Lisa's Spanking Journal

Spanking 23 Jan 2026 Attitude Corrected and then Swallowing His Seed The phone felt cold against my ear. “So, Saturday,” I said, my voice tight. “I was thinking we could finally see that new thriller, then maybe the girls could come over for board games, and after they’re in bed… you and me time.” I could hear his smile through the line. “That sounds perfect, baby. Except for Saturday. I promised Mike I’d help him move all day. His whole apartment.” The disappointment was instant, hot, and irrational. “Seriously? Again? You just helped someone move last month. When is it our time?” “Lisa.” His voice dropped, the warmth gone. It was that tone. The one that made my stomach flip.  “Well” I said stomping my foot and sighing really loud for him to hear. “I swear you plan things all the time. You didn’t think of telling me” “Lisa” he said, “Look at the calendar!” I looked at my calendar and my heart sunk, now I remember him telling me. Meekly I said, “Oh that’s right, I am sorry.”  ...

  Good Friday Connection 3 April 2026 It had started with the calendar. Good Friday. A blessed day off for me, a high school teacher. He’d taken a personal day from his own job, a gift of time we so rarely had. Our two daughters, both vibrant and independent teenagers, had been bribed—fairly and enthusiastically—with fifty dollars each at noon to go get lunch and then do some shopping for us. They’d left with giggles and promises to be gone for at least two hours. The silence after the girls left was profound. It wasn’t just quiet; it was a space, hollowed out and waiting. I stood in the living room, the soft morning light filtering through the blinds, and felt the weight of two uninterrupted hours settle around me like a promise. He was in the kitchen, pouring coffee. I could hear the gentle clink of the mug. My stomach was a tight knot of nerves and anticipation. Maintenance spanking. The words floated in my mind, playful and heavy all at once. We’d talked about it for weeks, a c...

  Distracted at Church 29 March 2026 The rich aroma of coffee and the clatter of ceramic cups filled the air of the church cafe. I shifted on the hard wooden chair, trying to focus on the worship lyrics scrolling across the screens mounted around the room. The music swelled, a gentle piano melody meant to uplift the spirit, but my mind was drifting. Hubby sat beside me, methodically finishing his breakfast plate, a man of quiet routine even on Sunday mornings. My purse rested on my lap, a soft leather weight. A buzz vibrated against my thigh. I glanced sideways. Hubby’s attention was on the screen, his face serene. I slipped my hand into the purse, felt the cool glass of my phone, and pulled it out just enough to see the screen. A message from a friend from Church: ‘Easter brunch plans? My place or yours?’ A simple, friendly query. My thumb flicked across the keyboard. ‘Yours sounds great! I already have the ham. I will bring it!.’ Sent. The act felt harmless, a tiny connection in ...