Monday, 31 October 2011

The Race that Spanks a Nation - Debbie Downunder

Two Debbie articles in a week! Whatever did you do to deserve that? I guess you're all just very lucky little vegemites! Seriously today is my favourite day at one of my favourite times of year. Melbourne Cup Day. We get a holiday and everything. I just like the parties, not to mention the chance to spend a lot on an outfit and a have to have a hat at the Cup, or at the very least a fascinator. I cheated a little time to get an article out (I'm actually filing this on my phone from the course carpark), so this is one I wrote for Bared Affair a few years back. To get the real feeling you need to pop a bottle of champers and drink it while reading.

Australia, you have to love it! What other country on earth would stop for two minutes just to watch a horse race? Where else other than sports mad Melbourne could you have a public holiday just for the event? The Melbourne Cup is actually the culmination of a month's worth of big money race meets commonly referred to as the Spring Carnival, and it is always run on the first Tuesday of November. Your reporter was very homesick last year when she missed the event whilst on her travels.

The Melbourne Cup isn't really about the race, it's about the parties. They have them everywhere: on the 'barbie' boats as they cruise along the Maribynong River alongside the famous Flemington racecourse, in the car park outside, trackside with chicken and champagne, and of course in the corporate and celebrity marquees in the area known as the 'birdcage.' The best gossip is to be found in a few of those exclusive marquees.

Wandering near the stables looking over the horses and trying to pick up a hot tip for the next race, I chanced to hear two of the female jockeys talking. One pretty young miss emerged from a stable with a tear stained face and rubbing her rear. A sore bottom is probably an occupational hazard for those girls, being thrown from horses and bouncing around in the saddle all the time.

But it appeared that that was not what happened to the young hoop.

"Mrs Waterhouse is such a bitch!" the girl hissed to a friend, referring to top trainer Gai Waterhouse. The Sydney-based sportswoman is the daughter of famous horseman Tommy Smith, a former fashion model and married to notorious bookmaker Robbie Waterhouse.

The young jockey's sympathetic friend asked her why she had referred to the legendary trainer in less than flattering terms.

"The first race, it wasn't my fault that she didn't win," the girl answered.

The other girl giggled and disagreed. "I saw that, you didn't ride to orders."

"She's not on the horse, is she?" spat the first jockey. "Too tall, the cow! But afterward she told me off for it. And then, just to make sure that I followed orders next time, she gave me a dose of the crop!"

The jockey's friend sympathized and winced. "At least we stand up in the saddle," she added without a touch of irony.

Statuesque former model turned successful horse trainer Gai Waterhouse knows what to do to jockeys who don't ride to order.

Other People's Parties

Back in the rarified air of the marquees, 'Desperate Housewives' star Eva Longoria was holding court in the Myer tent when a somewhat tipsy young woman attempted to gain entry. A formidable female security guard blocked the entrance. "Private function, sorry, ma'am," the uniformed lady told the swaying brunette.

"I'm with Eva," the girl insisted. The guard looked skeptical and the raised eyebrow said so. "I'm her younger sister," the pretty olive skinned race-goer protested.

The protest carried to the ears of the petite TV star. "Younger sister?" she scoffed. "I've got sisters, but I'm the baby of the family. Nice try, honey."

As the security guard began to escort the crestfallen girl out, Ms Longoria spoke up again. "Hang on," she began, asking for the young lady's name. Once informed that her momentary captive was named Charlotte McAdam, she began her lecture. "Well, Charlotte, what you did was pretty rude. How badly do you really want to get in here?"

The girl looked suspicious, and Ms Longoria continued to explain that she could see the attraction: free food, liberal alcohol and an abundance of cute, wealthy guys. The imposter couldn't help but shrug her shoulders and sheepishly admit that she wanted to be a part of the events very badly indeed.

"I tell you what," Ms Longoria said. "If you agree to something I'll let you stay as my guest."

The girl's eyes went wide in response - what could this media celebrity possibly want from her?

The answer was simple. "Well, 'little sis,'" she said with a wink, "you need to pay for the privilege of being here the way Mother Dearest dealt with us as children." Ms Longoria was proposing that Miss McAdam should receive, as she so charmingly put it, "a bare bottom spanking, right here and now."

The girl hedged, then brightened a bit. Would she be spanked by the famous Eva Longoria? Though a bit odd, such treatment would be almost worth it for its own sake alone.

