The founder of Paris' most exclusive swingers' club has offered a glimpse at the 'universe of pleasures' hidden within its velvet-lined rooms in a tantalising new memoir.

Valérie Hervo, 53, or 'Madame Valérie' as she is known to her patrons, opened the doors to Les Chandelles (the candles) in the heart of Paris more than 30 years ago after discovering the joys of swinging in her early 20s. 

Described by one reviewer as the 'porno chic temple of Paris', Les Chandelles' underground labyrinth of softly lit rooms gives couples a safe space in which they are free animated porno to strip off, swap partners, experiment - or simply watch. 

Although Madame Valérie remains tight-lipped on the identities of her patrons, politicians, rock stars and magistrates are said to be among their number- and will no doubt be anxious to see what secrets she spills her book, Les Dessous des Chandelles. 

The businesswoman is usually tight-lipped about her patrons and club but penned a memoir after growing bored during lockdown, according to. 

In one anecdote she reveals how a high profile British rocker was turned away at the door for wearing trainers and jeans - an outfit made for 'chopping wood', according to Valérie, and in breach of the club's strict dress code. 

There are no trainers, jeans, flat shoes or short-sleeved shirts allowed, and women are not permitted to wear trousers of any kind. 

'Faced with this very old rule in France, even the singer of an illustrious British rock group had to give in: sheepishly, he left to change. No satisfaction,' Madame Valérie writes, hinting that Sir Mick Jagger might be the under-dressed musician in question.

Entry is the equivalent of £260 per couple, including dinner. They must enter together and leave together, although Madame Valérie does on occasion allow for women to outstay their partners in the name of female empowerment. 

'Les Chandelles is a place where the woman decides, it's the woman who is in command,' she writes. 

'She should not be a trophy for exhibition or booty to be shared but a goddess to be honored, adored. She should dominate, imposing her desires and whims.' 

Some guests arrive with their spouses, others arrive with their mistresses or lovers. 

Madame Valérie, an expert in discretion, reveals how she once helped a married patron slip out through the fire escape to avoid his wife, who had arrived with her lover. 

He had believed his wife was in bed at home sick and so had invited his mistress; she had thought her husband was away on a business trip.  

The entrance to Les Chandelles is deliberately unassuming. There is no signage or neon light and the plain exterior could easily be mistaken for a shuttered shop front. 

Once inside, guests descend the spiral staircase to the subterranean bar. 

Sparks begin to fly as couples enjoy dinner and exchange loaded glances over glasses of Champagne.

'During these feasts [in the restaurant], an erotic tension spreads, soft and delicious,' writes Madame Valérie. 'Tongues loosen little by little, the conversation becomes bolder, the glances more direct, the touching less innocent.'

From there, couples can move on to the 'horizontal salons', which are full of mattresses and come complete with free condoms.

One visitor describes the rooms as being 'full of skin' as women and men experiment with their partners and other patrons. 

Madame Valérie describes how she once laid out macaroons from the celebrated Ladurée on naked bodies and invited others to sample the treats. 

The idea for the club was borne of her own desire for sexual freedom.  

'The festive magic, the feeling of lightness, the naturalness of bodies and the freedom of souls seduce me,' she writes. 

Not everyone joins in though, for some the atmosphere is enough.  

'Knowing that everything is possible, including doing nothing, is an excellent stimulant for desire,' continues Madame Valérie. 

'The imaginary is sufficient for some, others abandon themselves, allow themselves to be carried away, taking the initiative.'