From the Top Shelf - Erna

This erotic story of a teenage girl's sexual awakening through spanking at the hands of an older man is by Gerda Mundinger, supposedly a psychosexual therapist, although perhaps not, according to Pulp International. It's not the greatest literature, but a reasonably good spanking story.

Erna, at eighteen, was a young blonde beauty in the best North European tradition. She came to America as an infant, and when her father died a few months after arrival, her mother went to work as a domestic.

At that time, Fred, the son of her employer, was a young man fresh out of college, but things changed, so that when Erna was eighteen, he was lord of the manor, independently wealthy at thirty-eight, his money solidly invested so that he need pay no attention to it. Instead, he concentrated his attention on women, liquor, and tennis, more or less in that order. His tennis ability was such that he could have played at Davis Cup level, had he chosen to accept the strict training requirements. Rather than bother with the inconvenience of that, he chose to play the game for fun, and, for the want of something to do, he would, from time to time, coach young players with natural talent. Two of his protégés went on to win state championships.

Hoping for something better in life for her daughter than had been her own lot, Erna's mother approached her employer one day and asked if he would consider coaching her daughter. On a whim, he agreed to at least give her a trial. He had seen very little of the girl, who tended to stay clear of the main house, and so was surprised when the young beauty came to the court at the agreed time the following Saturday. Her crisp white blouse bulged excitingly with breasts which he estimated with his expert eye would be firm as apples and big enough to make many a mature woman envious. He saw the slim waist, swelling buttocks, and thighs that looked silken smooth and very firm.

Even before she got close enough to say hello, Fred had decided he was going to seduce the girl, and wondered if he would be the first. He suspected that to be the case. She had an expression of virginity about her, and that made her even more exciting to him.

He greeted her cheerfully and they began to play. She turned out to be much better than he had anticipated, with a natural feel for the game, and a strength and alertness that promised to make her a tough opponent for any woman. Fred let her see his enthusiasm, and they played for a long time before stopping to rest. When they did, Erna looked as fresh as she had at the start. Except for the sweat stains below her armpits, one wouldn't have known she had exerted herself at all.

Over the next week, they played often, and he noted signs of improvement that encouraged both of them. Depending on the weather and on his mood, they used either the big courts out on the back lawn or the smaller but more than adequate indoor court.

More and more, he favored the indoor court, since his plans called for the girl to do some playing there, playing of games other than tennis. There was a comfortable rest room adjacent to the court, with a couch and other items of furniture, as well as a small bar.

He had used the couch many times before, with a wide variety of young beauties lying between him and it. None had been as young as Erna, but he thought, too, that none had been as beautiful either. Taking his time, Fred lured her into an easy, relaxed friendship and worked her out of the "daughter of a servant" role she would have played...

Deciding it was time to start a more definite progress, Fred told the girl that she was entering the critical stage of her preliminary training. If she measured up, he would begin to train her seriously. Erna had already seen the glamorous life that could be hers as an outstanding tennis player. She would travel, meet interesting people, and enjoy a life of all play and no work. Fred had encouraged her in this line of thought. The more anxious she was to make it to her goal, the better the chances of making it to his, he reasoned.

During their next game, Fred kept count of her every misplay and pointed each out to her. At the end of the session, they went into the rest room where Fred poured himself a drink. Between sips of it, he went over the list of misplays with her. When he finished, he informed her that he had studied the matter carefully, and decided that she would pay a penalty of twenty-five spanks.

For a moment, the girl blinked in surprise, then shrugged her shoulders and smilingly accepted the sentence. Sitting on the edge of the couch, he helped the young beauty to lie over his lap. Before commencing the spanking, he smoothed out the wrinkles in her shorts, even where there were none, positioned her just the way he wanted her, then holding her strongly with his left hand, he began to spank. Each spank was moderately brisk, and each was just a little more than a spank as his hand closed just a trace, enough to provide him with a nice feel of firm cheek through the thin shorts.

When she got to her feet at the end of the spanking, Erna smiled as she rubbed the seat of her shorts with both hands and told him that she had gotten the message.

"How was it, Erna?" he asked with a little grin.

"Not bad," she told him with a poise which surprised and delighted him.

"Glad to hear it. Tomorrow you get it on your panties. No shorts."

"Then I guess I'd better be very careful how I play," she observed, a trace of a smile still playing around her full lips, lips which like the rest of her, he wanted to taste, in the literal sense.

The next day, they used the indoor court again. The entrance to it was locked, as usual. From the outset, Erna stunned him with the brilliance of her play. There were opportunities to score on her, with his superior strength and experience, but she made no mistakes. That puzzled him. He had guessed that she had enjoyed being spanked the previous day, and that she would make a few mistakes as a challenge for him to spank her on her panties.

The style and material of her panties would tell him a lot, he reasoned. Checking his watch as he waited for her to serve, Fred saw that they had less than three minutes to go. She double faulted on her serve, and after that, not one move she made was right. After the game she had played, it was obvious that she was deliberately earning a spanking on her panties.

On the way back to the rest room, Erna wore a look of sincerity as she wondered aloud what had happened to her game in the final minutes. He decided to tease her by pouring himself a drink, and a beer for her.

Thinking of what was ahead, Fred felt his penis surging to erection. He knew she could see the form of it through his shorts, but made no effort to hide it. He saw, too, that she made no effort to conceal her interest in it. The girl had him baffled. He was sure she was a virgin, and yet she was playing it with all the aplomb of an experienced bachelor girl.

