The Punishment of Xuanfa, the Heavenly Venerable - Chapter of Fei

The world of cultivation stretched across endless lands, where qi flowed like rivers through the meridians of those who sought the heavens. From the lowly Qi Refining to the lofty Nascent Soul, the path was long and treacherous. Women far outnumbered men among the cultivators, yet the men who did ascend were often unmatched in strength. Strange laws governed this realm: a male cultivator could claim dominion over a female cultivator by spanking her bare bottom, binding her will and accelerating the cultivation of both. Most women resisted this fate, but resistance meant little against the truly powerful.

Xuanfa the Heavenly Venerable was such a power. His name alone sent tremors through the sects. He loved nothing more than the sharp crack of palm against flesh, the reddening of a woman's bottom beneath his hand. Three hundred years ago, he had faced the Dragon Clan Demon Lord Fei at Wuling City, a battle that shattered mountains and boiled rivers. When the dust settled, Fei lay naked and humbled, her golden dragon horns dulled, her body trembling as Xuanfa summoned the Heavenly Dao spanking board—a slab of black jade inscribed with ancient runes—and beat her rear until she screamed and submitted. She became his female slave, crawling at his feet, and over the centuries, her spirit broke and reformed into something new: a creature who craved his punishments, who begged for his whip, who served him with a teasing smile and a wag of her tail.

On this day, a disciple of the Immortal Xia Sect, a sect of only female cultivators, had offended Xuanfa. The offense was trivial—a careless word, a disrespectful glance—but Xuanfa did not overlook slights. He decided to teach the entire sect a lesson they would not forget.

He strode through the mountain pass with Fei beneath him, her hands and knees pressing into the rocky earth. Fei was naked save for the black slave collar around her neck, etched with binding runes that glowed faintly with every step she took. Her fiery red hair tumbled down her back, past her waist, dancing wildly in the wind. Golden dragon horns curved from her temples, elegant and proud despite her lowly position. Her golden eyes, once fierce with the arrogance of a demon lord, now held a lazy, amused light. Her body was flawless—smooth skin over taut muscle, a graceful figure that moved with feline ease. She crawled forward, her pace steady, her bottom swaying with each motion as if she enjoyed the journey.

Xuanfa sat astride her back, his legs gripping her flanks, his black training clothes immaculate. His face was cold, handsome, unreadable. He held a short whip in one hand, the leather tip stained with old blood. Without warning, he flicked his wrist. The whip whistled through the air and cracked across Fei's bottom, leaving a bright red stripe.

Fei gasped, a shiver running through her body. "Oh, Master," she purred, her voice smooth as silk, "you spoil me. Another, please?"

"Quiet," Xuanfa said, his tone flat. "You talk too much."

"But Master's spanks make me feel so alive." She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her golden eyes gleaming. "The little sisters of the Immortal Xia Sect don't know what they're in for. I envy them."

Xuanfa did not reply. He snapped the whip again, twice more, the blows landing on alternate cheeks. Fei moaned softly, her legs quivering as she continued crawling. The red marks on her bottom bloomed like roses, and her pace did not falter.

They emerged from the pass and saw the Immortal Xia Sect spread across the valley—a cluster of white pagodas and pavilions surrounded by misty peaks. Disciples in black and white daoist robes moved among the courtyards, their laughter and conversation carrying on the wind. The sight of a man riding a naked woman with dragon horns sent ripples of alarm through the sect. Disciples froze, pointed, whispered. Some drew their swords.

At the main hall, Shen Mengyue stood on the steps, her black hair flowing to her waist, her face a mask of calm authority. She was the sect leader, a Nascent Soul mid-stage cultivator, beautiful beyond measure with the ethereal grace of a fairy and the subtle allure of a woman in her prime. Her black and white robes swayed as she descended the steps, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

She had heard the tales of Fei's fall. Every cultivator knew the story: the Demon Lord who commanded legions of demon beasts, whose body was nearly indestructible, whose golden eyes had looked down on all beings. Now that same demon crawled on the ground, naked, her bottom striped with fresh welts, a man riding her like a horse. Shen Mengyue could hardly believe her eyes. She had imagined defeat, even servitude, but this—this degradation—was beyond comprehension. Fei's spirit had been utterly broken, replaced by something that seemed to relish its chains.

"Xuanfa," Shen Mengyue called out, her voice steady despite the cold dread pooling in her chest. "You have no quarrel with the Immortal Xia Sect. Release the demon lord and leave."

Xuanfa slid off Fei's back and landed silently on the ground. Fei stayed on all fours, her tail swishing, watching with interest. Xuanfa tucked the whip into his belt and folded his arms. "Your disciple insulted me. Every woman in this sect will pay the price. I will spank each one until her bottom is blooming like a garden."

"You speak madness," Shen Mengyue said. "I will not allow it."

"Then stop me."

Shen Mengyue drew her sword. The blade sang as it left the scabbard, a sliver of moonlight forged from a star's core. She channeled qi into the weapon, and it flared with silver light. Around her, the air grew heavy, the temperature dropping. She was no novice; she had led the Immortal Xia Sect for centuries, defended it against countless threats. But as she faced Xuanfa, she felt a tremor of doubt. He stood there, arms crossed, his expression bored. He did not even draw a weapon.

She attacked. Her sword traced an arc of destruction, the blade cutting through the space between them in the blink of an eye. Xuanfa raised a single finger. His finger met the blade's edge, and a shockwave rippled outward, cracking the stone beneath their feet. Shen Mengyue's attack was deflected, her sword skittering off his qi barrier.

She recovered instantly, spinning into a second strike, then a third. Each blow was precise, deadly, infused with the full might of her Nascent Soul cultivation. Xuanfa did not move from his spot. He deflected each strike with his finger, sometimes two fingers, sometimes his palm. He seemed to anticipate every move before she made it, his counters effortless, almost lazy.

Shen Mengyue gritted her teeth. She was fighting at her peak, pouring every ounce of her power into the battle, and he had not even broken a sweat. She leaped back, raised her hands, and summoned a storm of sword qi—thousands of ethereal blades that rained down on Xuanfa like a meteor shower.

Xuanfa raised his hand and made a single gesture. The storm vanished. The qi dissipated into nothing. He stepped forward, and in that step, he crossed the distance between them. His hand moved faster than her eyes could track, and his palm struck her bottom with a crack that echoed across the valley.

Shen Mengyue gasped, stumbling forward. The sting was sharp, shocking. She had not been spanked since she was a child, and the humiliation burned hotter than the pain.

Xuanfa followed with a second slap, then a third. Each blow landed with precision, targeting the curve of her robes. He was not even using full strength—she could tell. He was playing with her.

She whirled, sword flashing, but he caught the blade between two fingers and snapped it in half. The broken tip clattered to the ground. Shen Mengyue stared at the hilt in her hand, disbelief flooding through her. Her sword—a Nascent Soul artifact—had been broken like a twig.

