“To entertain you beautiful girls is such a wonderful pleasure for me!” Louis Chabrol beamed. He raised his champagne glass in a toast. “Beirut, of course, is full of lovely women, but our city has never been graced by a more charming and adorable couple! To you, my darlings-and to our closer friendship!”
Lisa and Kathleen giggled and finished their fourth glass of bubbly, the pink lights of the night-club dancing before Lisa's eyes as she let the frothy, tickling champagne wash down her throat. Chabrol snapped his fingers and a waiter hurried to their secluded table. Quickly, a new bottle was place in the ice-bucket and the suave, polished and decadently-handsome owner of “Bacchus Cavern” (situated underground on the Avenue des Francois) refilled their glasses to the brim.
“I feel as if I know you intimately already,” Chabrol murmured, laying a soft, manicured hand on Lisa's knee. “Kathleen has been telling me so much about you…” The girl made no attempt to move her leg away, although the Frenchman's hand was straying gently under the hem of her dress-his fingers caressing lightly into her thigh. Instead, Lisa closed her eyes and let the pulsing of her blood merge with the subdued rhythms of the dance-band; feeling pleasantly tipsy and completely uninhibited.
Even with her eyes open, the club's decor and size was indistinct. The dim lighting, casting a rosy glow everywhere, made it impossible to judge exactly how large or small the room was: and after her generous helping of champagne Lisa felt too light-headed to care about her surroundings. She knew that the night-club was fantastically expensive and that Miss Wynter couldn't possibly have afforded to take her to it unless they had been guests of the owner. But it seemed right that she should be here; Lisa felt utterly, wonderfully at home in this indolent, de luxe atmosphere, sipping vintage champagne and listening to the steady stream of compliments paid her by the sophisticated Chabrol. She sighed, almost purring with pleasure, and eased her legs discreetly apart so that Louis could place his hand on her already moist and quivering sex-mound…
They were sitting side by side at the alcoved table, with Kathleen opposite-her breasts spilling ripely out of a low-cut evening gown as she leaned towards them. This was Lisa's fourth month in Beirut. She had settled in at the school, quickly overcoming a brief bout of homesickness, and her circle of friends had increased rapidly. During the hot summer months her body had developed a beautiful tan; bronzing deeply through the long hours she spent at the breaches, sunning herself and swimming in the beautifully clear blue sea. Lisa and Kathleen had succeeded in keeping their liaison a closely guarded secret, and even Candice Badel-Lisa's first love affair at the school-hadn't realised that the teacher and her pupil were very intimate friends.
Lisa had met Louis Chabrol on several occasions. With her quick mind and intuition, the schoolgirl understood only too well-although Miss Wynter didn't seem to appreciate it-that the Frenchman was primarily interested in her, and that he encouraged the woman to visit his night-club and joined their weekend beach-parties because he was planning the seduction of Lisa!
Not that Chabrol had made any open advances towards the girl. Oh, no! Not yet, Lisa told herself with a smile. He was clearly too experienced, too practised in the art of corrupting young girls to try to force his attention on her during the early stages of their friendship. No, Chabrol was biding his time, Lisa had decided. And tonight..
Well, either his patience was now exhausted-or he considered that the time was now ripe for her to be captured and added to his famous 'collection'! Rather like one of his notorious butterfly specimens, she thought wryly.
For the night-club owner had two, equally renowned, hobbies: he collected butterflies from all parts of the world, pinning the insects in giant glass display cases which lined the walls of his office; and he prized these above all his other possessions. It was also whispered that he took almost as great a pride in his other hobby: adding young (and preferably virginal!) girls to a long list of sexual conquests-which he kept methodically up-to-date in a locked and secret ledger…
Lisa didn't mind the thought of being one of Chabrol's playthings. She was eager, in fact, to widen her experience; realising that-with the exception of her stepbrother-her sexual partners had all been female so far. Not completely drunk yet, the girl opened her eyes and appraised the man, staring frankly at Chabrol, noting his attractive silver hair-parted in the middle and giving a distinguished yet somehow boyish appearance to his smooth, unlined features. She wondered what colour his eyes were. It was impossible to see them clearly through the smoked-lensed spectacles which he constantly wore; but she decided that they were probably blue, since-despite his indubitably French background-Chabrol certainly had more than a trace of Nordic blood in him. How old was he? Lisa remembered that Kathleen (she no longer thought of her late Governess as Miss Wynter) had known him several years ago, which placed him in his midthirties at least. And yet he seemed, to Lisa's eyes, of indeterminate age; certainly more handsome and debonair than any of her father's friends at any rate.
