Punishment of the Celestial Venerable Xuanfa

The morning sun cast long shadows across the peak of the Immortal Gorge Sect, its golden light filtering through the mist that clung to the ancient pines. The sect, nestled among three valleys, was known throughout the cultivation world for its all-female disciples and its formidable head, Shen Mengyue. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of blooming spirit herbs and the faint hum of protective formations.

In the cultivation world, power was measured in realms: Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, and finally Soul Transformation. But there was another, older custom—one that many female cultivators despised yet could not escape. When a male cultivator defeated a female in combat, he could claim her as a female slave by spanking her bare buttocks. And in doing so, both cultivators’ spiritual power would accelerate, the act forging a bond of cultivation. Most female cultivators resisted this fate, but the law of the strong prevailed.

Celestial Venerable Xuanfa knew this custom well. In fact, he relished it. He wore black training clothes, simple and unadorned, yet they could not hide the cold, handsome lines of his face. His eyes were pools of dark ice, rarely showing any emotion. Standing at the late-stage Nascent Soul Great Perfection, he was considered one of the strongest in the world, second only to the few Soul Transformation elders who rarely showed themselves. He loved spanking women’s buttocks—not from cruelty, but from a deep, unshakeable satisfaction in the act. And he always kept his word, no matter how harsh that word might be.

Today, a disciple of the Immortal Gorge Sect had made a grave mistake. During a trade of spirit herbs at a market fair, she had accidentally splashed a cauldron of waste elixir onto Xuanfa’s robe. An honest accident, but Xuanfa did not care for accidents. He had simply looked at the trembling young woman, then turned and walked toward the Immortal Gorge Sect’s mountain gate.

Now he stood before that very gate, a jade arch adorned with carvings of phoenixes and lotuses. The two guard disciples, Core Formation cultivators in white and black robes, recognized him at once and their faces paled.

“Celestial Venerable Xuanfa,” one stammered, bowing deeply. “What brings you to our sect?”

Xuanfa’s voice was flat, like stone scraping against stone. “Your disciple spilled waste on me. I have come to collect compensation.”

The second disciple swallowed. “We will certainly offer compensation, honored Venerable. Spirit stones, elixirs, anything—”

“I do not want spirit stones.” Xuanfa’s eyes narrowed. “I want to spank every female cultivator in your sect until their buttocks bloom like peonies. That is my compensation.”

The guard disciples gasped. They stepped back, hands instinctively moving to their weapons, but they knew better than to draw against a late-stage Nascent Soul.

“We must inform the sect head,” one said, her voice trembling.

“Do it quickly,” Xuanfa replied. “I am not patient.”

Within minutes, the entire Immortal Gorge Sect was in an uproar. Disciples gathered in the main plaza, whispering in fear and indignation. Some were Core Formation, most were Foundation Establishment, and a handful of Qi Refining apprentices looked on with wide eyes. They all knew the custom. They all knew what it meant if Xuanfa succeeded.

Then Shen Mengyue descended from the main hall, her black hair flowing to her waist, her white and black Daoist robe billowing in the wind. She was a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, head of the sect, and she carried herself with both the pure grace of a young woman and the magnetic allure of a mature cultivator. Her eyes held cold fire.

“Xuanfa,” she said, her voice calm but edged with steel. “You threaten my sect over a spilled elixir?”

“It was not a threat,” Xuanfa replied, standing in the middle of the plaza with his hands clasped behind his back. “It is a statement of what will happen.”

“Then I challenge you,” Shen Mengyue declared. “A duel. If I win, you leave and never return. If you win—” she paused, jaw tightening—“you may spank me, but you leave my disciples alone.”

Xuanfa’s lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile. “That is not the agreement. If I win, I spank every woman in your sect. Including you. One hundred strikes with Mysterious Wooden Boards every day for three years.”

The crowd gasped. Mysterious Wooden Boards were enchanted—they would not break skin, but the pain would be immense, and the humiliation absolute.

Shen Mengyue’s hand went to her sword, a blade named Clear Frost. “You are unreasonable.”

“I am fair,” Xuanfa said. “I offer you this choice: submit now, and I will reduce the sentence to fifty strikes each. Resist, and the full hundred stands. But I always keep my promises.”

“Then I will resist,” Shen Mengyue said, and she drew her sword.

The battle that followed shook the very foundations of the Immortal Gorge Sect. Shen Mengyue’s sword techniques were elegant and deadly—she weaved threads of spiritual light, cutting through the air with precision that could cleave mountains. But Xuanfa did not draw a weapon. He used only his fingers, tracing symbols in the air that deflected her strikes as if they were leaves in the wind.

He moved with economy, never wasting a motion. A flick of his index finger sent a bolt of black energy that shattered Shen Mengyue’s sword stance. She dodged, rolled, and came up with a crescent slash aimed at his neck. He caught the blade between two fingers and twisted. The sword vibrated, nearly flying from her grip.

Sweat beaded on Shen Mengyue’s brow. She had fought many battles, but Xuanfa was different. He was not just strong—he was perfect. Every movement anticipated her next, every defense was impenetrable. He was holding back, and she knew it.

After a full exchange of three hundred moves, Shen Mengyue was gasping, her spiritual energy nearly depleted. Xuanfa had not even broken a sweat. He had used perhaps seventy percent of his strength.

With a final, casual gesture, he formed a finger seal. A wave of gravitational pressure slammed into Shen Mengyue, pinning her to the ground. Her sword clattered away. She lay on the cold stone plaza, her robes torn and dirty, her hair loose around her face.

Xuanfa walked toward her, his footsteps echoing in the stunned silence. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable.

“You resisted,” he said. “Stubbornly. That is admirable, but it changes nothing. Now you will all receive one hundred strikes every day for three years.”

Shen Mengyue pushed herself up on her elbows, her eyes blazing with defiance and despair. “You cannot do this.”

“I can,” Xuanfa said. “And I will. Bring the Mysterious Wooden Boards. We begin now.”

The disciples wept. Some tried to run, but Xuanfa raised a hand and a barrier of black light sealed the plaza. There was no escape.