Xuanfa struck her wrist, and the hilt fell. He grabbed her by the collar of her robes and lifted her off the ground. She dangled, her feet kicking, her hands clawing at his grip. He looked into her eyes, his own cold as winter frost.

"You fought well," he said. "But you are only mid-stage. I used seventy percent of my power. You never had a chance."

Shen Mengyue's heart sank. Seventy percent. He had held back nearly a third of his strength, and he had still crushed her like an insect.

He dropped her. She fell to the ground, landing on her hands and knees, her robes torn, her hair disheveled. She looked up at him, terror flickering in her eyes. He was walking toward her, his steps slow, deliberate.

From the side, Fei laughed lightly, the sound musical and cruel. "It seems the little sisters of the Immortal Xia Sect are about to have their bottoms blooming."

Shen Mengyue shuddered. She tried to rise, to summon a spell, but Xuanfa's aura pressed down on her like a mountain. She could not move. She could only watch as he reached into the air and pulled. A slab of black jade materialized from the void, inscribed with glowing runes—the Heavenly Dao spanking board.

Xuanfa placed the board on the ground in front of her. He turned toward the sect hall, where the disciples had gathered, watching in horror. He raised his voice, and it carried to every corner of the valley.

"Every female cultivator of the Immortal Xia Sect will approach one by one. You will remove your robes and lie over this board. I will spank each of you until your bottoms are red and swollen. This is the price for your sect's disrespect."

Shen Mengyue struggled to her knees, her voice ragged. "Please, Xuanfa. They are innocent. Punish me alone."

Xuanfa looked down at her. "You are first."

He gripped her robes and tore them away, baring her body to the cool air. Her fair skin gleamed in the sunlight. She gasped, covering herself with her hands, but he pulled her arms aside. He bent her over the spanking board, her bottom positioned perfectly. The jade was cold against her belly, her breasts pressed against the smooth surface.

Fei crawled closer, resting her chin on her folded arms, watching with eager eyes. "Master's hand is so skilled," she said. "I almost envy her. Almost."

Xuanfa raised his hand. Shen Mengyue squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. She heard the hiss of his palm descending through the air, and then the first smack landed.

The sound was sharp, wet, like thunder breaking over a lake. Shen Mengyue screamed.

The morning light filtered through the bamboo grove where Xuanfa's compound sat nestled among the mountains. Fifteen years had passed since Li Que had joined the household, and the rhythm of her days had become as fixed as the turning of the seasons. Every morning, she would crawl out of her sleeping mat on all fours, her naked body already anticipating the sting of the Heavenly Dao board that awaited her. Beside her, Lin Qiaoxin moved with the same practiced obedience, her twin tails bobbing as she positioned herself.

In the training yard, the three women knelt in a row—Fei at the center, her fiery red hair cascading down her back, her golden dragon horns catching the sunlight. Li Que and Lin Qiaoxin flanked her, their heads bowed as Xuanfa made his rounds, his black training clothes immaculate, his handsome face betraying no emotion. He held three leather leashes in his hand, each attached to a black slave collar around their necks.

Xuanfa stopped before Li Que and lifted her chin with his finger. "You've become familiar with the board's rhythm," he said, his voice flat. "But your posture still wavers after a hundred strokes."

Li Que swallowed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "This slave will train harder, master."

"See that you do." He released her and moved to Lin Qiaoxin, who flashed him a playful grin despite her nakedness.

"Master, my bottom is still tender from yesterday," she said, her tone light. "Could you perhaps—"

Xuanfa's hand cracked across her backside, the sound sharp in the morning air. Lin Qiaoxin yelped, then laughed.

"I'll take that as a no," she said, rubbing the red mark with her hand.

Xuanfa's eyes narrowed. "You ask for more punishment."

"Maybe I do," Lin Qiaoxin said, winking. "But Fei and I were just talking. We realized we don't know how Fei came to be your slave. She never tells the full story."

Fei's golden eyes flickered, and for a moment, something ancient and proud stirred in their depths. She kept her gaze on the ground.

"Master," Lin Qiaoxin continued, her voice honeyed, "could we hear the tale? It must be something incredible."

Li Que nodded, her curiosity piqued. "Yes, master. I would like to know how she came to serve you. Perhaps it would help me understand my own place better."

Xuanfa studied them for a long moment, then turned to Fei. "Speak. Tell them how you were tamed."

Fei lifted her head, and a smile touched her lips—not the carefree grin of Lin Qiaoxin, but something more complex, edged with memory. "Three hundred years ago," she began, "I was not this slave who kneels before you now. I was the Demon Lord of all beastkind, commanding armies that made the human world tremble. I looked down upon your kind as ants beneath my claws."

Her voice deepened as she spoke, and her golden eyes grew distant, seeing not the compound but the battlefield of Wuling City.

"I led the demon army to that city, believing I would crush it in a day. But I did not know that the Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa was in seclusion there, cultivating his power. When he appeared on the city walls, I laughed. I was then at the Nascent Soul Great Perfection, unmatched among my kind. What could one human do to me?"

The memory played out in her mind like a living thing. She saw herself soaring through the sky on a cloud of fire, her demon beasts howling at her back. The human soldiers below had trembled, their formation crumbling before she even struck. And then a black-clad figure had risen from the city, his hand raised, his fingers tracing signs in the air.

"We fought for five days and five nights," Fei said, her voice becoming soft. "I threw everything at him—fire, claws, the combined power of every beast I commanded. He turned it all aside with his finger techniques. When the fifth dawn broke, he had me pinned beneath a mountain of force, my body broken, my pride the only thing still intact."

Xuanfa's voice cut through the quiet. "You recall the first punishment."

Fei's smile turned wry. "How could I forget, master? You stripped me naked there on the platform of Wuling City, in full view of the human soldiers and my own demon army. You pushed me face-down over the stone railing, and I felt the cold against my breasts and belly. Then you summoned the Heavenly Dao board."

Her hand drifted unconsciously to her backside, tracing the shape of it through memory. "It was a plank of white jade, inscribed with runes that glowed with your power. You said, 'I will keep spanking until you cry and beg for mercy.' I laughed. I said, 'Is that all you have, Heavenly Venerable? This is nothing.'"

Fei's eyes closed. "Three thousand strokes it took. The first thousand were like fire. The second thousand were like being struck by lightning. The third thousand—my backside was no longer skin and flesh. It was a single, throbbing mass of agony. I refused to cry out. I bit my tongue until blood ran down my chin. When the three thousandth stroke fell, I whispered, 'Mercy.'"

She opened her eyes and looked at Xuanfa, who stood unmoving, his arms crossed. "But that was not the end. He had me spread my legs, and he summoned a black whip. He whipped my crack—every lash landing precisely on my anus, my perineum, my vagina. I screamed then, but not in submission. In rage. I told him I would kill him. I told him I would rip his heart out."

