Saturday, 27 October 2012

Warm Waters - Glowing Globes Gazette

                                           Glowing Globes Gazette

                                                  Warm Waters by Debbie Downunder

What is that silly Debbie girl doing now? This isn't a celebrity article I hear you cry. Well, dear reader I don't just do fluffy celebrity pieces, mostly I grant you, but not entirely. Aunty seems to have that covered with her celebrity spankee of the month initiative. Which reminds me I must vote for November soon. I do hope my friend Kate takes last months nomination and award in the spirit it was intended, although knowing Kate she'll probably take it out on poor Pippa's bottom. Enough of my foolishness, on with the article!

Warm Waters

I got out of the car and looked up at the old stone building that comprised the hotel area of the Warm Waters Spa Hotel in Hepburn Springs, three kilometres from Daylesford, spa capital of Victoria.

It all looked inviting and rather innocuous, but there had to be a twist here somewhere. I know I’m a good reporter, but I couldn’t imagine my periodical The Glowing Globes Gazette, and it’s formidable editrix; Aunty Andrea, sending me here just because of that. There had to be a reason I got sent and not Andrea herself.

I enjoy a good spa treatment. It’s something I regularly do with friends on a girls weekend and it’s a wonderful hens activity, I believe they’re referred as bachelorette parties in the US.

I’m no stranger to the town of Daylesford with its spas, B&B’s, cafes and antique shops. The nearby Hepburn Springs, the source of the natural mineral waters that give Daylesford its reputation is also not unknown to me. However this particular spa hotel; Warm Waters, was a new one.

One thing I did notice even before checking in that struck me as a bit different was the lack of a male presence. I could not see a man in evidence anywhere. Spas tend to be attended and largely staffed by women, but you should be able to see the occasional guy. Working the bar or even a guest. Not at Warm Waters.

As I was a reporter, and a working one, I got a special tour and a meeting with the manageress. A tall, trim woman in her early thirties with short hair and a ready smile, Robyn Young.

Me being me, my first question was about the lack of men. Robyn laughed “You are a direct little thing, aren’t you? You weren’t told?”

“Told what?” I asked.

Robyn gave me a sideways look and said “Warm Waters is a womens only establishment, staff and guests. Even the gardeners are all female.”

I know spas are normally a girl thing, but isn’t that taking it too far?

“Debbie,” Robyn told me warmly, “Maybe after we’ve done a tour you’ll understand why we have a strict ladies only policy.”

By the time I’d put my bag away and changed into something comfortable Robyn had arranged for Simone; one of the spa attendants, to give me a tour of the facility.

The hotel itself is fairly standard. It’s well appointed, decorated in an old country style, lots of wood and leather. Log fires in the lounge and the restaurant as well as the bar. What little I’d seen of the treatments on offer in the brochure in my room were also similar to what you get in the spas that proliferate in the area. Warm mineral pools, saunas, massages, pedicures, manicures, facials, etc… The usual. There was also a high tea that they offered most days, and I was definitely looking forward to attending that. I love high tea, they’re especially great if you can get alcohol, and substitute Long Island Iced Tea for the other kind.

Simone was a pretty girl in her early 20’s, short, a little on the plump side, with a mass of fiery curls piled up on her head. She took me along the raked gravel paths that wound through the manicured colourful gardens to the spa building. There were two rather nervous looking women in the spa’s reception area. Both were wearing white toweling dressing gowns with the establishment’s name embroidered in black thread on the pocket and breast of the gown. One woman was mature with well-kept greying hair, and the other younger with two-toned hair; black and blonde. A look was all it took to tell me that this was a mother and daughter, also a very common sight at most spas. I’d even attended one with my mother on occasion.

A promotional shot from the spa's brochure. Two ladies relax after a treatment, does one of them look to be setting carefully to you?

“Before I take you into the spa and let you observe some of our treatments and sessions,” Simone said to me in hushed tones. “I’ll need you to put on a gown.”

I nodded. I’d been half expecting it. Being a women’s only establishment I was willing to bet most of the patrons were nude for the time they spent here, so if I was wearing a gown it wouldn’t look obvious that I was just watching, not actually participating, although I’d been informed that Glowing Globes would pay for a treatment for me, worryingly this had already been pre chosen for me. I couldn’t yet see why they’d sent me here. It was a nice place, but there were any number of spas, and the female only policy aside, I couldn’t see what differentiated Warm Waters from them.

