"I hate it when someone says they play the trumpet, and then they pull out a cornet!" said Harry Dangaphippe"I hear ya,” said Richard Widemouth in a...voice that sounded like it needed no more convincing. “Hey I’m brought you this big empty coffee can to save the spit from the trumpet spit valve." "Ok! Since a brass player is essentially forcing air between his lips and into the mouthpiece in order to make the sound, naturally a lot of... well... spit gets through as well. The spit valve is made. As a lot of the nudists were middle aged, fat and wrinkled, he was able to keep control without closing his eyes but the fucking waitresses all looked like beauty queens, naked ones at that.When the diminutive perky breasted server took his order he moved his chair as far as he could under the table. This allowed him the luxury of developing a big boner without causing himself any embarrassment.Just as he felt that he was getting control of the situation some fat old lady with a tits that hung. There came a time when he stood poised for the next man and no one came. It was over. He didn’t trust the peace enough to rest there.John went to the mouth of the cave and looked up at the top of the cliff. It was only ten feet above him. He started climbing. In seconds his arms began trembling with fatigue. His legs shook. He pulled himself up a foot. His fingers cramped as pulling up his weight stressed them. Pain shot through his arms. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. His. My clothes were taken away and hand and ankle cuffs fixed in place. A collar and lead around my neck. Ordered on my knees I was asked to re-iterate my requirements. A semi-erection helped me to overcome my fears and the thought that this was about to be the point of no return, I blurted out my perverted fantasy yet again. Feeling aroused I ended up requesting a 36 stroke caning after being milked dry..idiot!The female slave had disappeared and now returned naked apart from stockings and a some.