Lin Qiaoxin's playful demeanor had faded. She listened with wide eyes, her body still.

"When my anus was swollen beyond recognition," Fei continued, "he shoved ginger strips into my intestines. The heat was unbearable—it felt like my insides were being set on fire. I writhed and twisted, but I did not beg. I held onto my pride like a drowning man holds a floating log."

She paused, gathering herself. "For five years, that was my life. Every day, he spanked me on the Wuling City platform. Every day, he whipped my crack and stuffed me with ginger. I learned to whisper for mercy when the pain became too great, but I never meant it. I said the words, but my heart remained defiant."

Xuanfa spoke again, his voice cold. "Then came the crawl."

Fei nodded. "He mounted my back and ordered me to crawl from Wuling City to the Demon Lord City. I refused. He raised the whip and beat me until my back was flayed. Then he beat me some more. And when I still refused, he took my dragon horn between his fingers and squeezed until I thought it would crack. I crawled."

Her voice dropped. "It took three months. Three months of crawling on hands and knees, naked, carrying a man on my back, through forests and mountains, across rivers and plains. Demons and humans alike saw me. Some laughed. Others wept. I did not know which was worse."

Li Que's hands trembled. She remembered her own pride, how she had thought herself invincible. She had been humbled in a day. This creature before her had endured for five years.

"When we reached the Demon Lord City," Fei said, "my subjects were waiting. They saw their proud Demon Lord crawling naked, carrying a human on her back. They were terrified. They thought I had been broken. They were not wrong."

Xuanfa tugged her leash, and Fei's head lifted higher. "Go on."

"He had me carry him to the steps of my own throne hall," Fei said. "And there, before every demon lord, every general, every slave and servant in the city, he announced that he would punish me. Every day, without fail, he made them watch. He forced them to see their Demon Lord being spanked, being whipped on the crack, being given ginger juice enemas, being hung by anal hooks."

Lin Qiaoxin winced. "Anal hooks?"

Fei's smile became hard. "A curved metal hook inserted into the anus, attached to a chain, then hoisted upward so that my entire weight hung from that single point. I would dangle there for hours while he whipped my backside. The hook would dig into my insides with every spasm. It was designed to break the spirit—and it did."

She described the ginger juice enemas in detail: how Xuanfa would fill a large enema bag with ginger juice, hot and concentrated, and insert the tube into her anus while she was still suspended from the hook. The juice would flood her bowels, and the heat would spread through her entire abdomen until she thought she would vomit. Sometimes he would leave her hanging with the juice inside her for an entire day, forcing her to hold it until she lost control.

"Fifty years," Fei said softly. "For fifty years, he punished me in full view of my subjects. I went from laughing at the pain to dreading it. I went from thinking him a fool to understanding that he was my master. My pride did not break in a day. It was ground down, grain by grain, stroke by stroke."

She touched the slave collar around her neck. "One day, I knelt before him. Not because I was forced. Because I understood that resistance was meaningless. I kowtowed and said, 'Fei slave voluntarily becomes the master's female slave, willing to accept all punishments.' And when I said it, I meant it."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que stared at her. The dragon before them was not the proud Demon Lord of old. She knelt with a smile, her golden eyes holding nothing but peace.

"Now," Fei said, her voice shifting to something lighter, playful, "I am just one of Xuanfa's everyday spanked female slaves. My body, my soul, my cultivation—all belong to the master. And somehow, somewhere along the way, I began to feel pleasure from the pain. The spanking that once broke me now makes me moan. The whip that once made me scream now makes me wet."

She laughed, a musical sound. "I love my master's punishments. I beg him to spank me hard. The Heavenly Dao board is my lover's touch. The ginger juice is my morning tonic."

Li Que looked at Fei—at the fiery red hair, the golden horns, the elegant features that still bore the marks of ancient power. But the spirit behind those eyes had been reshaped entirely. There was no trace of the proud Demon Lord who had once thought herself invincible. In her place sat a female slave who found joy in her subjugation.

Lin Qiaoxin let out a slow breath. "And I thought my story was intense," she murmured.

Fei turned to her, her smile warm. "You've only been with the master a short time. Give it a few hundred years, and you'll understand what I mean."

Xuanfa stepped forward and pulled all three leashes taut. "Enough reminiscing. It's time for morning discipline. Positions."

The three women moved in unison, turning and bending over, presenting their backsides to the morning sun. The Heavenly Dao board appeared in Xuanfa's hand, glowing with runic light.

Fei smiled as she waited for the first stroke. The pain was coming, and she welcomed it. It was the only thing that made sense in a world full of chaos.

The board cracked down on Li Que's bottom, and she gasped. Then on Lin Qiaoxin, who giggled. Then on Fei's, and she sighed in contentment.

Three hundred years of punishment, and she had found her peace.

Chapter 2

The Immortal Xia Sect’s main square lay in shattered silence. Broken tiles and debris from the collapsed hall scattered across the stone ground. Dozens of female disciples in white and black robes knelt in rows, their faces pale, tears streaming silently. Above them, Xuanfa stood on a raised platform of cracked jade, his black training clothes untouched by dust, his cold handsome face a mask of indifference.

He looked down at the weeping women. “The Immortal Xia Sect dared to resist my decree. All female cultivators of this sect are to be punished on the buttocks. One hundred strikes of the iron board each, administered here and now.”

A wave of terrified sobs rippled through the disciples. Some clutched each other’s arms. Others buried their faces in their hands. The youngest, barely at Foundation Establishment, trembled so hard their robes shook.

Shen Mengyue struggled to rise from where she had fallen after the duel. Her black and white Dao robe was torn at the shoulder, and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. She staggered forward, then dropped to her knees before Xuanfa, pressing her forehead to the cold stone.

“Heavenly Venerable, please—spare my disciples. They are innocent. I alone defied you. I alone am responsible.” Her voice cracked but she forced it steady. “Punish only me. I beg you.”

Xuanfa’s gaze was like winter frost. “If I punish only you, the penalty must be severe.”

“Anything,” Shen Mengyue said without lifting her head. “I accept anything.”

Fei, standing naked at Xuanfa’s side with her black slave collar gleaming around her throat, let out a soft, musical laugh. Her fiery red hair danced in the wind around her golden dragon horns, and her golden eyes sparkled with amusement. She traced a finger along her own plump bottom. “Oh, this will be fun to watch.”

Xuanfa ignored her. He raised his hand, and a long black board appeared in the air beside him—dense, dark, radiating an aura of absolute law. The Heavenly Dao board. “Then hear your punishment. Every day, for thirty years, your buttocks shall receive two hundred strikes of the Heavenly Dao board. One hundred in the morning, one hundred in the evening. The punishment shall be carried out here, before the main hall, in full view of all your disciples. No clothes. No cultivation to dull the pain. The strikes will be counted aloud.”

