by Frank Martinet
Chad caught his breath as Eileen emerged from the tiny bathroom. She was wearing an old gray tee and when she bent near the bed to turn off the light, the tail raised just enough to expose the full lower curves of her ass. The glimpse of white panty snuggled deep between the round cheeks aroused him in an instant.
"Freeze!" he shouted, and she froze, eyes wide with alarm.
"What is it? Don't tell me there's another cockroach, I can't-"
"Quiet, you disobedient wench!"
Eileen gasped and began to giggle. She was still giggling as Chad's powerful palm connected with her right butt-cheek with a deafening wallop. Then she yelped. Her cries increased when he smacked her left cheek, and then her right.
"Oooh! Ow! Oh, that hurts," she said, grinning.
"You've been a bad girl, haven't you," he growled in her ear. He was leaning against her, feeling the warmth of her full, womanly body.
"Please don't spank me, sir! I'll be good, I swear I'll be a good girl!"
"It's too late for that. You're going to get just what you deserve!"
In a flash Chad had his wife across his lap, the shirt raised, the skimpy panties pulled down to expose her lovely bared buttocks. "Beautiful," he murmured, as she wiggled the big round cheeks in delight.
"Not too hard," she cooed. "I've got an interview tomorrow."
Chad laughed. "I've got to baptize our new apartment with a sound spanking, my dear, and your gorgeous bottom has been elected!"
Just as he raised his hand, preparing for a happy deluge of swats, there came a clear thumping sound from the north wall. A voice cried out, "Keep it quiet over there! People are trying to sleep."
Eileen whispered, "Is he talking about us?
"I don't think so. How can he even hear us?"
"I can hear you just fine, you morons," came the voice. "These walls are made of paper!"
"Shit!" gasped Eileen, her face the color of a beet. When she noticed Chad's hand still prepared for a smack, she quickly stood, shaking her head. "We can't!" she hissed. "Too noisy!"
Chad cursed, amusing himself with a playful bum rub instead, but it wasn't the same. Eileen was too self-conscious even for sex after that, and the mood was gone. She lay awake trying to remember who lived in 6B. Was that the gray-haired old man and his wife or the young Asian couple? She was mortified to think whoever it was had overheard her spanking. Maybe the sounds had been muffled and they hadn't realized what was going on. It had, after all, only been a few swats.
The next day, Chad put his ear to the wall and confirmed the awful reality: their new apartment building had no privacy. They could hear everything their neighbors to the north and south were doing, from showering to watching TV to intimate conversations. Eileen casually brought it up to the woman down the hall in 6G when they were in the elevator.
"We could hear our neighbors' TV last night," she began. "Is that normal?"
The woman laughed. "Welcome to Royal Heights Apartments! Now you know why I got an end unit. Every night I hear the couple in 6C arguing and they're a whole apartment away."
Eileen and Chad discussed the situation that evening. "What are we going to do?"
"We can't move," he said. "It's taken everything we have to get in here. And this cheap place is all we can afford right now."
It was true. Their finances were in terrible shape. Chad was still paying off student loans and though his job at the bank would eventually pay well, he was just starting out. Eileen had gotten laid off from the department store and was looking for part-time work while still working on her degree. Though not ideal by a long shot, Royal Heights was a hell of a lot better than most Manhattan apartments in their price range. At least it was clean and the residents weren't drug addicts.
"I guess this is home for a while," she sighed. "We'll just have to forgo games."
Vanilla sex, however, proved more of a challenge than either had anticipated. From the start their relationship had been about spanking. Chad got off on slapping ass and Eileen loved a hot, punished bottom. Spanking provided all the sparks in their sex life; in comparison, ordinary sex was just... ordinary.
It wasn't too bad for the first few weeks. Eileen was busy job hunting, which was distracting, and there was still a lot to do to get settled in the apartment. Chad was stressing over his new job and trying to learn the complex political situation at the bank. Diamond Mutual had merged with First State two years earlier, and last year had absorbed the struggling NYC Credit, and there were executives from all three companies fighting for control. It was difficult to know which ass to kiss.
But into the second month, Chad felt he had the lay of the land and his boss was given a small promotion and it felt like things were looking up at work. Eileen had found cashier work at a local grocery store: not ideal but at least it was something. The new apartment was becoming a home and the young couple were starting to miss their romantic life. They'd continued to have sex regularly, of course - but it was quiet and tame sex, not the wild passion both craved.
Eileen found herself frequently smarting off to Chad and acting bratty, instinctively hoping for a sound bottom-warming, but of course such activities were prohibited in the new privacy-free apartment. One Saturday night they were so randy and desperate Eileen decided she didn't care and threw herself over Chad's lap and said, "Spank me! Spank me hard!"
