I am in theatrical, erotic game played with mutual
consent.
I like all kinds of role-play
- strict schoolteacher
- ManWoman for Girliboy
- Jailer
- Cross-dresser -Modelling school for girliboys
- Opener of male vaginas, - -Merciless doctor - Cowler,
- Corseter,
- Suspender;
- Binder,
- Listener, teller-
- Tamer,
- Pisser,
- Buggeress...
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When I was taking my first steps
as Maîtresse, with no photos on the Internet, I was asked, “Are
you beautiful?”
I used to hate describing myself. I felt it was humiliating. One cannot
claim one is beautiful because beauty has no criteria. It is foolish to
claim that one only loves intelligence, as it means setting oneself up
as cleverer than others by judging them stupid or vulgar. A mistress is
only a Goddess, an Ice Queen driven by “maternal coldness”
(thanks, Sacher), for the length of a dream, with the hope that the dream
is renewed as often as possible. While I am imperious during the special
moments, in everyday life may I keep my hieratic appearance but my heart
will never ice over.
I expressed this with derision in my book:
‘I have often been asked whether I am beautiful.
Sometimes I reply, “Yes. I’m dark and Latin-looking, with
long hair, dark brown eyes, sublime, intelligent, fantastic!” Smile...
When I want to ease the pain of the whip, I caress the aching parts with
my breasts. They are heavy, overflowing, full, maternal. I’m the
wrong sort of person with the right kind of style.
I was twelve. May last memory of the father who turned me on is of him
looking at a young woman, saying, “She has a slightly vulgar, loutish
side that attracts and fascinates men.”
”Daddy, do men marry women like that?”
”They do, dear, if they don’t want a boring life.”
I nurture a chic, sexy wardrobe. I wear black stockings, often with seams,
and stiletto heels, both around town and on the stage. With dishevelled
hair, short tapering skirts and waisted Mugler or Alaïa jackets,
I keep up that vulgar, slightly loutish side to my image, because I’m
instinctive and sensual. I’ll take hormones until I die to remain
a whole, bleeding woman in my sex and body, even if I’m a wild animal
in my head.” |
Francais 