“I must invite you to one of my skiing parties,” Chabrol whispered to her. “Up on the mountains at this time of year the climate is simply perfect. And we could get to know each other… more intimately, perhaps?”
His hand was now pressing firmly into Lisa's sex, the smooth white fingers probing down the front of her pubic bulge and making a furrow in her panties. Lisa rubbed her thigh against Chabrol's leg. She felt an irresistible urge to rest her head on his shoulder, but instead contended herself with discreetly allowing her own hand to fall onto his lap; feeling with surprise the enormous length and stiffness of his cock. It had grown to a full erection already, the hard flesh twitching under her fingers as she closed them more tightly around the shaft. Chabrol was wearing a thin pair of white trousers, and Lisa was sure that these were the only obstacle between her hand and his prick: he couldn't be wearing underpants! The shape of his knob was too well-defined, its contours too exposed for there to be another garment stretched over it!
Yet the man's voice continued on a more or less even level as he chatted to her about the ski resort high above Beirut where he owned a villa, betraying no evidence of the excitement which Chabrol must surely be feeling at their mutual fondling…
Kathleen's eyes were glazed and she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her head from dropping sleepily forward. She vaguely realised that Lisa and her ex-lover were engaged in rather more than casual social chitchat, but she couldn't focus her attention properly. However, when Chabrol stood up and eased Lisa's chair back-remarking that he was going to show the girl his famed butterfly collection-even the tipsy Miss Wynter became aware that Chabrol's sex was bulging obscenely against the fly of his trousers!
She forced herself to climb to her feet, clutching at the table for support, insisting in a slurred but raised voice that she couldn't, with propriety, leave Lisa on her own with him!
Chabrol seemed to realise that Kathleen was quite capable of creating a scene in his night-club if he didn't bow to her wishes. Smoothly controlling a flash of anger towards the woman, he gave her one of his most charming smiles and protested that-naturally! — he had no intention of excluding her from his invitation…
Gallantly taking her arm, with his other hand on Lisa's hip-the fingers moving lightly through the filmy silk of the evening gown, rubbing over the quite beautiful swell of the girl's curves as she walked close beside him-Chabrol led them to his private office. Lisa deliberately undulated her buttocks as they climbed a short flight of thickly-carpeted stairs at the rear of the club, and was gratified to feel the man's hand slide immediately downwards… resting for a few exciting moments on the flank of her arse and fondling the rounded flesh, leaving her in no doubt whatsoever about his intentions…
Leaving Kathleen to sink bleary-eyed into an easy chair, Chabrol paused only to lock the door and dim the lights before he swept Lisa into a tight embrace; holding her lithe, but well-proportioned young body against him until she panted for breath. Hard against her belly, Lisa could feel the virile throbbing of Chabrol's cock: its powerful surging making her giddy with desire, although she wondered with a twinge of alarm whether her very narrow pussy would be able to take such a monster-without suffering acute distress…
He was resting his cheek against hers, running his hands slowly up and down Lisa's back, his lips murmuring close to her ear. The words were French, but the girl understood only too well the kind of language Chabrol was using! His voice grew husky and confidential, speaking directly into her ear now, and Lisa shuddered involuntarily as his fingers stole through her long, brilliantly blonde hair, gently sweeping the soft tresses away from her neck so that his hand could caress at the nape and feel for the zipper which fastened her gown.
As he slid the dress with tantalising slowness over her shoulders, Lisa felt his lips burning suddenly on her exposed neck. The quivering wetness of his tongue licked against her skin, travelling gradually beneath her ear-lobe and then-before Lisa could twist her head away-lapped over the dry, fleshy pearl and darted quickly into the orifice itself!
An unbearable tickling sensation gripped her. She tried to dislodge the probing, seeking tongue, but Chabrol persisted-keeping his face pressed against her head and licking deeply into her ear, turning his tongue-tip around and around, crushing her body with his surprisingly strong arms until Lisa's moaning became a helpless, sobbing cry of erotic anguish…
Finally, he relented. Withdrawing his tongue, Chabrol framed her face with his hands and forced her to look him in the eyes.
“You're feeling very hot, mon petite cherie!” he whispered, his breath warm and sweet from the champagne. “I think you should slip off your lovely gown-ah, like so!”