Shen Mengyue’s face drained of all color. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Thirty years. Two hundred strikes daily. The Heavenly Dao board was no ordinary implement—it struck the soul as much as the flesh. Every blow would feel like the weight of heaven falling. She had seen cultivators crippled by a single stroke.

“And,” Xuanfa continued, “you are not permitted to wear clothing from this moment forward, until the punishment is complete.”

Fei clapped her hands, her chains jingling softly. “Two hundred boards? Fei slave gets at least five hundred of the Heavenly Dao board every day. Is Sister Moon’s bottom that weak?” She turned, wiggled her shapely, plump rear end provocatively, and grinned. “Master’s spankings are the best. There’s no shame in a red, sore bottom.”

Shen Mengyue closed her eyes. The image of her disciples weeping, the thought of them suffering those cruel boards, was unbearable. She pressed her forehead to the ground again. “I accept.”

Xuanfa pointed a single finger. A thread of silver light shot out and touched Shen Mengyue’s robe. The fabric dissolved like morning mist, shredding from her body in silent tatters. In an instant, she was naked.

Her skin was pure white jade, smooth and flawless, the body of a woman in her prime yet carrying the grace of centuries. Her waist-length black hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back, partially veiling the curve of her spine. Her breasts were full and proud, her hips wide and womanly, her legs long and shapely. But her face burned with shame as her disciples stared. She did not raise her hands to cover herself.

Another gesture from Xuanfa, and a wave of invisible force lifted Shen Mengyue, carried her through the air, and pinned her at the entrance of the main hall. Her upper body bent forward until her palms and forehead touched the ground. Her knees remained on the stone, her thighs spread slightly, and her buttocks rose high—exposed, vulnerable, presented like an offering.

Two identical Heavenly Dao boards materialized behind her, floating upright, imbued with silent judgment.

“Begin,” Xuanfa said.

The first board swung back and cracked down across Shen Mengyue’s right buttock. The sound was sharp, wet, and final. A red stripe bloomed instantly across the pale flesh. She gasped, her fingers clawing at the stone. The second board struck the left cheek a moment later, and her whole body jerked.

*Crack. Crack. Crack.*

The boards fell in perfect rhythm, alternating left and right, each stroke painting a darker, hotter line across her skin. Within ten strokes, her entire bottom was flushed crimson. At twenty, the flesh began to swell. At fifty, she was sobbing openly, tears and spittle on the stone, but she did not beg for mercy.

Fei watched with bright, eager eyes. She stepped closer, then turned to Xuanfa and dropped into a kneel beside her. “Master, Fei slave also wants to be spanked. Please let me join Sister Moon.”

Xuanfa looked at her for a long moment. Then he nodded.

Fei’s face lit up. She scrambled to kneel beside Shen Mengyue, positioned herself the same way—upper body down, knees on the ground, her plump red-haired bottom thrust high in the air. Two more Heavenly Dao boards appeared beside her.

“Fifty strokes for you, Fei,” Xuanfa said. “Since you asked so politely.”

“Yes, Master! Thank you, Master!” She wiggled her buttocks impatiently. “Harder is better!”

The boards began on her as well, and she let out a delighted yelp at the first strike. Her skin turned pink quickly, then red. She moaned with each blow, though whether from pain or pleasure, none could tell. Her golden eyes glazed over, and she licked her lips.

Beside her, Shen Mengyue endured in silence, her back heaving, her bottom now a mass of deep purple welds. The boards continued their relentless rhythm, and the disciples watched in horrified awe, their tears flowing freely.

Xuanfa stood above them both, arms folded, his expression unchanged. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the square, and the sound of the Heavenly Dao boards striking flesh echoed through the Immortal Xia Sect like a terrible bell tolling thirty years of punishment.

The Great Hall of Wuling sweltered under the oppressive weight of the Heavenly Dao Board. Shen Mengyue lay bent over the jade platform, her bare bottom raised high, the pale globes already striped with angry red lines from the first set of strikes. Beside her, Fei knelt on all fours, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders, her golden dragon horns catching the torchlight as she presented her own posterior with eager compliance.

Xuanfa stood before them, his black training robes immaculate, his face a mask of cold indifference. He raised his hand, and the Heavenly Dao Board floated before him, a slab of dark jade inscribed with ancient runes that pulsed with malevolent power.

“Disciples of the Immortal Xia Sect,” Xuanfa said, his voice carrying through the hall without effort, “you witness the punishment of your sect leader for her defiance. Let this be a lesson to all who would challenge my authority.”

The board descended. The sound cracked through the hall like thunder. Shen Mengyue’s body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as the jade connected with her already tender flesh. The impact sent ripples of fire through her buttocks, and she gripped the edges of the platform, her knuckles white.

Fei let out a breathy moan beside her. Her own bottom had been thoroughly beaten already, the skin a deep crimson, but she shifted her hips, pressing back as if seeking more. “Oh, yes,” she murmured, her voice laced with pleasure. “Again, Master. Fei slave deserves another.”

Xuanfa’s lips curled slightly, the barest hint of amusement. “Patience, demon. Your turn will come again soon enough.”

The board struck again, this time landing across Shen Mengyue’s sit spots. She cried out, the sound muffled against her arm. The pain was exquisite, a burning wave that spread through her entire lower body. She had never known such humiliation. Stripped naked before her disciples, forced to endure this savage punishment while Fei—that traitorous demon—seemed to revel in it.

Below the platform, the gathered disciples of the Immortal Xia Sect stood in horrified silence. Many had tears streaming down their faces. Some covered their mouths to stifle sobs. A few of the braver ones exchanged glances, their hands clenching at their sides.

The board struck again. And again. Each blow added another line of fire to Shen Mengyue’s bottom, turning the pale skin into a canvas of painful art. She lost count after twenty. The jade seemed to have a life of its own, finding every sensitive spot, every curve and crease where the flesh was softest.

“Stop!” a voice cried from the crowd. A young male disciple, his face contorted with rage, stepped forward. “You cannot do this to our sect leader! She is a Nascent Soul cultivator! She deserves respect!”

Xuanfa’s eyes flickered toward the disciple. He did not move, did not gesture. A finger twitched, and a beam of black energy shot from his hand, striking the disciple in the chest. The young man flew backward, crashing into the stone wall with a sickening crunch. He slid to the floor, unconscious.

The hall fell into deeper silence.

Xuanfa turned his gaze back to Shen Mengyue. “It seems your disciples care for you,” he said, his tone conversational. “How touching. But every time someone attempts to intervene, your punishment shall be extended.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “As it happens, that young fool’s outburst has earned you fifty additional lashes. And not on your bottom.” He smiled, a cold, predatory expression. “On your crack.”

Shen Mengyue’s blood ran cold. She knew what that meant. The most sensitive, most private part of her body—the seam between her legs that hid both her womanhood and her most intimate orifice—would be laid bare and punished.

Xuanfa waved his hand, and two black whips materialized in the air before him. They were slender, made of some supple dark leather, and they writhed like living serpents. Without a word, he commanded them forward.