Shen Mengyue closed her eyes, feeling the cold stone beneath her. The first day of a three-year punishment had begun. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Fifteen years had passed in the Mysterious Heaven Realm, and time flowed like sand through an hourglass within the secluded valley Xuanfa had claimed as his domain. Li Que had long since grown accustomed to the daily rhythm of her existence, a rhythm punctuated by the sharp crack of Heavenly Way Wooden Boards against her raised buttocks. Each morning, as the sun crested the eastern peaks, she would kneel beside Lin Qiaoxin, bend her athletic frame forward, and present her red-haired backside for the mandated punishment. The boards flew of their own accord, animated by Xuanfa's will, striking with mechanical precision until the required count was met. Two hundred strokes each day, without fail, without mercy.

The routine had become as natural as breathing. Li Que's body had adapted, her buttocks developing a resilience that surprised even herself. The initial agony had faded into something almost bearable, a familiar discomfort that she had learned to endure with gritted teeth and clenched fists. Lin Qiaoxin, ever the resilient one, had taken to humming cheerful tunes during their daily punishment, her playful spirit unbroken despite the humiliation.

But the routine extended far beyond the wooden boards. Xuanfa's favorite leisure activity involved a dog leash, usually black leather with silver studs, which he would attach to the collars around Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que's necks. He would lead them, naked and crawling on all fours like bitches in heat, through the winding paths of the valley. Their breasts would drag against the grass, their knees would scrape against stone, and their exposed buttocks would sway with each crawling step for Xuanfa's viewing pleasure.

"Faster," Xuanfa would command, his cold voice carrying no room for argument. "A good bitch knows how to keep pace with her master."

And they would obey, their hands and knees moving in synchronized rhythm, their heads bowed in submission. The grass tickled their stomachs, the wind caressed their bare skin, and the weight of their master's gaze pressed down upon them like an invisible hand.

On this particular day, the sun hung high overhead, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard where Xuanfa sat upon a carved jade throne. Li Que and Lin Qiaoxin knelt before him, their naked bodies gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat from their morning crawl. The collars around their necks were cool against their skin, the leashes coiled neatly beside them.

"Master," Lin Qiaoxin spoke first, her voice carrying its usual playful lilt despite her vulnerable position. "Li Que and I have been wondering something."

Xuanfa's eyes, cold and piercing as winter frost, fixed upon her. "Speak."

Li Que straightened her back, her red hair cascading over her shoulders. "We wish to know, Master, what pleases you most in this world. What brings true satisfaction to your heart?"

A long silence stretched between them. Xuanfa's expression remained unchanged, his face an unreadable mask of cold handsomeness. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of absolute certainty.

"I enjoy watching female cultivators being spanked and tortured," he said, each word deliberate and precise. "The suffering of cultivators like yourselves strengthens me, both mentally and in my cultivation. Their cries of pain, their tears of humiliation, the way their bodies break and reform under my will—this is what pleases me most."

Lin Qiaoxin's lips curled into a knowing smile. Li Que's eyes gleamed with understanding.

"Then Master, there is an opportunity before us," Li Que said, her voice steady. "The entire cultivation world already knows that Shen Mengyue, the head of the Immortal Gorge Sect, was stripped naked and spanked on her bare buttocks at the sect hall entrance. That humiliation has spread through every city, every mountain, every gathering of cultivators from here to the Eastern Seas."

"But what they do not know," Lin Qiaoxin continued, picking up the thread, "is that formation genius Lin Qiaoxin and Vermilion Bird Sect deputy head Li Que have become your female slaves. Our submission remains a secret, and secrets have power only when revealed."

Xuanfa's eyes narrowed slightly, a rare sign of interest.

"We propose this," Li Que said, leaning forward. "Lead us, crawling on all fours like bitches on dog leashes, to the highest terrace of Wuling City. Have Shen Mengyue brought there as well, led by a disciple on a leash from her own sect. The three of us will kneel side by side, upper bodies bent forward, raising our full buttocks high for all to see."

"Then summon the Heavenly Way Wooden Boards to spank us automatically," Lin Qiaoxin added, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "Beat our buttocks until they are totally ruined, to the point that even cultivators of our standing would need a week to recover. Then force our legs apart and lash our buttock clefts with whips until our anuses and vaginas are swollen and red. Then insert anal hooks into our swollen anuses and hang us up for a week's public display."

The two women fell silent, their proposal hanging in the air like a fragrant incense. They watched Xuanfa's face, searching for any sign of approval or rejection.

Xuanfa's lips curved upward, the slightest hint of a smile that did not reach his cold eyes. "Your proposal pleases me. We shall proceed with this plan."

Relief and excitement flooded through Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que. They bowed their heads in gratitude, their bare buttocks rising slightly as they prostrated themselves before their master.

"But before that," Xuanfa continued, his voice shifting to a tone that made both women's hearts skip a beat, "I wish to try some new punishments. A master must expand his repertoire, and loyal bitches deserve to experience novel forms of discipline."

He rose from his jade throne, his black training clothes flowing around his tall, powerful frame. With a gesture of his hand, he summoned a clay jar from within his storage ring. The jar was unremarkable, brown and simple, but the contents within radiated a faint spiritual energy that made Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que's skin prickle with unease.

"Kneel," Xuanfa commanded. "Raise your buttocks. Spread your anuses with your own hands."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que exchanged a glance, then complied without hesitation. They turned around, presenting their backsides to their master, and reached back with their hands to part their buttock cheeks. The cool air kissed their exposed anuses, making them clench involuntarily.

Xuanfa uncorked the jar, and the sharp, pungent scent of ginger filled the air. But this was no ordinary ginger. These were divine ginger roots, harvested from the deepest reaches of the Mysterious Heaven Realm, their potency magnified a hundredfold by the spiritual energy that had nurtured them for millennia. The juice squeezed from such roots was a liquid fire, capable of burning through flesh and spirit alike.

He poured the pale yellow liquid into a thin tube, then approached Lin Qiaoxin first. "You proposed this plan so eagerly. You shall be the first to taste this new punishment."

The tube pressed against Lin Qiaoxin's anus, cold and unyielding. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. But no amount of preparation could have readied her for what came next.

The ginger juice flowed into her intestines like molten lava.

