to agree to share Jackson Steele without jealousy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Creamwood
• Release date: Dec 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005343132

James Creamwood

The author wishes to keep his private life confidential and does not desire to reveal any information about himself at this time.

Book preview

The Country Singer’s Personal Sex Club

By

James Creamwood

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Published by

James Creamwood at Smashwords

The Country Singer’s Personal Sex Club

Copyright © 2021 James Creamwood

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Adult 18+

Author’s Note: The material in this e-Book contains highly sexually and very explicit content and is intended for a mature audience only. If this is not of interest to you, please do not read. This ebook is licensed for your personal pleasure only. Thank you for being ethical and for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is fiction, which means it is a product of the author’s imagination. It is intended to be adults-only entertainment and should not be construed as real life. It definitely is not meant for children. A variation of these stories appearing in this book were previously released in some of the authors other works, and he personally combined these into the new book appearing here.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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Chapter 1

The day started out normally enough with Silas getting up late as usual. He didn’t worry about mundane things such as changing his clothes, or taking a bath. The drunkard felt that the filth helped fight the insects and keep the cold away. As usual, Silas took his large, black trash bag and started his daily walk.

It wasn’t for the sake of exercise that he did his daily tour. He searched the places where he might pick up a few empty deposit bottles. If he was lucky, he’d gather enough empties to purchase a cheap bottle of wine, or if he was extremely lucky, he might find enough for two. And thus, were the life’s ambitions of the dirty, homeless creature known as Silas Ryker.

This was Silas’ lucky day and the pickings were better than usual. After several hours, he was able to gather enough to purchase two bottles of rotgut. He was brimming with joy as he walked back with his treasure clutched tightly to his chest. He wasn’t going to take a chance on dropping and breaking his hard won gains.

As he made it back to his sanctuary under the bridge, he stopped and glanced around. Silas’ home under the bridge was damp and dark, but he liked it like that—it keeps the thieves away, he thought.

The truth was Silas didn’t have anything worth stealing. There were just some brown cardboard, old newspapers, and filthy rags he used for a bed. There was little else. The dampness was caused by the filthy, polluted river that ran under the central portion of the bridge. Each end of the steel structure had a dry area underneath unless the rains came and caused heavy flooding.

If events of that night had not intervened, Silas Ryker’s death would have quickly gone unmarked, unnoticed, and un-mourned. He had crawled out from under the bridge he called home and staggered down to the edge of the river to drain the piss from his full bladder.

Before getting his fly unzipped, he was only successful in soaking his filthy, black trousers. As he turned to go back to his home, he slipped on a rock and fell head first into the brown, filthy river water. Stoned out of his mind, Silas barely struggled as the foul water sought entrance into his nose and mouth. Fortunately, a log helped push him back to the shoreline without much effort on his part. He then lay there struggling for breath, just as much dead as alive.

Silas Ryker was an intelligent man. He had did well at college and even sang in several school theater productions. He had gained some success in that endeavor. Soon after finishing school, he meet an attractive female and they feel in love. They were married soon after that, and were living happily until tragedy struck.

One dark night Silas came home from work and was assaulted by a group of male, home invaders. He was knocked unconscious, and when he woke up, he found that his hands were tied behind his back as he lay on the bedroom floor. He managed to struggle to his feet and saw several men holding down his wife on the bed--and raping her.

He screamed and stumbled towards the bed, but a large man in a white shirt knocked him down on to the floor again. He heard one of the men say, Bring him over here and make him watch. Two of the men then picked him up off the floor, and shoved him down hard in a chair, and held him there. He tried to look away, but they forced him to watch as his sweetheart was sexually violated.

After what seemed an eternity, the men finally stopped. The man in the white shirt came over and whispered in his ear, We’re done with the little bitch, you can have her now. Then another man took a flowerpot and slammed Silas in the forehead, knocking him unconscious.

The police came and did an inspection of the crime scene. Weeks went by and the home invaders were never apprehended. His wife Jenny, became increasing worse as time pasted. She cried when he tried to touch her, and she barely spoke the rest of the time. She would sit for hours and stare out the windows or at the walls--it broke his heart to see her like that.