One whip flew to Shen Mengyue. Another to Fei.

Shen Mengyue felt invisible hands grasp her ankles and pull her legs apart, spreading them wide. She was completely exposed now, her vulva and anus on full display to the hall. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears of shame leaking from the corners.

Fei, on the other hand, willingly spread her own legs, opening herself to the whip. “Ah, the crack!” she exclaimed, her voice giddy. “You spoil me, Master. The crack is Fei slave’s favorite.”

The first lash landed on Shen Mengyue’s vulva.

The pain was unlike anything she had experienced. It was sharp, searing, intimate. The leather cut across her labia, sending a jolt of agony through her entire pelvis. She screamed, a raw, primal sound that echoed through the hall. Her body convulsed, but the invisible restraints held her in place, legs apart, bottom raised.

Fei’s lash struck her anus. The demoness threw back her head and moaned, a sound that was equal parts pain and ecstasy. “Yes! Thank you, Master! Fei slave thanks you!”

The whips continued, alternating strokes. One lash across Shen Mengyue’s clitoris, then across her perineum. One lash across Fei’s anus, then her vaginal opening. The rhythm was relentless, unforgiving.

Shen Mengyue sobbed openly now. The sensations were overwhelming—a mixture of white-hot pain and something else, something she refused to acknowledge. Her body betrayed her, her hips twitching, her secret flesh swelling with blood despite the torment.

“Thank you, little sister of Immortal Xia!” Fei cried out between lashes, her voice carrying a tone of genuine gratitude. “Thank you for getting Fei slave more punishment! This lucky demon gets to feel Master’s whip on her most private places!”

The disciples below watched in horror. Some had turned away, unable to bear the sight of their revered sect leader being violated in such a manner. Others stared, frozen, their minds unable to process what they were seeing.

After the fiftieth lash—each one precisely delivered to the crack of both women—the whips withdrew. Shen Mengyue’s vulva was swollen, red, glistening with moisture she wished was only sweat. Her anus was puffy, sore. She could barely think through the haze of pain.

But Xuanfa was not finished.

He produced two objects from his storage ring. They were anal hooks—curved metal implements, each with a thick plug at one end and a chain at the other, ending in a ring meant for hanging. The metal gleamed coldly in the torchlight.

“For your disciple’s disobedience,” Xuanfa said, “you will wear these for the remainder of the night.”

He walked behind Shen Mengyue first. She felt the cold metal press against her anus, and she clenched instinctively. But Xuanfa’s hand was firm, and he pushed. The plug stretched her, invaded her, settled deep inside her rectum. She gasped, the sensation foreign and unwelcome. The chain dangled between her legs, the ring clinking softly.

Then he turned to Fei. The demoness arched her back, presenting herself eagerly. “Oh, yes, Master. Fill Fei slave. She has been so empty today.”

Xuanfa inserted the hook with clinical precision. Fei moaned, her body shuddering with pleasure. “Thank you, Master. Fei slave loves her new jewelry.”

With a gesture, Xuanfa commanded the chains to rise. The rings hooked onto a beam above the platform, and both women were lifted, their weight supported by the plugs in their anuses. Shen Mengyue cried out as the pressure shifted, the hook pressing against sensitive internal walls. Fei merely sighed contentedly, her eyes half-closed.

“You will hang here until dawn,” Xuanfa said. “Let this be a reminder of the cost of defiance.”

He turned to face the disciples. “Dismissed. Return to your quarters. Do not test me again.”

The disciples fled, their footsteps echoing as they scattered. Only a handful remained, too terrified to move.

Shen Mengyue hung in agony. The hook inside her seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment. Her bottom throbbed, her crack burned, and the humiliation was a weight heavier than her body. She wept silently.

Fei, meanwhile, swayed gently, a dreamy smile on her lips. “What a wonderful night,” she whispered. “Master is so generous.”

The hours passed. The torches burned low. Shen Mengyue’s body went numb, then painful again. She lost all sense of time.

When dawn finally came, Xuanfa returned. He lowered them from the beam with a flick of his wrist, and the hooks slid out of them with wet sounds. Shen Mengyue collapsed to the platform, unable to stand. Fei landed gracefully, stretching like a satisfied cat.

Xuanfa knelt beside Shen Mengyue. He placed a hand on her ravaged bottom, and she flinched. But instead of more pain, she felt a cool wave of healing energy spread through her flesh. The deep welts faded. The swelling reduced. The redness receded.

But only to a point.

When he withdrew his hand, her bottom was still pink, still slightly swollen. The board marks were gone, but the flesh remained tender, sensitive. She would feel the echoes of her punishment for another day.

“A bottom with board marks is not pretty,” Xuanfa said, his voice soft, almost amused. “I most like to see a beautiful bottom being spanked. Red and swollen is the perfect canvas.”

He turned to Fei. The demoness’s bottom was already mostly healed, her natural regeneration having worked through the night. But Xuanfa did not heal her further.

“Now, Fei, you have five hundred boards to finish. On your knees. Raise your plump bottom.”

Fei’s eyes lit up. She knelt immediately, arching her back, pushing her posterior high into the air. “As Master commands. Fei slave begs for her punishment.”

The Heavenly Dao Board rose again, and Fei began to count each strike, her voice a mixture of screams and moans that filled the hall.

Shen Mengyue watched from the platform, her body broken, her spirit crushed. And in that moment, she understood the true depths of her new existence.

For three years, the Immortal Xia Sect existed under a shadow that never lifted. Every morning, as the sun crept over the peaks, the disciples filed out of their quarters and gathered in the plaza before the main hall. They did not dare to be late. They did not dare to whisper. They stood in neat rows, eyes fixed ahead, as the two figures were led out and made to kneel on the cold stone.

Shen Mengyue knelt on the left, her naked body on full display. Her waist-length black hair spilled down her back, but it could not hide the vivid red that painted her buttocks. She held herself still, her thighs pressed together, her hands resting on her knees. Her face was pale, and she stared at the ground. Beside her, Fei knelt on the right, her fiery red hair flowing wild around her shoulders, her golden dragon horns gleaming in the morning light. The black slave collar encircled her neck, and a thin chain trailed from it, ending in the hand of the clone that stood behind them. Fei's golden eyes held a hint of mirth, as if this daily ritual amused her. Her own buttocks were a deeper crimson, the skin hot and swollen from countless strikes. She shifted her weight slightly, feeling the familiar ache, and smiled.

The clone raised its hand. A thin, flexible rod of black wood appeared in its grip. It stepped forward, and the first strike landed on Shen Mengyue's left buttock. The crack echoed across the plaza. Shen Mengyue's breath hitched, but she made no sound. The rod rose and fell again, striking the right cheek. Then the left. Then the right. The rhythm was steady, unhurried. Each strike painted a fresh line of fire across her skin. After twenty strokes, the clone turned to Fei and delivered the same. Fei took each blow with a soft sigh of pleasure, her body pressing back into the rod as if inviting more. The disciples watched, their faces masks of terror. They had seen this every day for three years. It never became easier to witness their sect leader so debased.