A scream tore from Lin Qiaoxin's throat, raw and primal. Her body convulsed, her hands flying from her buttocks to claw at the stone floor. The sensation was beyond pain, beyond agony—it was as if a red-hot iron rod had been thrust into her anus, searing through her insides with relentless heat. Her vision went white, her muscles locked, and her mind shattered into a thousand fragments of pure, undiluted suffering.

"Hold still," Xuanfa said, his voice cold and calm. "If you move, I will pour another dose."

Lin Qiaoxin bit her lip so hard that blood dripped down her chin. Her entire body trembled like a leaf in a storm, sweat pouring from every pore. The ginger juice spread through her intestines, coating every internal surface with its burning essence. She could feel it moving inside her, a liquid inferno that refused to cool.

Then it was Li Que's turn.

The red-haired woman had watched Lin Qiaoxin's reaction with growing dread, but she did not flinch when Xuanfa approached. She was proud, a warrior who had faced countless battles. She would endure this as she had endured everything else.

The tube pressed against her anus. The ginger juice flowed in.

And Li Que's world exploded into fire.

She had been wrong. So terribly wrong. This was not pain she could endure through sheer willpower. This was agony that bypassed all defenses, that struck directly at the soul. Her screams joined Lin Qiaoxin's, echoing across the stone courtyard in a symphony of torment. Her body bucked and writhed, her red hair whipping around her face as she thrashed on the ground. The burning spread through her abdomen, up into her stomach, down into her thighs. Every nerve ending screamed in protest.

They struggled wildly, their bodies no longer under their control. Lin Qiaoxin curled into a fetal position, her hands clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her face. Li Que pressed her forehead against the cold stone, trying to find any anchor of relief from the inferno within her.

Xuanfa watched them with cold satisfaction, his hands clasped behind his back. "This is merely the appetizer," he said. "The main course arrives shortly."

As if on cue, the Heavenly Way Wooden Boards materialized in the air, twenty of them arranged in a perfect formation. They were the daily punishment boards, come to administer the two hundred strokes that Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que received each day.

But today, the boards would not be met with prepared resilience. Today, they would strike bodies already consumed by internal fire.

"Assume your positions," Xuanfa commanded. "And remember—if you lose control and spray intestinal fluid during the spanking, the punishment will be doubled."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que forced themselves to kneel, their bodies shaking violently. They bent forward, pressing their foreheads to the ground, and raised their buttocks high. Lin Qiaoxin's usually cheerful face was contorted in pain, her double low ponytails hanging disheveled around her cheeks. Li Que's athletic frame trembled with the effort of holding still, her hands clenched into tight fists on either side of her head.

The first board struck.

The impact was like lightning striking an already burning forest. The pain of the board against Lin Qiaoxin's tender buttocks combined with the fire of the ginger juice to create a symphony of agony that defied description. She screamed, her legs kicking involuntarily, her fingers scraping against the stone floor. The ginger juice shifted inside her with each movement, spreading to new territories, igniting new fires.

Li Que received her first strike with a guttural roar that was half scream, half curse. Her red hair flew as her head snapped back, her teeth bared in a grimace of pure suffering. The board had landed on the lower curve of her right buttock, and she could feel the welt rising even through the burning in her intestines.

The boards continued to fall, each strike precisely measured, perfectly timed. Five strikes on Lin Qiaoxin, then five on Li Que. Then back to Lin Qiaoxin. The rhythm was relentless, the pain unending.

By the tenth strike, Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks were covered in red welts. The ginger juice was moving inside her with increasing urgency, the heat building toward an inevitable climax. She squeezed her sphincter with all her might, trying to contain the inferno within, but the boards made it impossible. Each strike caused her muscles to spasm, her control to slip.

"Hold it in," she whispered to herself, tears streaming down her face. "Hold it in, hold it in, hold it—"

The twelfth strike landed squarely on the center of her right buttock, and

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The morning sun cast long shadows across Wuling City as Xuanfa strode through the main gates, his black training clothes immaculate, his face a mask of cold indifference. At his sides, two dog leashes trailed down to collars cinched around the necks of Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que, both women crawling on all fours, their naked bodies fully exposed to the bustling streets.

The city fell silent. Merchants stopped mid-transaction. Children were pulled behind their mothers' skirts. Cultivators from a dozen sects turned to stare, their jaws dropping as they recognized the two women—one a rising genius who had recently broken through to Nascent Soul, the other a deputy head of the Vermilion Bird Sect, a woman known for her pride and combat prowess.

Lin Qiaoxin's red dress was nowhere to be seen. Her youthful body, slender and perfectly proportioned, was painted with the pale morning light. Her black double ponytails swayed as she crawled, and on her upturned buttocks, a lattice of purple and black bruises told the story of recent discipline. She kept her head low, but a small smile played at her lips.

Beside her, Li Que moved with athletic grace despite her position. Her red hair, tied in its signature high ponytail, bobbed with each crawl. Taller and more muscular than Lin Qiaoxin, her body bore the marks of a warrior, and her buttocks were similarly decorated with fresh welts and contusions. She too crawled without resistance, her eyes fixed on Xuanfa's heels.

But beneath their composed exteriors, a torment raged that no onlooker could see. In their intestines, ginger juice churned and burned, a punishment Xuanfa had administered before entering the city. The pungent, spicy liquid had been forced deep into their bodies, and now it sent waves of fiery agony through their abdomens with every movement. Their assholes clenched and unclenched involuntarily, trying to expel the burning substance, but the action only spread it further, coating their inner walls with liquid fire.

Lin Qiaoxin's thighs trembled as she crawled. The ginger juice had been injected with a specialized tool, a pump that forced the liquid deep into her bowels, and now it felt as though her insides were being scoured with hot coals. She bit her lower lip to keep from whimpering, focusing instead on the joy of serving her master. This was a test, she knew. A trial of her devotion. And she would pass it with flying colors.

Li Que's jaw was set in a hard line. The ginger torture was unlike any pain she had experienced in battle. It was insidious, creeping, impossible to ignore. Her anus burned with each step of her hands and knees, and she could feel the liquid shifting inside her as she moved. But she too welcomed the pain. She had chosen this path, chosen to submit to Xuanfa, and she would prove herself worthy of his ownership.