Sensing that he was in danger of losing the upper hand, he put his glass down on the bar and walked to the couch. She handed him another surprise by walking to him before he called her, and standing in front of him, her feet apart, her breasts rising and falling excitingly with her deep breathing.

"How many spanks today, coach?" she asked without obvious concern.

"Well now, Erna, the mistakes came so thick and fast that I couldn't keep count. I think thirty should do nicely. Just fifteen on each cheek."

Standing close to him, she reached for the side fastener of her shorts, opened it and slid the zipper down. She stood straight and proud as she guided the shorts down her thighs. This time, it was his turn to blink. Despite knowing that she would be spanked on her panties, she wore a pair of sheer, black-nylon bikinis that were as brief as any he had ever seen.

Both through and around the scrap of nylon, he saw the curly pubic hair, a darker shade of blonde than the hair of her head, but no less beautiful.
With his hands on her hips, Fred turned her and saw that the skimpy panties covered little more than if she had tied a couple of ribbons around her.

"They aren't going to protect you very much, are they, Erna?" he asked in a low, warm tone.

"No. I guess not," she agreed.

"In fact, I guess I may as well take them down. They're only in the way."

Without waiting for a reply, he reached for the waistband and slowly drew them down to her thighs, revealing in the nude, a bottom that was without a doubt the most beautiful he'd ever seen. Testing all the way, he turned her around and stared at her with open admiration and equally visible lust.

"Did I ever tell you that you have beautiful hair?" he asked warmly, his eyes fastened on the honey-blonde of her pubic foliage.

"Thank you," she replied with a warmth that could not be missed. "Are you going to spank me very hard?"

"Just hard enough, Erna. Hard enough to warm you up."

"All right," she said simply, "but I'm quite warm now."

Again afraid of losing the upper hand, sensing that a seventeen-year-old virgin was actually seducing him, he took her left thigh in his hand and guided her to his right. A few seconds later, he felt the warm silk of her belly when she laid her firm, silken body across his thighs.

He pushed her blouse up a little higher to see more of her smooth, golden-tanned back, then, taking a firm grip on her with his left hand, he began to spank. There was not a trace of pretense about the first spank. It slapped with a brisk force across the apex of her perfectly rounded right cheek, then he squeezed the spot and held for a few seconds.

Again and again, his right hand rose and fell, making a thrilling sound each time it contacted a firm cheek, holding each time to add to the thrill of the contact. Only after a dozen spanks or so had been delivered, did Fred remember she had been promised a specific number of spanks. In no mood for counting, he just went on spanking.

Before long, she was sobbing and threatening to cry, but the writhing and heaving of her body on his lap told the man that she was in no hurry for him to stop spanking her bottom.
He had no idea whether she had taken the promised thirty spanks, or fifty, but when both cheeks glowed a warm red shade, he stopped spanking and, picking her up, placed her on the couch on her tummy. As he did so, he pulled her shorts and panties down her legs and off.

Bending over the sobbing girl then, he began to massage tenderly, the luscious nether cheeks he had spanked so briskly. He had felt a lot of beautiful, mature bottoms, but this was, he told himself, the one. The cheeks were beautifully rounded, well-fleshed, yet so firm that he was tempted to call them hard, until he looked down at the bulge in the front of his shorts and decided that was hard; her buttocks were merely firm.

While his right hand continued to fondle her bottom, he used his left hand to unbutton her blouse. He wondered whether she would make any protest, but she didn't. When the blouse was opened all the way, he slipped the hooks of her bra open. Pushing her blouse and bra straps aside, he had her whole naked back to admire. He brought his hands to her shoulders first, and began to massage the girl. The massage continued all the way down to her knees, then moved back up to her tingling buttocks. After fondling their silken perfection, he bent and began to kiss the warm cheeks.

Feeling the responding vibrations in her body as his mouth covered both cheeks with kisses and licks, Fred knew that she was his all the way, that there would be nothing in the way of protest from her. Standing by the couch, he removed his shoes. As he opened the top of his shorts, he saw that Erna had turned her face and was watching him. In her expression he saw warmth and excitement, but no sign of fear. He pushed his shorts and undershorts down together, and his big, erect penis thrust out toward the girl on the couch. He saw her eyes open a little wider, but still there was no fear.

Naked, he went to her. As he turned her over, she held her arms up so that he could remove her blouse and bra. As he drew them off, baring her breasts, Erna sat up, and he knew she had done it to display her breasts at their very best.

Their best was magnificent. Each was a handful, firm, silken-smooth, and warm. The nipples were an exciting pink, jutting boldly from the swirling aureoles. Although the formation of her breasts was almost citrus-like, they showed promise of more conical growth. As beautiful as they were then, he sensed that they would become much more so as she continued to develop.

"Are you sure you're eighteen?" he asked her.

"Yes, and I'm ready," she told him, her smooth young arms reaching toward him. He hadn't meant the question that way, but he liked her answer.

* * *

Hardly a day passed over the next year without their meeting in the rest room of the indoor court. Usually, they played tennis first, then after a brief rest, went to the couch, their bodies still wet from exertion and ready to become wetter from the ultimate exertion.

A year later, Erna won the state junior championship without losing a set. The glamorous life she wanted was within her grasp. She almost made it. A confirmed bachelor of almost forty, Fred gave up that status, and Erna gave up her tennis aspirations as they married shortly before her twentieth birthday.

They produced the three beautiful children they wanted, and now more than ten years later, they are still happy and very much in love.

I wonder if Erna's mother still works as a domestic, or if she has been allowed to retire.