There was a slender girl changing in the rooms when I entered. The light was muted, so I couldn’t be entirely sure, but the brief glimpse I got of her from behind suggested that she had a reddened bottom, she quickly shrugged the gown on over it, and I couldn’t really ask her if she’d just been spanked.

The pools looked very inviting. There were two of them. Each heated to a temperature between 37 and 39 degrees. In between the two hot pools was a cold plunge pool, it had a temperature of 20 degrees. The idea is to go from hot pool to cold and back to hot, it’s good for the circulation. The two hot pools both had Jacuzzi functions and bathers could look out onto the gardens. There were 3 saunas; a steam room, a dry sauna and an infrared. All the ladies there were nude, but they were either in the pools or the sauna rooms and the steam as well as the dim light in the saunas prevented me from seeing if I’d just been imagining things in the changing rooms.

My spank sense started tingling when Simone took me to the massage rooms, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a hand impacting on a bare bottom, followed by girlish squeals. Simone was looking at me, a smile playing across her full lips, just trying to gauge my reaction. It was all starting to crystallise for me. No wonder I’d been sent here to report on Warm Waters. It was a spanking spa!

A guest enjoys a relaxing massage. They're not always quite so tranquil.

Simone opened the door a crack, and I tried to peer around her to see who was being spanked and how, but was unable to do so, she had obviously done this before. There were some words exchanged between the girl and one of the ‘masseuses’. Simone closed the door and smiled at me.

“Marilyn, the masseuse working in there at present will be finished soon and will have a talk to you about some of our more unique services. If you’d just to take a seat,” she indicated a chair against the wall. “She’ll be out directly.”

The noises coming from the treatment room made me squirm rather uncomfortably. Sitting there with a noisy spanking in progress just the other side of the door made me think less than fondly of my school days.

I slapping sounds ceased, and were soon followed by the yells stopping, although I could just hear sobbing over the soothing music that was piped throughout the spa. A few minutes passed, and the girl with the two toned hair emerged, she was wearing a gown, but her face bore evidence of a recent cry. She was followed by a very pleased looking mother, they headed down the hall to another treatment area. I wondered what else they had planned for the afternoon.

A tall, athletically built, tanned woman with long wavy honey blonde hair appeared in the doorway. “Debbie?” she asked in a gentle voice.

I stood up, and said nervously “Yes.”

“I’m Marilyn,” she smiled at me. “Come on in.”

I seated myself on one of the massage tables, and looked around uneasily. For the most part the room looked like any massage treatment room. Two massage tables, piles of clean towels, chairs for the masseuses to sit on. Bottles of massage oil, sinks for washing up. This was all standard, but if I looked carefully I could see a selection of canes and paddles hanging up on one wall. One leather paddle sat on a chair. I would have been willing to bet that had just been used on Miss Two Tone’s derriere.

“As you have probably guessed Debbie, we offer an experience with a difference here at Warm Waters,” Marilyn said, and offered me tea.

I accepted, and nodded, as I tried to take this all in.

Marilyn supplied me with a cup of hot berry tea. It was actually both refreshing and soothing.

“So you spank the clients?” I asked.

Marilyn shrugged “Not all of them. Some only want a massage, but yes I am usually asked to give a good sound spanking.”

“What were the two ladies in here before getting?” I put to the masseuse.

“Well, we don’t like to tell tales, but that was a mother daughter experience,” Marilyn began. “Would you like me to give you the full run down of our extra services?”

I nodded eagerly, and sipped my tea.

Marilyn sipped her own cup, and explained how things worked. “We offer everything from a gentle spanking, as much massage as chastisement, to a severe caning. We try to combine the corporal punishment with the massage, though. I don’t know if you’ve ever been spanked, Debbie,” and she laughed at my eye roll. “So you know how much you want to rub those stinging cheeks after. If you’ve never had a professional massage after a good, hard spanking, you’ve missed out. I wonder if we can book you in for a spanking massage?”

For all that I knew a spanking at Marilyn’s hands was likely to be quite a painful experience, I did find her rather appealing, and the idea of her massaging me after the bottom blistering was something I wanted to experience. I found myself nodding slowly.

“Lovely,” Marilyn said, her green eyes sparkling. “I’ll have Simone book you in after this.”

