Some readers might find my use of Madame or the abbreviation Mme in this story a little formal or old fashioned. This I have done quite deliberately for two reasons. First, the story takes place in rural France where the old fashioned rules of politeness are still observed. With the family, close friends or children forenames and informal (2nd person singular) pronouns are the norm. However outside this circle, Monsieur, Madame and formal (2nd person plural) pronouns are considered the correct form of address unless one is asked to do otherwise. My second reason, I hope, will become clear during the course of the narrative.
I have also from time to time used a few French expressions in the text. Some I have explained, the others I hope can be worked out from the context.
Madame Sylvie de Bellecorps was a very kind and generous lady. Rather too generous some of the women would say, as they gossiped in the hairdressers' salon or the village shop. Mme. Sylvie, as she was generally known, had been one of the principal subjects of village gossip for over twenty years.
How is it though, that someone could be accused of being too generous?
Should you ask any of these gossiping ladies you certainly wouldn't receive an answer. Their attitude to outsiders was if you know you don't need to ask, and if you don't know they are certainly not going to tell you.
So what clues can we get from looking at Sylvie de Bellecorps herself?
She stands a little taller than the average height for women of that region. She is slim without being skinny, her long legs lead the eye up to a nicely rounded bottom and her figure is curvaceous but, not out of proportion to her slender frame. Her long black hair she often wears in a loose bun on the back of her head. In short, she is attractive but unremarkable. At first glance, similar to many women one might see in any street, in any town, anywhere in France.
To learn more we need to look more closely.
Imagine, if you will, that we are sitting outside the Bar du Marché sipping cold beer in the warm spring sunshine and looking out over the market square of Puy Saint Martin; the village in which the lady in question lives. From a house on the other side of the square a woman, Mme Sylvie, emerges and walks purposefully past us and towards the village shop a hundred or so metres away down Rue Grande. What do we see?
Firstly, our eyes are naturally drawn to this attractive young looking woman in a light, slightly clingy, summer dress crossing the empty square. As she passes us, our eyes follow and we notice that her bottom wiggles alluringly, this natural movement accentuated by the way that she walks.
What else might we notice?
By the way this lady holds herself, she appears a little taller than her stature. Her walk and her posture speak of an unshakable self-assurance, of total ownership of the space around her. Perhaps this superiority of bearing, and the air of haughtiness might be because she is the daughter of a once aristocratic and still highly respected local family. However, any of her friends and neighbours will tell you that in her everyday dealings she is just as down to earth as anyone else, not at all as haughty as she might appear. No, her walk tells of something else, something feline, and predatory almost, but this predator does not need to go out hunting. Just like a spider, she only has to wait for her prey to come willingly to her. Here, with the aid of a little inside knowledge, I could tell you that her walk may speak of ownership, but it shouts.
"Here I am boys! Come and get me if you think you are man enough!"
What of this soubriquet 'Madame Sylvie?'
She is not married, however she is of an age where strangers would address her as Madame as a common courtesy. But, to call her Mme. Sylvie, that was different and a little special. Not plain Sylvie or Mme de Bellecorps, always in the village she is called Mme Sylvie. This could merely be a hangover from the time when the peasantry would call their younger superiors by Monsieur, Madame, or Mademoiselle appended to their forenames, but those days have long since past.
A teacher perhaps?
Well, yes and no, as we shall see later. There is another class of woman who adopts the title of Madame, certain 'Professional Ladies.' No, neither was she a 'Professional Lady' - well not of that sort. Mme Sylvie earned her living as Sous-directrice, under manager, of one of the supermarkets in the nearby town. That soubriquet had been applied to her by some sharp-tongued gossip several years ago. It stuck and soon came into common usage within the commune of Puy Saint Martin.
So why had this name been given?