And he dropped his hands onto Lisa's shoulders, shaking them gently until the girl's dress rustled away from her body and fell in loose folds around her ankles. Lisa stood very close to Chabrol, her tight, pale blue panties swathed to her hips and loins; her breasts heaving as she breathed in deep, tremulous spasms. The brassiere which she wore had been cleverly designed to thrust her breasts together and the close-fitting cups lifted the orbs, squashing them halfway out of the lace-trimmed semi-circles-with the rest of the bra-material so transparent that the dark red studs of her nipples showed enticingly through the flimsy silk.
Controlling himself for the moment, Chabrol stepped back slightly so that he could admire the girl's semi-naked charms. He kept both his hands on Lisa's shoulders, molding the well-fleshed bones under his fingers, and let his eyes travel slowly downwards…
Lisa swayed and her body no longer seemed to be under her authority; her legs were trembling so violently that she felt sure they would buckle beneath her if Chabrol's strong hands hadn't been clasping her shoulders so tightly. Gooseprickles of delight tickled her skin as the man's eyes moved appraisingly over her bosom, her belly-and finally remained fixed for several moments on the region of her crotch. She knew that he was carefully studying the outline of her sex-lips-and Lisa was fully aware that the two fleshy portals had grown extremely prominent in the past few years. They had become plumper, largely because of the constant fondling they had received; both from Kathleen and Candice, whose fingers had pinched and pulled at the juicy flaps until they responded to the frequent caresses by ripening into two large, sleekly fat lips that could be wiggled between a clever forefinger and thumb, then drawn outwards to an amazing degree.'
Chabrol gently persuaded her to turn around. His hot eyes gleamed behind the smoked glass of his spectacles, a sibilant whisper escaping his lips as he stooped a little in order to gaze at the girl's bottom from a more advantageous position. The cheeks pouted beautifully; swelling out beneath the tightness of the bikini briefs and quivering very slightly as Lisa subtlely contracted the muscles. A few inches of the white globes were actually nude: protruding from the panties in a sexy exposure, the snowy hue of the skin contrasting sharply with the deep tan of the girl's bare thighs.
“Exquisite!” Chabrol murmured. “Absolutely delightful!” He drew himself up to his full height again, kissing along Lisa's shoulder until his lips had worked one of her bra-straps loose. Expertly, he transferred his mouth to her other shoulder-licking and sucking at the skin, finally biting at the thin second strap and easing it over the girl's rounded shoulder-bone.
Chabrol now pressed himself tightly against Lisa, his hands caressing into her nude midriff. He kissed more fervently into the back of her neck and slowly brought his right hand up onto her breast. Through the loosened bra-cup he could feel the titty resting plumply under his palm. Its nipple strained against the silk, seeming to burst through the thin material in a rich, red ripeness-and when his finger roved across the bud, Lisa thrust her breasts forward, urging her teat more closely to the man's probing digit…
Gently but firmly, Chabrol eased first one and then the other breast free of its warm confinement. He eased the soft globes out of their brassiere, then swiftly unhooked the hasp which kept the halter tautly stretched across Lisa's back. The bra dropped soundlessly to the floor, and Lisa strained her bosom proudly upwards to make the curves lift as high as possible under Chabrol's fondling hand. He massaged her young breasts with a masterful, gloriously arousing motion of his fingers; shaping the titties as if he were examining them for the tiniest blemish…
Between her arse-cheeks, Lisa could feel the hard length of his prick. It was hotter now, thrusting with such a powerful vigour that she suddenly realised it must be free of Chabrol's trousers!
Yes! Surreptitiously, the Frenchman had slid his pants down and stepped out of them-and his naked shaft was now throbbing fiercely against her scantily-covered bottom! Lisa moaned with a deep, soulful sigh; the penis was far larger and thicker than she had supposed, its uncoiled length pulsing mightily as Chabrol pressed his loins forward and began to rub the cock up and down her warm, silkily-protected buttocks.
Meanwhile, his other hand had slipped over Lisa's belly and was stroking firmly into the bulge of her pubis: the fingers moving across the little mound and easing gradually down its centre-exaggerating the furrow between the girl's cunt-lips and making the cleft widen more prominently. Moisture, hot and glutinous, seeped through the silk and onto his questing fingers. A dark stain appeared at Lisa's crotch, spreading slowly and shamefully down the vee of her briefs, and her sex throbbed with pleasure as Chabrol stroked it to a steady, rhythmical climax.
