I could feel it on my belly. He tried to play it off and spoke some of the first words in a few minutes. “How long have you been dressing up like a ...irl?” “Not long.” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. He said, “Well let me see you.” I stood up and showed him. My eye shadow had run and made it look like I had black eyes, but everything else was in place. “Well, I have to admit,” he said, “You make one hot slut.” I was so excited to look good and a little relieved I did not seem to be. I scream. My right breast is on fire. The crop hit the top of my mound. I cannot help it and look down, to see the angry red stripe, crossing the front of my breast. He pauses, to let it sink. I know the drill; nine more on my right breast; the last three on the sensitive areola and the last one smack on the nipple. Again the crop falls, and again I scream; two stripes cross my breast, then three, then four; each one closer to my nipple; each one more painful, my screams more shrill, more. And missing the ferry results in 6 to 12 hours waiting time, depending on the destination (Lithuania,Poland and other north eastzern countries)O.k., back to the story: Irene just waved special1 hello and pointed him to have a seat. He took a seat, but pulled it over to the side of her counter. No time for smalltalk anyways, as Irene had to manage the cases and had to concentrate on that.Driver1 was a bit grumpy that he didn’t get the usual welcome kiss and then he did, what made Irene almost. He kissed the small of her back where the curve of her spine, in concave undulation, met the top of her buttocks. His dry lips brushed across her skin, pausing to kiss and to taste her.She shivered momentarily as the rasp of his stubble traversed across her spine, and giggled lightly as it tickled and raised goose bumps to form.Sabine turned over to lie on her side, facing him. She looked into his deep set, brown eyes that regarded her intently, as if studying her for the first time, drinking.