They crawled through the main thoroughfare, past stalls selling spirit herbs and talismans, past cultivators who pointed and whispered, past mortals who stared in shock. The dog leashes clinked against their collars, and Xuanfa walked as though he were alone, his gaze fixed ahead, his expression betraying nothing.

"The deputy head of the Vermilion Bird Sect," someone murmured. "And that formation prodigy. They answer to Celestial Venerable Xuanfa now?"

"Did you see their buttocks?" another voice whispered. "Those marks... they've been severely punished."

"It's a show of power. He's making an example of them."

Lin Qiaoxin heard every word. She let the whispers wash over her, feeling a strange pride in being so openly owned. Her master's power was absolute, and she was part of that power now. Even crawling on hands and knees, even with her intestines burning, she was where she belonged.

The terrace rose before them, a raised stone platform at the center of the city square, used for public announcements and executions. Today, it would serve a different purpose. Xuanfa led them to the base of the steps and stopped, turning to survey the crowd that had gathered.

Behind him, Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que knelt, their breasts pressing against their thighs, their bruised buttocks raised just slightly, waiting for his next command.

And then a new disturbance rippled through the crowd.

Shen Mengyue was coming.

She crawled from a side street, her disciple Yu Xue walking behind her, holding a dog leash that connected to a heavy leather collar around Shen Mengyue's neck. The head of the Immortal Gorge Sect moved on hands and knees, her waist-length black hair dragging through the dust, her naked body fully exposed to the hundreds of eyes that turned to watch her.

Shen Mengyue's fair skin was flushed with the deepest shame. Her face was set in rigid composure, but inside, her soul was shattering. She had known this humiliation was coming—Xuanfa had sent Yu Xue to retrieve her with explicit instructions—but knowing and experiencing were two different torments.

She could feel their gazes. Cultivators she had once commanded respect from, disciples of sects she had allied with, merchants she had purchased supplies from—they all stared at her naked body, at the collar around her neck, at the leash that led not to a pet but to her own disciple.

"Martial Aunt Shen," someone breathed, and the voice carried pity.

The pity was worse than the mockery.

Shen Mengyue's hands scraped against the stone pavement as she crawled. Each movement drew attention to her swaying breasts, to the curve of her waist, to the full roundness of her buttocks, which bore fresh red marks from Xuanfa's earlier discipline. She had been beaten before the journey, spanked until she could barely sit, and then forced to crawl through the city streets.

A child pointed at her. "Mother, why is that lady crawling like a dog?"

The mother snatched the child's hand down. "Don't look, sweetheart. Don't look."

But everyone looked. Cultivators in the Nascent Soul realm—one of the highest in the world—crawling in the dust of a mortal city. The head of a major sect reduced to a spectacle.

Shen Mengyue's mind churned with thoughts she could not voice. *I am Shen Mengyue. I have led the Immortal Gorge Sect for two hundred years. I have slain demon beasts, guided disciples, defended our lands. And now I crawl through Wuling City, naked, collared, led by my own student.*

She remembered the weight of her sword, the hum of her spiritual energy, the respect in the eyes of her peers. All of it stripped away, layer by layer, starting from that terrible day in Xuanfa's cave, when her robes had been torn from her body and his hand had first descended on her bare backside.

The memory should have fueled her hatred. Instead, it only deepened her shame.

Because she had felt something then. A tremor of something far more dangerous than pain.

*Stop,* she commanded herself. *Do not think of that. Think only of the stone beneath your knees, of the dust on your skin, of the eyes that watch you. Survive this moment, and then the next.*

But the moments stretched into eternity. She passed cultivators from the Azure Cloud Sect, men she had once trained alongside. She saw disciples from the Jade Bamboo Academy, young women who had looked up to her as a role model. She saw Li Que, the deputy head of the Vermilion Bird Sect, kneeling obediently beside Lin Qiaoxin, and she felt a stab of something between betrayal and kinship.

*They too have been broken,* she thought. *But they chose it. I was... I was...*

Taken. Conquered. Punished. Stripped of everything she had built.

Yu Xue's voice came from behind, soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry, Martial Aunt. The Celestial Venerable's orders were clear."

Shen Mengyue did not respond. She could not. Her voice would crack if she tried, and she would not give the crowd the satisfaction of hearing her weep.

She reached the base of the terrace and crawled up the steps, her knees scraping against the rough stone, her naked body rising and falling with each laborious movement. The collar chafed her neck. The leash trailed behind her like a snake.

At the top of the terrace, she knelt beside Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que, positioning herself as she had been instructed. Her backside rested on her heels, her hands on her thighs, her head bowed.

Xuanfa stood before them, surveying the crowd that had gathered below. He let the silence stretch, let the tension build, let every eye in Wuling City focus on the three women kneeling naked on the platform.

"Today," he said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the square, "you will witness discipline."

He turned to face the three women. "Lin Qiaoxin. Li Que. Shen Mengyue. You have each submitted to me. You have each sworn obedience. And you have each been found wanting in some measure, requiring correction."

Lin Qiaoxin's heart swelled at the words. She had not been found wanting—not truly. But she understood the public necessity of this display. Her master was demonstrating his absolute authority over Nascent Soul cultivators. She was honored to be the instrument of that demonstration.

Li Que's muscles tensed, but not from fear. She had conquered her pride days ago. Now she only felt anticipation. Whatever punishment came, she would bear it with dignity. She would prove herself worthy of Xuanfa's ownership.

Shen Mengyue felt her stomach drop. *He will spank us here,* she realized. *In front of everyone. As he did in his cave, but now... the entire city watches.*

Xuanfa raised his hand, and three wooden boards materialized from thin air. They floated before him, each one gleaming with spiritual energy, etched with runes that pulsed with power. Heavenly Way Wooden Boards, crafted from the wood of the celestial plane itself, imbued with disciplinary magic that could break the flesh of even Nascent Soul cultivators.

"Assume the position," Xuanfa commanded.

Lin Qiaoxin moved first, her body flowing into the familiar posture without hesitation. She knelt forward, pressing her chest to her thighs, and raised her hips, presenting her bruised buttocks to the sky. The movement caused a fresh wave of fire from the ginger juice in her bowels, and she gasped quietly, her toes curling.