Squirming around in his arms, Lisa offered her wet, open mouth to the man. She tilted her head, gasping with excitement as Chabrol's lips clamped suddenly on hers and his rapidly-quivering tongue slid between her teeth. Frantically, the girl rocked her crotch backwards and forwards, hammering it against the virile knob which reared so God-like from the man's loins. Her breasts flattened in a squashing, bulging warmth as Chabrol hugged her to his chest, and for several long minutes they stood with their arms around each other-kissing and embracing, their bodies clamped together as if joined by glue.
Kathleen Wynter, slumped deeply in her easy chair, her evening gown rucked up high over her thighs-exposing not only the whole length of her legs but also the enticing wedge where her cunt-lips kissed each other under the pressure of her panties-was only vaguely aware that Chabrol was seducing Lisa before her eyes. She had sat quite still for the past few minutes in a pleasant stupour, but she now realised that her right hand still held a champagne glass; carried in from the club half-unconsciously. Smiling tipsily, she raised the glass to her lips-and mistimed the gesture rather badly, pouring the bubbly in a cold trickling into the deep cleavage of her dress!
She squealed with shock and the ice-cold liquor brought her abruptly to her senses. Shuddering, Kathleen began to mop ineffectually at the spilt drink. In doing so, she considerably loosened the top of her gown; enabling one cheeky, thrustful breast to pop right out of its bra-cup!
When she saw Lisa and Chabrol-their bodies rubbing urgently together, the girl's briefs already being tugged slowly over her hips by Kathleen's ex-lover-the Governess decided that it hardly mattered if her bosom was exposed!
A little indignant that Chabrol should have used her merely to seduce the younger girl, Kathleen nevertheless shrugged off her resentment and decided not to interfere with their love-making. It might even prove instructive, she thought, to see how Louis performed with Lisa… And she freed her other breast, pulling the gown and its cunningly-devised, built-in brassiere right away from her chest, boldly revealing both of her buxom beauties and sticking them out proudly: though, unfortunately, neither Chabrol nor Lisa was paying her any attention! Kathleen decided that she might just as well dispense with her clothing altogether. After all, Louis-having slid Lisa's panties completely over the girl's legs-was now swiftly unbuttoning his shirt. She saw no reason why she shouldn't join them in their nudity-even if she wasn't permitted to play an active role in their coupling.
Even though she was drunk, Kathleen knew better than to interfere with Chabrol's pleasure. Perhaps on another occasion, when he had savoured Lisa's body and knew the girl more intimately, he would encourage her to participate. But for now… Kathleen wriggled completely out of her dress and slipped one hand firmly down the front of her panties, pushing two of her fingers into the slightly moist cleft of her sex and playing with the slit while she watched the couple. Yes, she giggled to herself. It would be nice to sit here quietly and fondle my quim while they do all the work of exciting me! Kathleen drew her legs up and settled herself into a comfortable position, pausing to drain off the rest of her champagne and then concentrating on her private, skilful wanking…
After she had experienced some five minutes of Chabrol's experienced fondling, Lisa's passion had been aroused to a crescendo. She clung to his neck, her naked body twisting and thrusting against him, the reddened lips of her cunt pressing and rubbing at Chabrol's prick: pressing the knob with a pleasing, sensuous massage as the girl moved up and down-stretching on the tips of her toes to make contact with his iron-timbered sex. Chabrol eventually decided that she was ripe for his particular brand of love-making. He eased the girl steadily towards an ottoman which lay at one side of his luxuriously-fitted office: a large, red-velvet covered antique which happened to face towards the easy chair where Kathleen was slowly masturbating. Lisa was putty in his arms. She would do anything for this wonderful man! He had given her more thrills in the first minutes of their meeting than either Richard or Kathleen! And when Chabrol gently insinuated her body across one plush arm of the ottoman; positioning her so that she was resting her breasts on the soft, spacious velvet arm-her head and her hair dangling over its side and her knees, nicely apart, pressing into the deep cushions-Lisa willingly adopted the pose. She knew that the attitude of her bottom gave him a revealing view of her sex-its upward-thrusting globes enabling the Frenchman to see every particular of her unavoidably opened cunt-but she assumed that Chabrol merely wanted to caress these private quarters…
Lisa was quite unprepared for the next stage of her seduction!