In desperation, Silas took Jenny away on a vacation where he thought the peace and quiet might calm her jittery nerves. He loaded up the RV and they drove from their home in Nashville up to Niagara Falls. She seemed to enjoy the falls, and he saw her smile for the first time in weeks.

Next, they drove to Las Vegas and then on to the Grand Canyon. The view at the canyon was spectacular, and they stood and watched it for some time. When he asked Jenny if she would like some water, and she had smiled weakly and nodded her head. Silas went to grab a couple of bottles of cold, liquid from the cooler—and he turned just in time to see his wife step off the canyon ledge.

Silas had dated other women after his wife’s death, but his cold, dead heart caused him to use them for his own sexual gratification, and degrade them whenever possible. He despised the women for being alive when his only true love was dead. He had been a social drinker, but after the home invasion, his drinking became more excessive, and his business started to suffer because of it.

Finally, he was not financially able to keep the doors open. His abusive behavior finally drove all of his friends away, and he cleaned out his bank account to finance his alcohol addiction. After that money ran out, he sold his house and car to keep his booze supply coming. More and more, he turned to the bottle and it eventually became his only friend.

Destitute, he left his home in Nashville, and fell in with some bums. He learned the drifter lifestyle as they taught him how to beg and steal, to survive. He used these new skills to support his addiction as he wandered around the country. This was the pattern of his life for a couple of years, until he fell into a dirty river.

Many people are able to recover when they hit bottom and realize their situation, but Silas hadn’t seemed to one of them. He hit bottom and clung there like a vine with all his strength, that is, until he almost died in the dirty river water. Silas had been little more than a dead man walking. This would have been his closing act in a short, miserable life, if not for the chance fall that led to his salvation.

Silas opened his eyes and quickly noticed that something was different. There was new clarity to the world that he had never experienced in quite some time. He had a hangover and some pain in his body, but otherwise, seemed in relatively good shape. He took a deep breath of the fresh air and starred up at the yellow sun in the blue, cloudless sky—it was more beautiful than he remembered.

Silas took a long look around and then headed back to his home under the bridge. He tried briefly to recall the events of last night, but he was not surprised that he couldn’t because he very seldom remembered events from one day to the next. Silas did remember almost drowning, and that sent a chill down his spine. He realized that he couldn’t keep living like this. He had to make changes to his life or he was going to end up dead.

As he stooped down to enter his home, he was surprised at how bright it was under the bridge. He could now easily observe into places he had not been able to see before. Silas looked around to confirm what he suspected and it all started to make sense to him now. After suffering years of hallucinations, he realized that he must be dreaming. Although, this dream was more vivid than most of the dreams he’d had--it was still not as good as his sex dreams.

One of his favorite fantasies involved a harem of sex slaves. He would envision a large number of beautiful women laying naked on a large waterbed with their legs spread wide showing him their little pussies. They would reach out their arms enticing him to come and satisfy them with his large penis.

Silas hadn’t had sex in many months; in fact the last time was with a prostitute he met outside of Dallas, Texas. He couldn’t maintain an erection, and the prostitute laughed calling him names. He became angry and slugged her, breaking her jaw. He tried getting away, but the cops were able to quickly track him without too much effort.

Silas was sentenced to six long months in jail for that, and almost died from the alcohol withdrawal pains--or at least, it felt that way to him. He had never felt such pain in his life. His experience with the prostitute was so awful that he never tried to have sex with a woman again. Now, he only had three things in his life, his alcohol, his sex dreams, and his right hand for sexual stimulation.

Silas noticed the half empty bottle of wine sitting by his bed, and picked it up to take a large drink. Almost immediately, he started gagging and spit out the wine.

The young man sat there shocked by the foul taste in his mouth and tried to say something but, his physical reaction to the cheap rotgut had robbed him of his voice. He just sat quietly for a moment, at a loss for words, but not really knowing what to say even if he could speak.

Silas was at a loss to explain the change that had come over him. He wondered if his near death experience had knocked some sense back into his foggy brain. If that’s what it took, then he was glad. He was tired of slowly dying and wanted to fully enjoy life again.

Chapter 2

Karen Davis watched the overweight, balding bartender bring her the drink she had ordered. He placed two coasters in front of her on the dark, wooden bar. He then set a cold beer on one coaster and a clear glass on the other. She paid him with a $20 bill and glanced around the bar as she waited for her change.