Li Que followed, her athletic body bending forward, her full round buttocks lifting into position. The ginger juice shifted inside her, spiking through her intestines like molten glass, and she gripped her thighs to keep from crying out.

Shen Mengyue hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then she too lowered her chest, raising her hips, presenting the full curve of her buttocks to the crowd below. She could feel thousands of eyes on her most private flesh—on the cleft between her cheeks, on the twin mounds that Xuanfa had already marked with his hand. Her face burned with a shame so complete it felt like physical heat.

Xuanfa smiled. It was a cold thing, a tightening of lips that held no warmth.

"Begin," he said.

The three Heavenly Way Wooden Boards rose and struck.

The sound cracked across the square like thunder. Lin Qiaoxin's body jolted forward as the board connected with her left buttock, the rune-etched wood leaving a blazing line of pain across her flesh. Before she could recover, the board struck again, and again, and again—each impact falling in perfect rhythm, painting her skin in shades of red and purple.

Lin Qiaoxin bit her lip and welcomed the pain. The board rose and fell, each strike sending shockwaves through her body that made the ginger juice churn more violently in her intestines. The dual torments—external and internal—merged into a single overwhelming sensation that threatened to consume her. But she focused on her master's presence, on the honor of being disciplined by his hand, and she bore it with a smile hidden against her thigh.

Li Que's board came down with equal force, and she grunted with each impact. The runes on the wood flared brightly, and she felt the damage accumulate—deeper than normal spanking, designed to break down the flesh to the point of true injury. Cultivators

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The morning sun cast long shadows across Wuling City's main square. For the past week, the three suspended figures had become a fixture of the landscape—a constant reminder of the Celestial Venerable's absolute authority. Curious onlookers still gathered at dawn and dusk, their whispers a constant backdrop to the three women's suffering.

Shen Mengyue's body had long passed the point of numbness. The iron hook pierced through her anus, suspending her naked form for all to see. Every shift of the wind sent fresh agony radiating through her core. But the physical pain paled compared to what she endured in her mind. Her disciples had seen her spanked bare-bottomed. Now, the entire city watched her like a spectacle in a brothel. She was the head of the Immortal Gorge Sect, a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator who commanded respect across half the continent. And here she hung, exposed and degraded for the amusement of strangers.

To her left, Lin Qiaoxin hummed a cheerful tune despite her predicament. The red-haired girl had long accepted her fate. Being Xuanfa's female slave came with privileges—protection, resources, and power. A week of discomfort was a small price to pay. She even managed to smile at a young boy who pointed at her from the crowd.

To Shen Mengyue's right, Li Que hung in stoic silence. Her athletic body bore the ordeal better than the others, and her pride had been broken in that duel long before the hooks were placed. She was a woman who only obeyed the strong, and Xuanfa was unquestionably the strongest she had ever met. This punishment was merely proof of his superiority.

The sun climbed higher. The seventh day reached its zenith. And then, without warning, the hooks withdrew from their flesh with a sickening wet sound. The three women fell to the stone ground, their bodies too weak to stand after a week of suspension. They lay there, gasping, their naked forms sprawled across the cold stone.

A black-robed figure stepped into their field of vision. Xuanfa stood before them, his face an unreadable mask of cold beauty. His eyes swept over them with no more emotion than one might show when inspecting livestock.

"Shen Mengyue," he said, his voice flat and commanding. "The week has passed. I now give you a choice. Enter the Mysterious Heaven Realm of your own will. Become my female slave. You have seen what Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que have gained from their service. You could have the same."

Shen Mengyue pushed herself up on trembling arms. Her hair hung in tangled strands around her face, and her bare breasts pressed against the cold stone. She looked up at him with eyes full of fear and defiance.

"Venerable Xuanfa, I... I accept that I offended you. I have endured your spanking, your humiliation. But I am the head of the Immortal Gorge Sect. I cannot become anyone's slave. Please, have mercy. Let me return to my sect. I swear I will never oppose you again."

Xuanfa's expression did not change. He let out a soft snort. "Stubborn."

He made a gesture, and Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que scrambled to their feet despite their exhaustion. They knew the drill. The two women approached Shen Mengyue, who still lay on the ground, her eyes widening with dread.

"What are you doing?" Shen Mengyue demanded. "Stay back!"

But Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que each took one of her arms and pulled her into position. Even at mid-stage Nascent Soul, Shen Mengyue was too weakened from her ordeal to resist properly. They forced her onto her hands and knees, her buttocks raised high in the air. The week of suspension had left her anus sore and slightly gaped.

Li Que held Shen Mengyue's left buttock, spreading the flesh. Lin Qiaoxin took the right. Between them, they pulled Shen Mengyue's anus open, exposing the raw pink interior.

"No! What are you doing? Stop!" Shen Mengyue screamed, trying to twist away.

An invisible force pressed down on her back, forcing her into the familiar kneeling-with-buttocks-raised position. Xuanfa's finger had moved, unseen, binding her in place with his cultivation. Shen Mengyue could only tremble as Lin Qiaoxin produced a small ceramic jar.

"Ginger juice," Lin Qiaoxin said cheerfully. "It's going to burn like fire. But that's the point, isn't it?"

She upended the jar. Thick, golden liquid poured out, streaming directly into Shen Mengyue's exposed anus. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. It felt like molten lava being poured into her intestines, burning and searing from the inside. Shen Mengyue let out a shriek that echoed across the square. She bucked and thrashed against the invisible restraint, her legs kicking wildly, her fingers scrabbling at the stone.

"Please! Stop! It burns! It burns so much!"

But Lin Qiaoxin just kept pouring until the jar was empty. Li Que released her hold, and the ginger juice sealed itself inside Shen Mengyue's body. The burning intensified, spreading through her bowels, making her entire abdomen feel like it was on fire. She sobbed and writhed, her pride forgotten in the face of such excruciating pain.

Xuanfa snapped his fingers. Two wooden boards appeared in the air, their surfaces carved with intricate runes. The Heavenly Way Wooden Boards. They floated down into Lin Qiaoxin's and Li Que's hands.

"Fifty strikes each," Xuanfa ordered. "For each strike, Shen Mengyue will say, 'Thank you, Celestial Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking me.' If she fails to speak, pour more ginger juice."