The punishment lasted the length of an incense stick. When it ended, Shen Mengyue's buttocks were a mass of deep red, the flesh trembling from the ordeal. Fei's were even redder, but she rose smoothly, her tail swishing behind her. The clone spoke in Xuanfa's flat voice: "Return to your duties." The disciples scattered like leaves before a storm.

Inside the main hall, Xuanfa sat cross-legged on a dais. A sphere of shimmering light floated before him, rotating slowly. For three years, he had refined the Xuantian Realm, pouring his cultivation into the artifact until it hummed with contained power. It was a small orb, barely the size of a fist, but within it lay a vast space—mountains, rivers, forests, all tailored for the cultivation of female slaves. Rules were etched into its fabric: no clothes permitted, daily spanking administered by the artifact itself, healing after punishment to leave only a lingering redness. The slave would always feel the edge of the last blow, never fully healed, never forgotten.

Fei padded into the hall, her naked body slick with sweat from the morning's blows. She knelt beside the dais, her golden eyes fixed on the sphere. "Master is going to catch a new female slave?" she asked, her voice light and teasing. "Fei will soon have a sister to be spanked with."

Xuanfa did not look at her. "The formation genius, Lin Qiaoxin. She will be the first to enter."

Fei clapped her hands together. "Oh, a lively one. I look forward to teaching her the proper posture." She leaned forward, her chin almost resting on the dais. "Will you bring her here, Master?"

"No. The Immortal Xia Sect is no longer suitable." He stood, and the Xuantian Realm vanished into his sleeve. "I leave now. A clone remains to supervise the punishment. Shen Mengyue will not miss a single stroke."

He descended from the dais. From a compartment in his robes, he produced a thin leather leash, attached it to the ring on Fei's collar, and handed the other end to her. Fei took it without hesitation, her fingers closing around the leather. She turned to where Shen Mengyue stood in the doorway, wrapped in a thin robe, her face expressionless.

"Don't think about escaping or committing suicide," Fei said, her tone almost cheerful. "Both are acts of resisting punishment. Resisting punishment in front of the master is far more terrifying than death." She smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "I know. I tried once."

Shen Mengyue said nothing. Her eyes were hollow.

Fei leaped into the air, her form shifting as she flew, her fiery hair trailing behind her like a banner. She held the leash loosely, letting it dangle. Xuanfa stepped onto her back, his feet planted firmly between her shoulder blades. Without a word, he gestured, and Fei shot forward, carrying them away from the Immortal Xia Sect, toward the horizon where the next punishment awaited.

Xuanfa descended from the sky like a black bolt of lightning, landing silently on the winding mountain path. The morning mist curled around his boots as he strode forward, his cold eyes scanning the dense forest ahead. He had left the Immortal Xia Sect behind, its disciples still buzzing with the scandal of their sect leader’s naked humiliation. But he cared nothing for their whispers. His target was Lin Qiaoxin, the mischievous rogue cultivator who had caught his attention in Chapter 4.

He found her in a clearing, surrounded by a shimmering array of talismans and glowing crystals. Lin Qiaoxin sat cross-legged in the center of her formation, her red dress fluttering in the breeze, twin tails of black hair bouncing as she hummed a cheerful tune. She was tinkering with a small jade tablet, her fingers dancing over its surface. At the sound of footsteps, she looked up, and her eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh! It’s you, Mister Xuanfa!” She scrambled to her feet, brushing dust from her skirt. “I heard all about what you did to Sect Leader Shen. Stripped her bare and spanked her bottom in front of everyone. Quite the reputation you’ve built.” She grinned, unafraid. “But what brings you to little old me?”

Xuanfa did not answer immediately. Instead, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A shimmer of light tore through the air beside him, and Fei materialized, naked as the day she was born, her black slave collar gleaming around her neck. Her fiery red hair streamed wildly in the wind, and her golden horns caught the sunlight. She knelt on all fours, her back arched, and Xuanfa calmly stepped onto her back, seating himself on the smooth curve of her spine. Fei rose gracefully, bearing his weight without a tremor, her golden eyes half-closed in serene submission.

Lin Qiaoxin’s playful expression froze. She stared at Fei—at the perfect, immortal body, the dragon horns, the commanding presence that screamed of a Nascent Soul Great Perfection expert reduced to a mount. “You… you ride a Dragon Clan Demon Lord like a horse?” Her voice cracked. “And she’s naked? With that collar?”

Fei let out a soft, teasing laugh. “Little sister Xin, you say that like it’s a bad thing. Master rides me everywhere. My body is his mount, my bottom his seat.” She winked, a mischievous glint in her golden eyes. “And when he’s done riding, he spanks me harder than any demon beast ever could.”

Xuanfa ignored the byplay. He looked down at Lin Qiaoxin, his face expressionless. “Lin Qiaoxin, you will become my female slave. From today, you will obey me, serve me, and submit to my punishments. That is my decree.”

Lin Qiaoxin blinked, then laughed. “What? Just like that? You’re so domineering! Spanking hurts, you know. I’ve seen what you did to Shen Mengyue—her bottom was all red and swollen. No thank you!” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I’m not willing.”

Xuanfa’s eyes narrowed. In a blur of motion, he dismounted Fei and seized Lin Qiaoxin by the waist, flipping her over his knee before she could react. She yelped, her legs kicking as she found herself bent over, her bottom presented upward. Fei glided over, unbuckling the sash of Lin Qiaoxin’s red dress with practiced ease. The fabric slid down, baring her pale thighs and the delicate white undergarment beneath. Fei tugged that down too, revealing a plump, perfectly rounded bottom—pale and unmarked, smooth as jade.

“No! Wait!” Lin Qiaoxin squirmed, but Fei pinned her legs firmly, kneeling to hold them apart. Xuanfa summoned the mysterious board, a flat slab of dark wood etched with runes, and brought it down with a sharp crack! The sound echoed through the clearing.

“Ahh!” Lin Qiaoxin’s back arched, her twin tails flying. The board left a pink welt across the center of her right buttock. She twisted, trying to escape, but Xuanfa’s grip was iron. “That hurt! Stop! You can’t just—crack!—Ow!”

“If you do not agree, I will keep spanking,” Xuanfa said calmly, raising the board again. It fell in a steady rhythm: crack, crack, crack. Each strike painted a new red stripe across her pale skin. Lin Qiaoxin’s bottom jiggled with every impact, the flesh quivering as it turned from pink to crimson. Her thighs trembled, and tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes.

“You’re so unfair!” she wailed, pounding her fists against his knee. “I didn’t do anything to you! Why do I have to be your slave?” Another crack, and she squealed, her toes curling. “I’ll… I’ll consider it! Just stop!”