The astute and versatile Chabrol knelt behind her, crouching low so that he could pass one hand beneath the girl's crotch. He brought his fingers up, bending them at the second joint and pressing them tightly against Lisa's streamingly wet pussy, then coaxed the slit more widely open by applying the tips of his fingers to the sticky, swollen lips. It required every ounce of iron determination for Lisa to remain passive during this slow, tickling penetration. She could feel the furnace of her quim blazing up as Chabrol fondled with such infuriating care into the slot: his fingers peeling the treacly membranes apart and inching oh-so-gradually upwards…
But this was merely a preliminary! When he judged that the girl had been sufficiently provoked, Chabrol changed hands-bringing his right arm across the front of Lisa's belly and transferring his fingers so smoothly that the girl scarcely realised that her cunt was now being fondled by a new set of digits. The love-juice which was liberally smeared on his previously frigging fingers was wiped carefully on Chabrol's penis. He lubricated the shaft with Lisa's sex-cream, and was pleased to discover that several dewdrops of his own spunk had seeped out of his cock; enabling him to mix the two liquids together and thoroughly grease his knob from crown to hilt. When he had finished, the rod shone with a glistening, oily polish: its flesh was sticky to the touch, the plump arrow of the crest especially well-annointed.
This lubrication was vital-as Lisa was soon to appreciate!
Chabrol held his rigid penis around its base, bending the thick member until its pointed phallus was again nudging between the girl's arse-cheeks. He breathed harshly as he felt the meaty hole of the anus contract against his prick. The probing crown was now sticking upwards-at a perfect angle for penetration-and Chabrol frigged more violently into Lisa's cunt (wanting to stimulate her until she was willing to permit any cruelty-even the violent fucking of her arse!)
At first, through the red mists of her ecstasy, Lisa though that her lover had misjudged his aim. The enormous shaft couldn't possibly hope to cram into her rear passageway! Why… it would be difficult enough for it to fuck her tender little pussy, let alone-!!
“Ahhggg!” The choked, frantic scream rang from Lisa's mouth as if her body had suffered an extreme electric shock. She went white with pain, every nerve in her body flashing danger signals to her brain. A searing hotness flooded up into her bowels, the dry entrance suddenly ripped into a wider cavity than it had ever experienced as Chabrol ruthlessly fucked his prick into the tight, fragile little anus!
Lisa felt too weak to struggle. The agony of feeling her arsehole being impaled on such a terrifyingly large stick seemed to numb her; freezing all action and making the girl grow limp with nervous exhaustion. The pain reached a zenith as Chabrol's cock drove to its limit and remained in her anus, quite still and throbbing with a controlled, even rhythm. Soon, Lisa was able to catch her breath and stop the terrified whimpering which bubbled from her trembling lips. The fierce poker still agonised her, but she felt irrationally proud that she hadn't fainted-that she had borne its terrible first onslaught with relative composure.
And now that the worst was so obviously over, Lisa cautiously moved her buttocks; experimenting to find out if the hard engine which was lodged in her arse would give her a similar sensation to being fucked in the more usual orifice. It was a strange, disquieting feeling… She was aware of an emptiness in her cunt, a curiously hollow emotion along the passageway to her womb, while the rear entrance contained all the stiff flesh it was capable of holding…
Chabrol allowed her to recover from his unexpected attack. He waited, enjoying the extremely tight pressure which surrounded his knob, softly caressing the outer lips of Lisa's sex and crouching closely over the girl, his mouth kissing her quivering back as if she was a terrified doe caught in a trap. When he considered that she was now ready to receive a thorough arse-fucking, he began to ease his tightly-clamped cock slowly backwards… withdrawing the hot-blooded penis an inch at a time and savoring every moment of its passage through the humid, red-tinged meat of Lisa's anus. Before the spearhead could slip free of the small, bruised mouth, Chabrol checked the movement. He paused for a few seconds, then fucked forward again-driving his rod back into the puckered shit-place and leaning his weight on the girl until it slid beautifully to its hilt once more.
Lisa was prepared this time. She concentrated on keeping her sphincter as relaxed as possible, facilitating the thrust of Chabrol's dick by yielding passively to its thick progress along her rear tube.
At the third inward lunge, Lisa actually began to enjoy the sensation! She screwed her arse-cheeks around in a provocative, encouraging undulation; shamelessly flaunting her hind-quarters and pushing her buttocks strenuously against the incoming prick. The cheeks rubbed intimately into Chabrol's crotch each time he fucked forward, moving reluctantly but briefly away from the hairy loins as he withdrew.