When he brought it, she indicated the glass and said, I don’t need that. Take it away. She then picked up the beer and pretended to take a sip. She was a small, attractive blonde wearing a brunette wig that spilled down to her shoulders and back. In her blue eyes, she wore green colored contact lens, and over them glasses with clear, non-prescription lens.

Karen carried a medium size black leather purse with a hidden pocket containing a 9 mm sub-compact Glock pistol. She was dressed in, a tight fitting white blouse, and a blue, above the knee skirt. She also wore flat bottomed, rubber soled black shoes attached to muscular, well-shaped legs. Karen didn’t like high heels because they were so unstable and restrictive in the event that an emergency should occur. The little blonde was an exercise fanatic with a strong frame concealed under a small, sexy body.

Karen glanced around the room before taking her beer and going to the ladies room. She went into one of the empty stalls and poured the cold beer into the toilet water. There was another woman in the sink area when she came out, so Karen fiddled around with the contents of her purse until the lady went into one of the stalls. She worked quickly to fill the empty beer bottle with water and then she returned to her still open seat at the bar.

Karen was not here tonight for the alcohol—in fact, she detested the stuff. The foul liquid was not helpful to maintaining the strong, healthy body she had worked so hard to get. And, alcohol taken in excess would dull the senses of any poor girl making them more vulnerable to lecherous, male predators. Karen took a drink of the water in her beer bottle and looked around surveying the customers in the smoky, dark bar.

The bar was only partially filled with a mix of both men and women because it was the middle of the week. However, she noticed there were several unaccompanied males present, and she knew from past experience they would come sniffing around before long.

Within a couple of minutes of making her observation, she noticed a blonde, well-tanned young man working his way over in her direction. He was very handsome and obviously took very good care of himself. As he approached, she positioned herself to face him with her beer in one hand and her purse in her other.

He was a gorgeous hunk she thought to herself as he walked her way holding a beer in his right hand. The man came up to her and was preparing to speak, but before he could get a word out, she said, Could you be a dear and hold my beer for a second?

Karen then gave him a big smile, handed him her drink and opened her purse pretending to be searching for something. She cautiously raised her eyes just enough to take a good look at his hands. She then closed her purse and reached out to retrieve her beer saying, You’re so sweet, thank you so much. The little blonde gave him a big smile and started to turn back towards the bar.

He quickly said, Excuse me miss, but could I buy you a drink?’ Karen turned back to face him and displayed another big smile before answering, Oh, that’s so nice of you, but I just finished a really hard day at work. I’m exhausted and I just want to sit here and relax for a little while. But, thank you so much." She then turned back and set her beer down on the bar.

Over the next half hour, she had three more males approach her, but, like the first man, they all were dead ends. Finally an older man came over and sat down in the seat next to her, pretending not to pay any attention to her. The man was middle-aged and was starting to lose his looks. His dark, black hair was starting to thin and he was putting on a little too much weight around the middle. He wore blue jeans with a red, checkered flannel shirt. The shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows exposing a couple of, muscular arms, and he had on a pair of scruffy-looking, black leather boots.

After several hidden glances at his hand, Karen finally discovered what she had been searching for. The marks on his ring finger indicated that a wedding ring had recently rested there. As she sat there, she began wondering when he was going to make his move. Finally, she heard him say, Excuse me, can I buy you drink?

The young blonde turned and looked into his eyes giving him her best smile, I would like that, thank you, she said.

My name is Jack, What’s yours, he asked sticking out his hand. Karen shook it and said, "I am glad to meet you Jack, my name is ‘Lacy.’"

They engaged in some small talk until she told him that she had get up early tomorrow. But, indicated that she might have time to stop by his place for just one quick drink. Jack declined saying that he shared an apartment with a friend whose girlfriend was there now, and he didn’t want to disturb them. This confirmed her suspicion that he was a low-down, cheating bastard with a wife waiting for him at home.

Karen stood pouring beer into a glass sitting on her brown, granite kitchen counter. Jack came up behind, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her on the back of the neck. He then turned her around and kissed her fully on her moist, Steele lips. After a