Lin Qiaoxin's grin was almost predatory. She loved being on the giving end of punishment. She stepped behind Shen Mengyue and raised the board high.

"You know the drill, Sect Head. Let's make this count."

The board came down.

*SMACK!*

The impact was thunderous. Shen Mengyue's entire body jerked forward, her buttock jiggling from the force. A red mark bloomed across her pale flesh.

"Say it," Lin Qiaoxin prompted.

Shen Mengyue gritted her teeth. She would not speak. She would not give them the satisfaction.

Li Que swung her board.

*SMACK!*

The other cheek received an identical blow. Shen Mengyue's scream was cut off by a sob. The ginger juice burned inside her, and the boards burned outside. She was trapped in a ring of fire.

"Say it," Li Que said, her voice cold.

"...No."

Xuanfa's voice came from behind them. "More ginger juice."

Li Que produced a second jar and poured another stream of the burning liquid into Shen Mengyue's anus. The fresh surge of pain was unbearable. Shen Mengyue's body convulsed, her vision going white. She could taste blood where she had bitten her tongue.

The boards kept falling.

*SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!*

Over and over, alternating between Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que. Each strike was perfectly aimed, landing on the fullest part of her buttocks, spreading the sting across the entire surface. Her bottom quickly became a patchwork of red and purple welts.

"Thank you, Celestial Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking me," Shen Mengyue finally gasped out after the tenth strike, her voice broken.

"Louder," Xuanfa commanded.

"Thank you, Celestial Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking me!" she screamed as another board landed.

The rhythm continued. Twenty strikes. Thirty. Forty. By the fiftieth, Shen Mengyue was barely coherent, her words tumbling out in a stream of groveling gratitude between sobs. The ginger juice had reached every corner of her intestines, and each board strike seemed to jolt the burning liquid deeper.

The boards stopped. Shen Mengyue hung her head, tears and snot streaming down her face. Her buttocks were a ruined mess of purple and black, swollen to twice their normal size.

Xuanfa walked around to face her. He crouched down, his cold eyes meeting her tear-filled ones.

"I will ask once more. Enter the Mysterious Heaven Realm. Become my female slave. I will protect the Immortal Gorge Sect and harm no more of your disciples. Your service will ensure their safety and prosperity. Refuse, and I will pour ten more jars of ginger juice and double the strikes."

Shen Mengyue's mind was a fog of pain and humiliation. She thought of her sect, of the young disciples who looked up to her, of the legacy she had built over centuries. If Xuanfa turned his wrath on them...

"I... I accept," she whispered. "I will become your female slave. Just... protect my sect. Protect the Immortal Gorge Sect."

Xuanfa nodded once. He raised his hand, and the world twisted around them. The stone square of Wuling City dissolved into mist, reforming into the ethereal landscape of the Mysterious Heaven Realm. Golden clouds stretched to infinity. A jade palace floated in the distance.

They stood on a smooth obsidian platform, surrounded by pillars of crystal. The air hummed with ambient spiritual energy. Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que immediately knelt, their heads bowed.

Shen Mengyue felt something wrap around her neck. She looked down and saw a black leather collar materializing, snug against her throat. Identical to Lin Qiaoxin's and Li Que's. The slave collar of Xuanfa's harem.

"You know the rules," Xuanfa said. "You have seen them enforced. The collar will constrict if you disobey. It will loosen when you obey fully. Now, you will receive your formal punishment. Two hundred strikes of the Heavenly Way Wooden Board."

Shen Mengyue's heart sank. Two hundred. Even with her cultivation, even with her body weakened from the week's ordeal, it would be a nightmare.

But she had accepted. She was a female slave now. The rules were clear.

She knelt on the obsidian floor, pressing her forehead to the ground. Then she raised her buttocks high, presenting the ruined flesh to her master. Her swollen, purple bottom quivered in the air.

"I am ready, Master," she said, her voice hoarse.

Xuanfa did not hand the board to Lin Qiaoxin or Li Que this time. He took it himself.

He stepped behind her. The board weighed heavy in his hand. He would not hold back. That was not his way.

The first strike landed like a clap of thunder.

*SMACK!*

The sound echoed across the Mysterious Heaven Realm, bouncing off the crystal pillars. Shen Mengyue's body lurched forward, but she held her position. A fresh welt bloomed across her left cheek, layered over the bruises from before. The pain was exquisite, sharp and deep, radiating through her flesh and into her very bones.

"One," Xuanfa counted.

*SMACK!*

"Two."

*SMACK!*

"Three."

Each strike was perfectly placed. Each one landed on a different section of her buttocks, ensuring even coverage. Xuanfa's arm rose and fell with mechanical precision, his face betraying no emotion beyond slight satisfaction. He was enjoying this.

By the fiftieth strike, Shen Mengyue's entire bottom was a single solid mass of purple and black. The skin had broken in several places, tiny droplets of blood beading on the surface. She sobbed with each impact, but she did not try to escape. The collar around her neck pulsed with a gentle warmth, reminding her of her place.

"Seventy-one."

*SMACK!*

"Seventy-two."

*SMACK!*

The rhythm was hypnotic. Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que watched from their kneeling positions, their own bodies remembering similar punishments. They felt no sympathy. This was the way of the Mysterious Heaven Realm. Punishment was purification. Pain was transformation.

"One hundred."

*SMACK!*

Shen Mengyue's lower body had gone numb and then returned to pain, a cycle that repeated with each strike. She had lost count of the number of times she had screamed, sobbed, or simply gone silent. Her mind drifted, focusing only on the pain and the need to hold her position.

"One hundred thirty-two."

*SMACK!*

The board cracked. Xuanfa tossed it aside and summoned another, identical. He did not pause in his rhythm.

"One hundred fifty."

*SMACK!*

"One hundred seventy."