Gradually, the momentum of his arse-fucking increased. Chabrol was now driving lustily in and out of the forbidden slot, working his cock furiously back and forth-reaming out the brown tunnel until Lisa's response was as violent as his hot lunges; her uptilted bottom waggling around, her breasts shimmying as they hung loosely over the arm of the ottoman. She went into rut-jerking her hips insanely and crying out in fevered, sobbing phrases that her cunt was filling with cream…
“Fuck me! Fuck me!!” Lisa urged shrilly. “Stick it into me-harder, harder, you bastard! Oh, I could shit all over your prick! It's so stiff! It's fucking right through my body! I'm going to come-I'm going to come out of my arse, you beautiful fucker!!”
Chabrol stabbed more and more violently into her anus, his strokes keener now-his hard-fucking weapon ploughing and slewing through the wet, shitty meat as Lisa spurred him on with her obscene, crazed ranting.
Facing them, now leaning forward and scrabbling wildly into her cunt, Kathleen watched the couple in profile: seeing her ex-lover's cock poking vigorously into the girl's arse-now disappearing between the raised, urgently working cheeks, now sliding free of them and pausing for a second or two, poised at the darling's white buttocks, its stalwart red length quivering with naked violence before it again sank out of view and fucked into its dark, wetly welcoming domain… Suddenly, after a frantic series of jerks that sent Chabrol's prick rapidly in and out of Lisa's anus, the pair locked together-their bodies shuddering with the joy of simultaneous orgasm. Kathleen's eyes lost their focus. She frigged her quim until the slit dripped with come, whipping the long forefinger of her right hand in a rapid motion that scratched at the red, juicy walls and made her thighs pump open-and-shut. And with the excitement of her own climax, the woman no longer cared that she was excluded from the far more ecstatic union which Lisa and Chabrol were sharing…
This was the pinnacle of Lisa's sexual experience so far. She had never, in her most erotic daydreams, imagined that an orgasm could be so violently thrilling-especially without being aided by the penetration of her cunt! But the gouts of spunk which Chabrol was shooting into her arse more than compensated for any lack in her sex-slit: as he fucked stream after stream of thick, curdling cream through her anus and skewered her much-stretched bum-hole on his massive shaft.
The girl collapsed into a mind-expanding, pyrotechnical world of flaming suns and multi-coloured star patterns; her senses reeling uncontrollably with each pulse of the man's knob. Comets flared before her closed eyelids, bursting into showers of lumpy, porridge-textured spunk that rained heavily over her body and filled her nostrils with the pungent smell of male sperm.
As Lisa tightened her sphincter, involuntarily contracting the deep muscles of her arse, Chabrol felt his sex being squeezed by a powerful, fleshy vice. He thrust the prick in and out-fucking twice more into the girl's sodden, rigidly-clamping tube of a shitter-and ejaculated another, final, flow of semen into her bowels before his orgasm was spent…
Lisa emerged from this shattering experience a fully-grown woman: not only in a physical sense, but also psychologically. She had been brought abruptly to maturity, her always-present sensuality ripened into full flower by Louis Chabrol's violent seduction. From him, and the other men who were to follow in swift succession, Lisa learnt that her body was a magical garden where thrilling and often strange seeds could grow; it was an oasis, a watering-place for quick or gradual desire, and she came-in the years of her late adolescence-to realise that her sex (that small, private and ever-moist cleft between her thighs) attracted worshippers both male and female… all of them anxious to sacrifice their lust at its deep, possessive fount.
Thus began Lisa's true separation from her step-brother. From this time on, she diverged in ways both spiritual and emotional from Richard: enveloping herself in a world of growing eroticism, sharing the delights of her body with any healthy man or woman who cared to seduce her. And the easy tempo of life in the Lebanon also inclined Lisa towards a more introspective nature, there being no necessity for the girl to concern herself with materialism or financial worries.
Kathleen Wynter remained as a constant companion, but Lisa was drawing further and further away from the ex-Governess as well. During the first few months in Beirut, the woman was useful to Lisa; but when she had exhausted Kathleen's few contacts in the city, the girl no longer bothered about her faithful teacher… making new friends without Kathleen's aid and gradually excluding her from the parties and the sexual orgies which Lisa attended every weekend.
Fortunately for her, Kathleen was too loyal to betray the girl to John Cunningham. She remembered the debt which she owed Lisa and Richard: and Kathleen now repaid their silence by writing encouraging letters to their father, telling him that Lisa was proving to be a model pupil-“a shining example to the other girls at Byblos,” she lied shamelessly…
There was only one vital link now existing between the step-brother and sister. Their deep-rooted and omnipresent obsession with each other made it impossible for either Lisa or Richard to sustain a relationship with a third person…