Xuanfa paused, the board hovering. “There is no consideration. You will agree, or I will spank you until you cannot sit for a month. And then I will continue.”

Fei leaned close, her warm breath tickling Lin Qiaoxin’s ear. “Little sister Xin, it’s better to obey obediently. Fei slave didn’t have a choice either. When Master defeated me, he stripped me naked in front of my entire demon army—hundreds of thousands of beasts watching. Then he summoned this same board and spanked my bottom three thousand times.” She giggled, as if recalling a fond memory. “Even Fei slave’s immortal body couldn’t bear it. I cried like a baby, howling in misery—‘Master, please stop! Fei slave will obey!’ And then, after all that, he stuffed ginger strips into my anus. The burning lasted for days.” She nuzzled Lin Qiaoxin’s ear. “Does little sister Xin want to taste ginger strips too?”

Lin Qiaoxin’s eyes went wide. The image of a Nascent Soul Great Perfection Dragon Clan demon lord crying and begging sent a chill down her spine. She looked back over her shoulder at Xuanfa’s cold face, then at Fei’s smiling, predatory gaze. The board was still raised, ready to fall again.

“But… but why me?” she whimpered.

Xuanfa spoke, his voice flat. “As my female slave, you will have access to higher realms. I will guide you to the peak of cultivation. Fei, a Nascent Soul Great Perfection expert, will teach you what she knows. You are a genius, Lin Qiaoxin. You can break through to Nascent Soul and beyond. All you must do is submit.”

Lin Qiaoxin bit her lip. The pain in her bottom throbbed, a fiery ache that spread across her entire backside. She thought of her freedom, her jokes, her carefree life. But she also thought of the power Xuanfa wielded—power that could crush her, break her, or lift her. And Fei, a being she had only heard of in legends, knelt at his feet.

“Fine!” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I agree! I’ll be your female slave! Just don’t hit me anymore!”

Xuanfa lowered the board. Fei released her legs. Lin Qiaoxin slumped over his knee, sniffling, her bottom a mass of red welts and angry stripes. Xuanfa placed a hand on her head, and she flinched.

“You have chosen wisely,” he said.

The air around them shimmered. A portal of swirling black and white energy tore open before them, revealing a vast realm of towering mountains and endless sky—the Xuantian Realm. Lin Qiaoxin felt a pull, a gentle suction that lifted her off Xuanfa’s knee. She yelped as she was drawn into the portal, still naked from the waist down, her skirt and undergarments lying forgotten on the grass.

Fei rose to her feet, her naked body gleaming, and gave a graceful bow. “Master, may Fei slave go first?”

Xuanfa nodded. Fei stepped into the portal, her fiery red hair disappearing into the light. Then Xuanfa followed, his black robes billowing as he passed through the threshold.

The clearing fell silent. Only the abandoned talismans and the faint echo of Lin Qiaoxin’s cries remained.

Lin Qiaoxin stepped through the shimmering portal into the Xuantian Realm, and the moment her feet touched the smooth, obsidian floor, a strange sensation rippled across her skin. She glanced down and saw her red dress dissolve into motes of light, vanishing like morning mist. A soft weight settled around her neck, and she reached up to touch it—a black slave collar, cool and snug against her throat, identical to the one Fei wore.

She stood naked, her twin tails of black hair swaying as she turned her head. Her youthful, cute face flushed with surprise, but a grin quickly spread across her lips. "Well, that's one way to start a tour," she said, her voice light. Her slim, well-proportioned body was fully exposed—small, perky breasts, a narrow waist, and a pert bottom that curved neatly behind her. She made no move to cover herself, instead striking a playful pose with her hands on her hips.

Xuanfa stood nearby, his black training clothes immaculate, his cold, handsome face unreadable. He gestured with a finger, and the space around them shifted. They stood in a vast chamber carved from living rock, walls lined with ancient formation diagrams that glowed with faint, silvery light. Floating platforms held scrolls and tomes, their pages filled with cultivation texts on formations. The air hummed with ambient qi, perfectly attuned to a formation master's needs.

"This is your space," Xuanfa said, his voice flat. "The environment is optimized for your practice. Ancient formation texts are available for your study."

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes widened as she scanned the room. "Impressive. But I imagine there's a price?"

Xuanfa's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "Two hundred strikes of the Heavenly Dao board each day, divided into morning and evening sessions."

Lin Qiaoxin let out a low whistle. "Ouch. And Fei?"

Xuanfa glanced down at Fei, who knelt at his feet, her fiery red hair cascading over her bare shoulders. The black slave collar gleamed against her neck, and her golden dragon horns caught the light. She looked up with a teasing smile, her plump breasts brushing against her thighs as she shifted.

"Five hundred strikes a day for Fei," Xuanfa said.

Fei sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "Alas, in the past, Fei slave resisted the master too fiercely. Now I get my bottom beaten until it blooms every day." She wiggled her delicate bottom, the muscles flexing as she rotated her hips. The motion drew attention to her full, rounded cheeks, which bore faint red marks from previous punishments.

Lin Qiaoxin laughed. "At least your bottom didn't suffer in vain. Mine's about to get a real education."

As she spoke, a wooden board materialized in the air beside her—wide, polished, and glowing with a faint golden hue. The Heavenly Dao board hovered, waiting.

Lin Qiaoxin's playful demeanor sobered. She knew the rules. Without hesitation, she knelt on the cool floor, positioning herself on all fours. She raised her buttocks high, arching her back so her bottom presented itself fully—smooth, pale, and vulnerable. The twin tails of her black hair brushed the ground as she lowered her head.

"I'm ready," she said, her voice steady.

The Heavenly Dao board rose, swung back, and cracked down across her right cheek. A sharp slap echoed through the chamber, and Lin Qiaoxin gasped, her body jerking forward. The board lifted and struck again, landing on her left cheek with equal force. A red handprint bloomed on her skin.

The board fell into a rhythm, each strike precise and punishing. Lin Qiaoxin's bottom began to redden, the skin heating from white to pink to crimson. She bit her lip, trying to hold back cries, but the pain was relentless. The board drove into her flesh, leaving raised welts that crossed and overlapped. Moans escaped her throat, growing louder with each blow.

Her knees trembled, and sweat beaded on her brow. The board cracked down on her sit spots, then the tender crease where her thighs met her cheeks. She whimpered, tears streaming down her face, but she kept her position, her buttocks quivering under the assault.

After one hundred strokes, her bottom was a deep, angry red, covered in distinct board marks. The next hundred drove the pain deeper, making her sob. She arched her back, trying to endure, but the board found every sensitive spot.

Finally, the board ceased its assault. Lin Qiaoxin collapsed forward, her chest heaving. Her bottom throbbed, the skin hot and tender, but she pushed herself up, crawling toward Xuanfa. She knelt before him, her head bowed, and pressed her forehead to the floor in a deep kowtow.