“Thank you,” I said to her, a little numb and studied my tea, hoping that the dim light in the room hid my flaming cheeks. She was definitely turning me on. I was also willing to bet that when the appointment book was checked I was already scheduled to have that massage. The things I do for work!

“It’s not just the level of chastisement,” Marilyn continued. “It is the way we do it. You saw the two ladies in here earlier, they’re mother and daughter. We do a lot of mother daughter treatments. Sometimes the girl is massaged and spanked, while Mum watches, as just happened in her earlier. Other times Mum gets a massage while her daughter is spanked. We massage and spank both of them, or Mum gets the spanking, while the daughter gets the treat. Some Mums want to spank their daughters personally, and I have even been involved with one session where Mum got spanked by her daughter.”

I hoped my mother doesn’t find out about Warm Waters, because I know what sort of treatment she’ll want us to have if she does.

“It’s not just mothers and daughters. A lot of ladies find spanking very therapeutic, and this is one of the few places they can get what they want in a safe and relaxed environment. We also do girls weekends, and it’s surprising how many ladies want to share a good old fashioned bottom warming with their friends. The batchelorette parties can be hard work, but also good fun. We generally have to have at least two therapists working those groups, and we’ve got a specific room that is larger with more tables.”
I voiced my opinion, and my mother’s maxim, that a spanking should be administered across the knee.

Marilyn laughed “Your mother and mine would get along very well. I was told the same thing. We tailor it to the client’s specifications, and quite often the spanking component is given with the naughty client bottoms up over my lap.”

I licked my lips, and imagined myself stretched out nude over Marilyn’s loving lap.

Simone met me outside the treatment room, and after I had redressed, escorted me to the dining room where they were setting up for high tea. She left me with Helen, the mistress of ceremonies for high tea. She was also responsible for the hotel staff.

Some of the delights on offer at high tea. Don't they look absolutely scrumptious?

Helen was a handsome, buxom matron with long raven hair. She looked to me as if she was probably the pillar of the local branch of the CWA (Country Women’s Association).

“You’re a lucky girl, Deborah,” she told me.

“I prefer Debbie, actually,” I murmured.

“You’ve arrived just in time for tea, Deborah,” Helen went on as if I hadn’t spoken.

“I like high tea,” I let the imposing lady know.

“Oh, I think you’ll like how we do it here, dear.”

That intrigued me. They made a big deal of their high teas at Warm Waters, and I couldn’t work out why. You’re hard pressed to find a spa worth it’s salt in Daylesford and Hepburn Springs that doesn’t put on a pretty impressive high tea for guests and visitors.

I voiced my opinion, and to my surprise Helen laughed heartily. “That comment tells me that you have certainly never experienced a Warm Waters high tea, sweetheart.”

Still full of questions I was taken into the dining room, and settled down at a table. In the interests of letting me observe and write my piece I had a table to myself.  I ordered, and tucked into my Devonshire tea, as high tea got into full swing and I found out just why my comment had so amused the mistress of ceremonies.

I noticed the mother and daughter duo from the spa were also present, and the younger woman was sitting rather carefully.

I’d just taken my first bite of a scone liberally laden with strawberry jam and cream when there was the crash of dropped crockery and a cry of dismay from one of the young ladies serving the refreshments. The guest was a pretty young lady, who was part of a girls day out group (one of the guests was wearing a pair of horns, so it was obviously a hens party). Helen hurried over to the site of the accident, and stood over the flustered waitress, hands on hips. “Susie!” she scolded the girl. “How could you be so clumsy?”

While the girl tried to explain and clean up the mess, Helen turned to the party of giggling girls, and asked “How would you like to handle this, ladies?”

“A spanking!” one girl shouted.

“Is that what you all think Susie needs?” Helen asked.

All the young heads nodded, and I noticed other guests looking at the unfolding drama.

“I can handle things for you,” Helen offered. “Alternatively one of you may like to discipline, Susie.”

“Go on, Hannah,” one of the party urged the girl wearing the horns. “It’s your hens.”

In short order the unfortunate Susie was laid out over Hannah’s eager lap, and Helen lifted her skirt and lowered her panties, so that her bare bottom was arrayed for Hannah’s attentions. The room filled with Susie’s yells and the sound of a hard palm meeting a tender backside as Hannah went enthusiastically at her task.