The explanation is simple: Mme Sylvie made absolutely no secret of the fact that she was happy to welcome many guests, both male and female, between her legs. She had been, and still was, something of a wild child, a free sprit. As a child, she would habitually run and play naked in the fields that surrounded her home. It was often quite a struggle for her mother to persuade her to get dressed when they were supposed to be going out, and more especially when it was time for young Sylvie to go to school.
At school she was always the first to show off in the 'I'll show you mine, if you show me yours' games that children will always play. She was sexually precocious, navigating the traitorous waters of her puberty a year or two in advance of most of her peers. Still very young, she discovered the intense pleasure that could be found through masturbation, and in her early teens gave up her virginity in much the same casual way as one might discard a fast-food wrapper. That barrier to her pleasure had held no significance to her whatsoever.
At the age of nineteen, through the generosity of a bequest from a wealthy uncle, Sylvie, as she was still called then, left the family home and set herself up in the house on the Place de la Revolution where she still lived sixteen years on. With her inheritance, she was able to buy the house outright, along with her car, a now aging small Citroën, and the few luxuries that she enjoyed. On the whole, she lived quite simply and unostentatiously. Her salary from the supermarket easily covered the modest expenses of her everyday life.
Her home was decorated in the dark rich colours typical of many French houses, but her decorations were executed with an added flair and an extra touch of richness that separated them from the mundane. Her bookshelves groaned under the weight of many volumes of erotic literature. Her walls were adorned with expensive, tasteful, erotic prints, and she possessed an impressive and wide ranging collection of pornographic DVDs. Some of her visitors remarked that her living room resembled the parlour of an expensive turn-of-the-century Parisian brothel; though they would never admit where they had gathered the comparative data.
From my description some might think of this woman as an easy lay, 'the village bicycle' as some English might put it, but that would not be entirely fair. Yes, it was true that over the years Mme Sylvie had many lovers, both men and women. It was also true that many of these had been left exhausted by their efforts to satisfy her heroic libido. In her teenage years, it cannot be denied that she had been less than discerning in her choice of partners and almost scandalously indiscreet in the choice of locations for her frequent romps. Maturity may not have lessened her drive, but it had brought discretion and a more thoughtful choice of lovers. Her potential lovers would, at the very least, have to show in public a suitable level of respect and politeness, also not be the type to 'kiss and tell.' In private, however, their behaviour would depend on just what roles Mme Sylvie had chosen for her and her lover, or lovers, (she was not adverse to threesomes or moresomes), to play on that occasion. It was also unlikely that anyone who could not perform up to her expectations would receive a second invitation to share her bed.
It was rumoured that hanging over her unusually large antique bed was a mirror almost as big as the bed itself. Though even when pressed hard, no one would confirm or deny that rumour, least of all the lady herself. Discretion was all part of the mystique that surrounded Madame Sylvie and her many lovers.
Despite what might be said by the village gossips, Sylvie de Bellecorps was greatly respected and regarded as an asset to village life. Should husbands stray or wives get bored with the routine of the marital bed, it was well known where they might be found. And many a young man or girl had learnt to become accomplished lovers at her freely given tutelage. She was not these days indiscreet. She didn't flaunt herself by wearing slutty clothes. She dressed, in public at least, very well and quite modestly, although the power of her sexuality always shone through even her drabbest outfits. Mme Sylvie's hobby, as she called it, was an open secret within the community, but not one to be shared with outsiders.
Her philosophy was simple, just like everything else she undertook, she strived to perform to the very best of her ability. She had made close study, and practiced a wide range of, sexual variations. However, she did have very definite limits, some more extreme practices she regarded to be unhygienic, dangerous or just plain silly. She was capable of playing many sexual roles, her lovers discovered that she would adapt her performance to suit the preferences, fetishes and fantasies that they held dear, providing that they weren't too extreme, plus just a little extra. One of her favourite roles was that of dominatrix, where the soubriquet Madame took on significant meaning. In this role she always insisted on being called Madame rather than Maîtresse, the French equivalent of Mistress.