*SMACK!*

Shen Mengyue was crying openly now, her tears splattering on the obsidian floor. She had never experienced anything like this. Even the week on the anal hooks had not broken her spirit this thoroughly. But there was a strange clarity in the pain, a cleansin

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One hundred years had passed in the Mysterious Heaven Realm, and the change was more than a matter of time. The once empty, silent halls of Xuanfa's domain now held a different kind of presence. In a wide, polished stone chamber lit by floating spirit lamps, a row of plump, white buttocks was raised high into the air. Thirty-seven female cultivators knelt side by side, their faces pressed to the cold floor, their hands planted before them, their hips tilted upward in perfect submission. Behind each of them, two Heavenly Way Wooden Boards floated in the air, their surfaces gleaming with a dark, polished sheen. The boards struck in relentless alternation, sending sharp cracks echoing through the hall as they landed on those pale, exposed bottoms.

The women who received this punishment were not ordinary cultivators. Among them were sect leaders from the Jade Frost Sect, the Azure Peak Sect, and the Golden Lotus Sect. There were elders from the Vermilion Bird Sect and the White Tiger Sect, genius rogue cultivators who had once dominated the wilderness, and the pampered daughters of noble families who had never known a day of hardship. All of them had been lofty, untouchable existences. Now they knelt here, naked, their buttocks reddening and purpling under the unceasing blows of the Heavenly Way Wooden Boards. Their sobs and cries filled the air, a symphony of humiliation and pain. Some had already broken, weeping openly and begging to become Xuanfa's female slaves. Others still held a thread of pride, gritting their teeth, but the boards were patient. They would break eventually.

Behind this row of raised bottoms, three naked, beautiful figures stood like statues of living jade. Their presence commanded the room, and the kneeling women knew better than to slacken their posture. The three were the instructors, the first and most favored of Xuanfa's female slaves. They moved slowly among the row of bottoms, their voices calm but firm.

"Higher," said the first, her voice carrying a playful lilt even in command. "You there, third from the left. Raise your hips another inch. If the master sees you slacking, he will double your strokes."

The second figure, taller and more athletic, her body lean with hard-won muscle, pointed at a trembling woman near the center. "Relax your muscles. If you clench, the boards will bruise deeper. You will learn to accept the pain, or you will learn to suffer more."

The third figure, the most serene of the three, her black hair falling like a silk curtain past her waist, spoke softly. "Breathe. Let the rhythm of the boards guide your breath. Do not fight it. Fighting only prolongs the lesson."

These three women were the instructors. And they were, in order, Xin Nu Lin Qiaoxin, Que Nu Li Que, and Yue Nu Shen Mengyue.

Lin Qiaoxin still wore her black hair in twin ponytails, though the ribbons were gone now, replaced by nothing but her own bare skin. Her body was youthful and slender, her breasts small but perfectly formed, her waist narrow, her hips round and smooth. But her buttocks, raised so often for punishment, bore the marks of long discipline. They were not the pale white of untouched skin. Instead, a tapestry of purple and red bruising covered them, the stripes of countless Heavenly Way Wooden Board strikes overlapping in a pattern of deep, mottled color. The skin was slightly swollen, the curve of each cheek pronounced by the accumulated punishment. Yet she stood with a lightness in her step, a bounce in her movements, as if the pain had become a familiar companion she no longer feared.

Li Que stood beside her, a head taller, her red hair tied in a high ponytail that fell down her back. Her body was the picture of athletic grace, every muscle defined but not bulky, her shoulders broad, her legs long and powerful. Her breasts were firm and full, her stomach flat and ridged with the faintest lines of abdominal muscle. And her buttocks, like Lin Qiaoxin's, were a map of suffering. The bruises ran from the tops of her hips down to the curve where her thighs began, a deep purple that darkened to black in the center of each cheek. The skin was hot to the touch, swollen and tender, but she stood with her back straight, her chin high. Her pride had been bent but never broken, and she wore her marks like a warrior wears scars.

Shen Mengyue was the most striking of the three. Her waist-length black hair hung loose, framing a face that held both the pure innocence of a young woman and the deep, knowing allure of a mature woman. Her skin was fair, almost luminous in the spirit light, and her body was a perfect balance of soft curves and slender lines. Her breasts were full and heavy, her waist narrow, her hips wide and womanly. And her buttocks, oh, her buttocks told the story of a hundred years of obedient punishment. The bruises were the darkest of all, a deep, wine-red purple that covered every inch of her cheeks, from the base of her spine to the tops of her thighs. The skin was swollen, each cheek standing proud and round, marked with the distinct stripes of the Heavenly Way Wooden Boards. Even the backs of her thighs bore faint traces of punishment, and the very tops of her buttocks, near the small of her back, were a tangled web of purple and black. She wore her submission openly, but her eyes held a quiet dignity, a gentle strength that had survived a century of discipline and emerged refined.

The three women moved among the kneeling row, correcting postures, murmuring encouragement, and occasionally delivering a sharp slap to a slack bottom to remind the recipient of the lesson. The sounds of the boards striking flesh filled the hall, a rhythmic crack-crack-crack that had become as natural as breathing.

Then, without warning, the air changed. The temperature dropped. The spirit lamps flickered. And a presence entered the hall, vast and undeniable.

Lin Qiaoxin felt it first, her playful demeanor vanishing in an instant. Li Que's proud stance softened into something else. Shen Mengyue's serene expression deepened into serene acceptance.

They turned as one, their eyes falling on the figure that had materialized at the far end of the hall.

Xuanfa stood there, his black training clothes immaculate, his face cold and handsome, his eyes like frozen lakes. He did not move. He did not speak. He simply stood, and the room bent to his will.

Without a word, without a single command, the three women moved. They had done this so many times over a hundred years that the motion was instinctive, a reflex carved into their very souls.

Lin Qiaoxin lowered her head. She dropped to her knees, her hands placed flat on the floor before her, her forehead touching her hands. She arched her back, lifting her bruised, purple-red buttocks high into the air, presenting them fully to her master.

Li Que followed, her movements precise and practiced. She knelt, placed her head on her hands, and raised her swollen bottom high, the muscles of her thighs and back taut with the effort of perfect submission.

Shen Mengyue was last, but no less swift. She knelt, her black hair pooling on the floor around her hands, her head bowed, her hips tilted upward, her bruised buttocks raised high and proud. The three of them formed a perfect line of submission, their bodies offered, their heads lowered, their bottoms presented.

