Maitresse Francoise

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.MyGenProfile GeneratorI 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. My 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.”Join Me here at My forum and English is spoken! This is My website...This is My toplist! My work is here...