"Me?" Ms Longoria laughed. "Honey, I am tiny; a feather duster would have more effect. What about" - she peered at the security guard's name tag - "Peta here? You're OK with that, Peta?"

Peta Alberto later explained that this was the easiest request she'd been given in her nine years of work as a security employee. The 30-year-old grinned and answered with an energetic, "Yes!"

Turning to Charlotte McAdam, Ms Longoria asked if she was equally willing to go through with it.

"Yeah, I guess a sore bum is worth it," the girl said defiantly. But there was an edge that suggested that she was a little less enthusiastic about receiving her punishment than Ms Alberto had been about delivering it.

"That's the spirit!" Ms Longoria encouraged her with a light pat to the younger girl's bum. "Now get your pretty little tush over Peta's knee and she'll take it out of your hide."

A crowd gathered and someone provided a chair for the Amazonian Ms Alberto as she hauled the unfortunate Miss McAdam across her ample thighs. Efficiently the guard swept the girl's pretty dress up over her waist and with a squeal of protest from the brunette, lowered her black thong underwear to her shapely ankles.

"Go on, smack it!" Ms Longoria encouraged the guard, eyes shining.

Peta Alberto did not need much urging. And aside from the laughing television star, the rest of the guests in the marquee looked on in stunned silence as the woman's broad hand spanked Miss McAdam's slender olive skinned posterior again and again. The flesh turned it a hot blushing red as the girl howled and kicked. By the end of what was a very sound spanking, the younger woman lay limply over the knee, sobbing.

The spanking had also sobered her up. She clambered off Ms Alberto's knee and smoothed her dress over her blazing bottom and stood there sobbing and rubbing furiously. Ms Longoria handed her a glass of champagne and put a sisterly arm around her shaking shoulders before leading her into a crowd of handsome, wealthy young men.

It sounds odd, but the television star looked to have done Charlotte McAdam a great favour. She would not sit comfortably for a day or two, but many of the well connected young men at the marquee were impressed with how she accepted her punishment and she left the race on the arm of one of them.

Desperate Housewives star Eva Longoria made a curious guest pay for the privilege of basking in her presence at the Melbourne Cup.

Spanking the Life of the Party

Deciding to avail myself of some of the amenities made available to the privileged few, I went to the hospitality tent for a quick facial. Whilst relaxing with a complimentary cocktail I bumped into an old friend. Leading light of the young Melbourne social set, Audrey Franks-Bailieu is a bubbly blonde and always the life of any party, although by all reports she had been rather subdued this Spring Carnival.

She was nursing a drink and watching some of the others clowning around after the effects of a few too many. Asked why she had not joined them, Miss Franks-Bailieu made a face and said, "Oh, you weren't here last year, were you? I had too many drinks, made quite a spectacle of myself and wound up on the front page of the paper after a night on the tiles with the girls."

Miss Franks-Bailieu grimaced as she continued her story. "Mummy was furious," the 24-year-old said. "I hadn't been over her knee for years, but that was where I wound up and she set my bottom on fire with her hairbrush. I was so sore I couldn't even go to the Oaks."

I shrugged, having heard many tales of well-deserved punishments in my travels. It seemed a bit odd that my friend should behave as if this year-ago spanking had only taken place the day before yesterday.

"I still remember it every time I sit," she responded. "Mummy actually brought her hairbrush with her this year and said that if I repeat last year she'll spank me in front of everyone. If I get a chance I'm going to burn that horrid brush!"

From Spanked Tails. Socialite Audrey Franks-Bailieu had her tail set on fire for enjoying the hospitality too much!

Knowing my friend's rather old-fashioned mother, it was not hard to believe that she had threatened her daughter with a public punishment if she got too wild. Fortunately there were no such restrictions on your reporter and I had quite a memorable day. I also backed the winner of the Cup!

Originally published in Bared Affair, Issue 3.11


  1. Terrific story Debbie. Thank you.

  2. Thanks Joey. I am sure Debbie will also thank you once she recovers from her usual post Melbourne Cup hangover, probably in time to attend Oaks Day and do it all over again.

  3. Great post thank you all.

    Be well

  4. Debbie thanks you, Ron. She's off at the Oaks today spending money and no doubt swilling champagne like it's water.