But after the first handful of hairbrush wallops, complaints from neighbors started to came in and Eileen lost her nerve. She was shy by nature and spanking was a deeply personal thing she wanted kept private. Other than Chad and a former ex-boyfriend, no one in the world knew of her proclivity - not even her family or best friend - and she wanted to keep it that way. The idea of an audience, while exciting in concept, in practice was far too disconcerting.
Months went by and Eileen's brattiness took on an aggressive nature. Chad was frequently irritated as well, and he took to drinking too much and storming out of their apartment in a rage and hanging out at a bar most evenings, unable to stand being in the same cramped room as his wife.
"It's like being a diabetic in a candy store," he complained one night. "I love you, honey, and I see that gorgeous rump calling out to me and I can't have it!"
"I know, I know," she sighed. "But what can we do? We can't afford to move."
It was true. Eileen's temp job was proving more permanent than either liked, but she hadn't found anything better. She was working more hours and making half what she used to make. Her studies were slowing down and she'd dropped a course in the new semester.
"It's just for the next year or so. Come on, we can get through this," Chad said, giving his wife a hug.
"I'm not so sure. We fight more often than we make love."
"I'm sorry. I'm frustrated and I take it out on you. I don't mean to, but you're there."
"I know. I just wish there was a solution."
A couple of times they rented a hotel room for the night and were able to indulge in a little play. Eileen got several good spankings and their lovemaking in between was terrific, though not spontaneous. But it was like coming up for a brief gasp of air while drowning - it kept them alive longer and ultimately only served to remind the couple what they were missing.
The answer came suddenly and in such a mundane manner it took them both by surprise. It started with an argument over laundry.
Royal Heights had several machines for resident use in the basement, but like the rest of building, the facilities were inadequate. The laundry room was apparently added as an afterthought during an ancient remodel, jammed between the boiler room and the elevator. It had probably once been a storage closet, for it was tiny with just two washing machines and a single dryer - not nearly enough for a whole building. Everyone was always wanting to use the laundry at the same time.
When the couple first moved in, they discovered that the existing residents already had an established schedule. There was a protocol that said unless you had signed up for a particular time, it was first-come, first-serve. Basically, if you missed your window, you were screwed.
Of course, all the most convenient times were taken, leaving the new couple doing laundry after midnight, in the wee hours of the morning, or at odd times during the day. Eileen had finally managed to secure an eleven p.m. slot on Thursday nights which wasn't too bad.
Laundry had been a struggle since the couple had moved in and they'd fought over it many times. Thursdays were busy school nights for Eileen and by the time she got home, she was exhausted and the prospect of spending the next couple of hours lugging baskets of clothes seven floors down to the creepy basement and back up to the apartment was not fun. She'd tried to get Chad to help, but he was inept when it came to the subtleties of the art of cleaning clothes, and if she didn't watch he'd be likely to mix colors or do something crazy like bleach her favorite sweater.
On this particular Thursday, Eileen was in a foul mood, Chad equally so, and the debate over who was to do laundry surfaced.
"We can't miss our slot," said Eileen. "We missed it last week and I couldn't get in since and I've literally got nothing to wear tomorrow. Laundry must be done tonight."
"So go do it."
"Come on, Chad, I'm doing the dishes. At least carry the stuff down there. My back is killing me. I had to work all day and classes all evening. I'm beat!"
"I know what I'd like to beat," muttered the man, staring pointedly at his wife's cheeky rump clad only in skimpy denim shorts as she stood at the sink.
She glared at him. "I know exactly what you can beat if you won't help me!"
"Fine, fine. I'll help, okay. But I had a terrible day at work, too, you know. With all the layoff talk everyone is working overtime and I had to stay late."
That comment reminded both of their precarious financial situation, which provoke further bickering that continued during the entire descent on the ancient iron elevator. By the time they reached the basement, the two were nearly shouting over the noise of the creaking and clanking metal cage. Eileen was furious with Chad for eating an expensive meal at a restaurant when she made do with cheap take-out.
Chad kicked open the heavy metal door of the laundry room and they squeezed inside. Eileen began to sort and load the washing machines while he watched, scowling, his eyes focused on that beautifully large denim-clad rump as his wife bent to fetch clothes from the basket and moved to drop them into the yawning mouth of the machine. Slowly his anger drained, replaced by desire. When Eileen dropped a sock and bent to retrieve it, her full ass rounding out into a perfect ball, Chad couldn't hold back and gave his wife's butt a hard smack with his hand.
"Ouch! What the hell?" Eileen held her head where she'd banged it against the metal dryer, having been pushed forward by the force of Chad's unexpected spank. "What was that for?"
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