The waitresses shapely posterior was far from the only one that was paddled that afternoon. At least three other serving girls came to grief. One was spanked by a delighted guest; an older matronly woman, who was celebrating something with two of her friends, and the other two were spanked by Helen. I think if I’d had the choice, despite the additional humiliation I would have elected to be spanked by the guest. Helen was a strong woman, and she seemed to really know what she was doing. One of the girls who was spanked by her got walloped by an oversize wooden spoon. I really felt for her.

It wasn’t just the staff. Guests could also spank each other.  The bride to be got a group spanking from her bridesmaids and friends. She was laid out over Helen’s ample lap, and the mistress of ceremonies held her in place and counted out the slaps as her friends doled them out. She was the subject of much teasing from them as she took the rest of her tea standing up, occasionally rubbing the seat of her pants, which now contained a pair of hot glowing cheeks. The lady with the two toned hair also found herself over her mother’s lap at some stage, howling as Mum sizzled her full rump with a hairbrush. As this followed a massage spanking, I could still see evidence of that on her rear end, she was having a very hot weekend.

From Girl Spanks Girl. Helen disciplines some of her 'girls'. 

Helen sat with me as the ceremony wound down, and explained how things worked. “The ‘mistakes’ that the girls make are pre arranged,” she admitted. “We assess the guests and see who would be most likely to want to either witness a spanking or administer one. The girls discuss it before and decide who does what and who gets spanked and who doesn’t.”

None of this was really a surprise to me. The whole thing had the look of set up about it.

“We try to space the smackings out,” Helen said. “Whoever got spanked today will be highly unlikely to get one tomorrow.”

I asked about their hiring policy, and Helen laughed.

“That’s one of my duties. The girls are told about what happens here if they don’t already know and have to agree to be spanked as part of their job. Part of the interview process is taking a sound spanking from me. It’s not really as bad as it sounds or looks, Deborah,” she told me. The woman seemed incapable of understanding that I prefer Debbie. “Our girls are very well compensated for their pains.”

I asked if I could expect more of the same at dinner that evening.

That question got another laugh from Helen “No, dinner tends to be a more formal affair. If one of the waitresses needs or wants a break from spanking, we usually change her shift from high tea to dinner.”

As I left I wondered of I could attend high tea as a guest, and not a press observer, the following day. There were a couple of cute backsides that didn’t get smacked during the afternoon, and either seeing that, or doing the honours myself, appealed to me.

I had a really lovely dinner in the restaurant that night. I believe it’s highly rated, and I can attest to the fact that it deserves the plaudits. I did see a couple of waitresses from the high tea that afternoon, but in accordance to what Helen had told me they were not girls who had been spanked at tea. After a lovely spa bath in my room I retired for the night with a good book, and I could hear the noises from the bush floating gently in through my window.

I ate breakfast a little nervously, because I had been booked in for a spa session with Marilyn. I’d filled in the questionnaire as accurately as I could, and I really hoped that the spanking I got wouldn’t be too hard.

Simone actually collected me from reception, and led me over to the treatment house. There was no reason to explain anything because of the previous day’s tour, so I simply went to the change rooms and got ready for the session.

Simone smiled at me as I appeared in reception wearing my gown. “Nude underneath?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Lovely,” she replied and led me to the mineral pools.

“We like clients to have a soak before a massage. It opens up the pores, relaxes both body and mind. Marilyn also tells me that it makes the bottom really tender.”
I gave her a weak smile and removed my gown. As it was early I had the room to myself, but I’d been soaking in one of the hot pools for a few minutes when a couple of the girls from the hens party entered. I wondered what they were booked in for.

I used all three pools, and the plunge pool is very invigorating with the cooler water after the steaming waters of the hot pools. I also used the steam rooms, and I had to agree with Simone that it was wonderfully refreshing and relaxing. Unfortunately experience had also taught me that she was correct about tenderizing the backside. An experienced masseuse and spanker like Marilyn would know all about that, and be able to extract maximum effect from it I was sure.

I was relaxing with a glass of water, and drying off on one of the lounges out on the deck, when Simone came looking for me. “Debbie,” she scolded. “Marilyn is waiting for you, you naughty girl!”

My eyes went wide, and I scrambled up off the lounge, grabbing for my gown. The scolding had been heard by the girls in the other room, and they laughed as I scurried past them, trying to struggle into my gown, with Simone chivvying me along.