"Xin slave voluntarily becomes the master's female slave," she said, her voice raw but sincere. "Willing to accept all punishments."

Xuanfa inclined his head. "Rise."

The Xuantian Realm hummed, and a wave of healing energy washed over Lin Qiaoxin's bottom. The board marks faded, but the skin remained swollen and red, still tender to the touch. She winced as she straightened, but a smile returned to her face.

Fei sidled up to her, winking. "It's good to have a sister to be spanked with now. Misery loves company, as they say."

Before Lin Qiaoxin could reply, Fei's Heavenly Dao board materialized. Fei shot a playful glance at Xuanfa, then knelt with practiced grace, her bottom presented high. The board hovered momentarily, then crashed down.

The sound was sharper, more brutal, and Fei's full, plump cheeks absorbed each strike with violent jiggles. Her fiery red hair whipped around her shoulders as she gasped. The board struck relentlessly, painting her skin a burning crimson. Welts rose quickly, crossing over old scars.

Fei bit her lip, but moans escaped between grunts. "Ah—master—harder—" she breathed, her words punctuated by slaps. Her bottom bounced with each blow, the flesh flexing as the board dug deep. Tears pricked at her golden eyes, but she smiled through them, loving the sting.

The board drove into her sit spots, then the sensitive crease, until her entire bottom was a swollen, throbbing expanse of red. She cried out, her claws scraping the floor, but she held position.

The punishment continued, unrelenting, the chamber filling with the sound of flesh against wood and the sweet, pained cries of a demon lord who had long ago learned to love her master's discipline.

Twelve years had passed since Lin Qiaoxin first knelt before Xuanfa. In that time, the playful rogue cultivator had grown into a young woman of formidable skill, her talent honed under the harsh tutelage of both the Heavenly Venerable and his ancient dragon slave, Fei.

Now, within the boundless white expanse of the Xuantian Realm, a vortex of spiritual energy swirled around a single kneeling figure. Lin Qiaoxin's naked body was slick with sweat, her black twin-tails plastered to her shoulders. Her eyes were clenched shut, her lips pressed tight as the swirling energy converged into her dantian. The pressure was immense, a grinding force that sought to shatter her meridians or forge them anew. Fei stood a few paces away, her own naked form a vision of fiery elegance. The golden dragon horns atop her head caught the ethereal light, and her red hair flowed like molten lava down her back. The black slave collar at her throat gleamed dully. She watched with a faint, knowing smile.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Lin Qiaoxin's eyes flew open. The vortex imploded into her core, and a wave of power erupted outward. The air crackled. The spiritual pressure in the realm intensified, then settled. Lin Qiaoxin's cultivation base had stabilized at the early Nascent Soul stage.

She panted, trembling, then slowly lowered her forehead to the ground, her voice husky with exhaustion. "Many thanks to the master for nurturing. Xin slave has fulfilled expectations and broken through to early Nascent Soul."

Before her, Xuanfa sat upon a simple black throne, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He wore his customary black training clothes, and his dark eyes held no warmth as they swept over her. "Mm." His voice was flat. "Have you gotten used to the spanking punishment now?"

Lin Qiaoxin raised her head, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. She stuck out her tongue, her tone light despite her nakedness and the lingering aches. "No, the Heavenly Dao board is too painful. Every time, I get spanked to the brink of death. Xin slave is not a pervert like Sister Fei, who gets happier the more her butt is spanked."

Fei's golden eyes narrowed. She sauntered closer, her hips swaying with practiced confidence. "You little brat," she said, her voice carrying a teasing growl. "I guide you all the time, and now you're badmouthing me? Let's see if I don't use the Heavenly Dao board to beat your bottom into mush."

As if summoned by her words, a dull thrum filled the air. Above them, the space shimmered, and a flat, dark slab of wood materialized. The Heavenly Dao board—an instrument of punishment bound to the realm's will. It hovered, then tilted. With a sharp crack, it swung downward.

Lin Qiaoxin yelped, instinctively flipping onto her hands and knees. She raised her naked bottom high, a gesture drilled into her over a decade of obedience. The board struck her left cheek with a sound like thunder. A red welt bloomed instantly across her pale skin. She gasped, tears springing to her eyes. *Crack.* Another strike, this time on her right cheek. Her thighs quivered. The board was relentless, falling again and again in a steady rhythm—*crack, crack, crack*—each blow painting her bottom a deeper shade of crimson. She sobbed, her knuckles white against the ground, her voice cracking with each impact. "Please… please, Master… it hurts…"

Beside her, Fei had also assumed the position. Her own reddened bottom was already striped with countless faint marks from previous days, a testament to years of punishment. She arched her back, presenting her cheeks proudly. The board struck her with the same force. A loud *WHACK* echoed. But instead of crying out, Fei let out a low, throaty moan. Her eyes fluttered half-closed. The board rained blows upon her—*whap, whack, crack*—each one harder than the last. Her buttocks bounced and jiggled under the assault, turning from pink to deep scarlet. She gasped, but it was a sound of pleasure. "Yes… harder…" she breathed, her golden eyes glazed.

The board seemed to oblige. It rose high and came down with brutal force directly on the crease where her thighs met her buttocks. Fei's breath hitched, and a shiver ran through her entire body. "Ah… Master's punishment is the best…" She rocked her hips slightly, as if seeking more.

Lin Qiaoxin, meanwhile, was a mess of tears and choked whimpers. Her bottom was swollen, fiery red, the skin stretched taut and shiny. The board struck the same spot twice in a row, and she cried out, her tears dripping onto the white floor. "I'm sorry, Sister Fei! I take it back! It hurts! It hurts so much!"

After fifty strokes for Lin Qiaoxin and sixty for Fei—the board differentiating by some unfathomable logic—the instrument finally stilled. It hovered for a moment, then faded back into the ether. The Xuantian Realm's healing energy seeped into Lin Qiaoxin's ravaged bottom, soothing the pain, though the redness remained. Her buttocks were still beautifully shaped, pert and round despite the countless punishments, thanks to the realm's restorative power. The sweat glistened on her slender back, on the curve of her waist, on the soft swell of her breasts. She remained on all fours, panting.

Xuanfa regarded them both with cold satisfaction. "If I let you fight an opponent of the same level, do you have confidence?"

Lin Qiaoxin spoke intermittently, still catching her breath, her voice trembling. "Yes… I do." She swallowed. "Xin slave will win."

"Good." Xuanfa's tone was final. "In a few days, I'll find an opponent of the same level for you. If you win, you'll be rewarded with a precious pill. If you lose…" His gaze flicked to Fei. "Just wait for Fei slave to beat your bottom until it's mush."

Fei licked her lips, a predatory smile curving her mouth. "Oh, I'll make sure it's the most memorable punishment of your life, little sister."

Lin Qiaoxin shuddered, but she gritted her teeth. She would not lose. Not when the alternative was that gleeful dragon turning her rear into a ruined pulp.