Marilyn was waiting for me in front of a treatment room, she smiled at me warmly, took my hand, and put an arm around my shoulders as she drew me into her room. I could hear the sounds of an in progress session emanating from another room, and asked Marilyn what that was. “Never you mind about that, young lady,” she said. “That’s a naughty bride to be, not something you need to concern yourself with. Would you like a cup of tea or shall we get straight down to it?”

I accepted the offer of tea. I’m an expert at delaying spankings, and this seemed like the best option, plus I really liked that berry tea. “What am I in for?” I asked Marilyn, casting my eyes around the room to see if any implements were already set out.

“Oh you’ll find out soon enough, Debbie,” she told me, sipping her own tea. “Is there anything you want to ask before we get that pretty little bottom blushing?”

I frowned into my cup, and mumbled “Not really. Do I get massaged first or am I spanked first?”
“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Personally I’d recommend the spanking to begin with.  There’s something wonderfully relaxing and soothing about a massage on a well heated bottom.”

I finished my tea, and said with the air of someone facing execution “Okay, let’s do it.”

“Massage or spanking?” Marilyn asked, standing up.

“Spanking,” I sighed.

Marilyn settled herself onto a stool that I noticed gave me plenty of kicking room, which I was sure I’d need. I removed my gown and hung it up on a hook.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Marilyn commented as I turned around, which made me blush again.

I let the masseuse guide me over her silky brown thighs and actually relaxed into the lap. It felt lovely. Her sure, long fingers teased and fondled my cheeks, gradually untensing them. I was purring when the first slap landed.  Massaging must build muscle, because Marilyn was one of the hardest spankers I’ve ever had, and I knew she was going easy on me, too. The spanking actually became rather enjoyable as it continued, with Marilyn’s experienced palm stoking a fire behind and in front. That was until the brush came into play.

“Why?” I wailed as she gave me a world class hairbrushing.

‘It was what the client requested,” Marilyn answered calmly, not missing a beat with that damn brush.

“I’m the client!” I blubbered.

“Actually Debbie the client is who pays for the treatment, and in this case, dear that’s not you.”

I cried and kicked my way through the rest of the spanking.

“My goodness you do redden up nicely!” Marilyn exclaimed as she set the brush aside and began to fondle and stroke my burning behind.

Marilyn let me relax for a moment or two, and I got my crying and breathing under control. She helped me to my feet, and looked up at my face, which I was sure was a total mess. “Oh we are a sight, aren’t we?” she clucked maternally. She walked me over to the sink, and I stood there feeling about six years old while this beautiful composed and elegant woman cleaned my face. Despite being very humiliating it was still a pleasant experience.

I hopped onto a massage table. Thank goodness I was laying on my tummy. Marilyn turned on some soft soothing music, and told me to relax while she went to work on me. Marilyn was right about being massaged after a sound spanking. It was absolutely heavenly. Maybe Marilyn was just an excellent masseuse, but I do think the release of endorphins that any good spanking provides helped. She made me all loose and floppy, and I actually drifted off to sleep.

From Spanking Dollars. This could have been me just before my massage.

I came to hearing Marilyn’s gentle voice. She woke me slowly, helped me off the table and into a deep soft chair, then pressed a steaming cup of that amazing tea into my hands.

Simone collected me after I’d dressed and escorted me to lunch. She said something to Helen, and the matronly woman supplied me with a large soft cushion to sit on. “You’ll need that after a Marilyn special,” she said, and gave me a menu before going to oversee the serving of lunch.

I didn’t have time for high tea unfortunately, but rest assured I will be returning to Warm Waters as soon as I can afford it. I just need to decide which friend to take.


  1. Just a very appealing and equally hot and steamy story, loved it, thank you.


  2. Wonderful. I guess Andrea paid for the full experience and I'm sure Debbie got what was coming to her. It also strikes me as fortunate that she didn't correct Helen for calling her "Deborah".
    Makes me wonder what a spa like this for men would be like. And by whom it would be staffed. My guess would be all females... ;-).


  3. @ Ron, thank you so much. The article was every bit as hot and steamy as the waters in those pools.
    @ Phil, yes the experience was paid for by me. Debbie worked out early that Helen was not the sort of woman who took to being corrected by a younger lady very well. All male establishments did exist from ancient times until the middle of the 20th century, they may not have had the spankings, though.

    1. Aunty,

      "All male establishments did exist from ancient times until the middle of the 20th century, they may not have had the spankings, though."

      Without the spankings, what's the point? ;-)