Their voices rose in unison, a chorus of obedience. "Master, we are instructing our new sisters. Does the master wish to watch Xin Nu's punishment? Does the master wish to watch Que Nu's punishment? Does the master wish to watch Yue Nu's punishment? Rest assured, we will do our best to endure and not ruin the master's enjoyment."

Xuanfa walked forward slowly, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The kneeling row of new female slaves dared not move, dared not breathe too loudly, as he passed them. He stopped before the three women, his eyes running over their raised bottoms with a cold, appraising gaze.

"Very well," he said, his voice low and flat. "Proceed."

There was no hesitation. In perfect synchrony, the three women reached behind them with both hands. Their fingers spread their own anuses open, the tender pink flesh exposed to the air. Above each of them, a syringe materialized, filled with a clear, pungent liquid. Ginger juice.

The syringes descended. The nozzles pressed against the opened openings, and the liquid was injected, filling the intestines with a burning, fiery sensation. Lin Qiaoxin's breath hitched. Li Que's jaw clenched. Shen Mengyue closed her eyes, her face a mask of serene endurance. The ginger juice settled inside them, a liquid fire waiting to escape.

Then the boards appeared.

Above each woman, six Heavenly Way Wooden Boards materialized. Three would strike from the left, three from the right. The first strike landed before the women had fully recovered from the injection. The crack was like thunder, a sound that shook the very air. Lin Qiaoxin's body jerked, and a sharp cry escaped her lips, a sound that was equal parts agony and something else, something that bordered on pleasure. The second strike fell a heartbeat later, and her cry turned into a moan. The third, a full-throated scream.

Li Que endured the first three strikes in silence, her body trembling, her muscles straining. But the fourth strike landed on a spot already bruised to blackness, and she let out a roar, a curse that dissolved into a pained gasp. The boards did not relent. They struck in a brutal, rhythmic cadence, left-right-left-right, each blow harder than the last. Her buttocks bounced and jiggled under the assault, the purple and red skin turning black in patches, the flesh swelling with each impact. She bit her lip until it bled, but the sounds still escaped her, guttural cries and broken moans.

Shen Mengyue's punishment was the most controlled. She screamed with every strike, but the screams were melodic, almost musical. She had learned, over a hundred years, to turn pain into something else, something her master enjoyed. Her body swayed with each blow, her hips twisting slightly to present her buttocks at the perfect angle, to accept the full force of the Heavenly Way Wooden Boards. Her anus clenched around the ginger juice, fighting the burning, and with every clench, the fire inside her grew hotter. Her screams became wails, but she did not stop presenting, did not stop raising her bottom higher.

The boards struck. One hundred strokes. Two hundred. The sound of wood on flesh was a constant drumbeat, a rhythm of punishment. The three women's buttocks had transformed. They were no longer merely bruised. They were swollen, purple mountains of flesh, the skin stretched tight and hot, the stripes of the boards visible as ridges of darker color. The ginger juice burned in their intestines, and every clench of their anuses sent a fresh wave of fire through their bodies.

At two hundred and fifty strokes, Lin Qiaoxin's control began to waver. Her body convulsed, her legs trembling, her hands sliding forward on the floor. But she forced herself back into position, raised her bottom higher, and screamed, "Again, master! Xin Nu can take more!"

Li Que's breath came in ragged gasps. Her athletic frame shook with the effort of staying still, of not collapsing, of not letting the ginger juice escape. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to surrender, but her pride, even broken, even reshaped, refused to let her fail. She gritted her teeth and whispered, "Again."

Shen Mengyue's tears had begun to fall, silent streams tracing paths down her cheeks. Her screams had softened into sobs, but still she raised her bottom, still she spread her anus, still she took the blows. She had promised to endure, and she would not break that promise.

Finally, three hundred strokes. The last strike landed, and the boards floated still.

The three women remained in position, their bodies shaking, their breaths ragged, their buttocks a symphony of purple and black and

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The Spanking Phoenix Sect rose from the nothingness of the Mysterious Heaven Realm like a cruel flower blooming on a barren cliff. Xuanfa had chosen a spirit-rich mountain peak, its veins pulsing with abundant qi, and established his new domain. The sect's name was a declaration, a promise, and a threat all in one. Female cultivators who sought advancement flocked to its gates, knowing full well the price of admission.

The sect hall stood at the peak, a grand structure of black jade and white stone, its pillars carved with intricate patterns of phoenixes rising from flames. Below, the training grounds sprawled across terraced levels, filled with disciples who moved through their cultivation exercises with practiced precision. But there was a peculiar detail that set this sect apart from all others: every single disciple was naked.

Their bodies gleamed under the sun, unadorned by so much as a scrap of cloth. They cultivated in the open, their movements unhindered, their flesh exposed to the elements and the eyes of all who passed. The shame of such exposure had long since been ground into acceptance, replaced by the burning desire for power. These women had chosen this path, knowing that the Spanking Phoenix Sect was little more than a preparatory pool for Xuanfa to select his female slaves.

The three highest positions in the sect were occupied by his most devoted. Lin Qiaoxin, the Formation Grand Elder, taught the intricate arts of array construction with boundless enthusiasm. Li Que, the Combat Grand Elder, drilled the disciples in martial techniques with fierce precision. And Shen Mengyue, the Internal Affairs Grand Elder, managed the endless stream of sect affairs with cold efficiency. They were the pillars upon which the sect rested, and their status was visible to all.

The distinction between disciples and female slave elders was stark and unmistakable. Disciples were merely naked, their bodies unmarked by anything save the occasional bruise from training. But the female slave elders were completely naked, their necks adorned with slave collars that gleamed with dark enchantment. When they moved, they crawled like dogs, their hands and knees pressing against the stone floors of the sect. And their bottoms—their bottoms were always a vivid, throbbing purple-red, swollen from countless punishments.

Only those who had become Xuanfa's female slaves could ascend to the rank of elder. It was a position of honor and humiliation intertwined, a constant reminder of their submission.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the training grounds as Xuanfa emerged from the sect hall. He wore his customary black training clothes, his cold handsomeness a stark contrast to the naked bodies that surrounded him. In his hands, he held three leashes, each connected to a slave collar around the neck of one of his female slaves. Lin Qiaoxin crawled on his left, her playful spirit undimmed despite her position. Li Que crawled on his right, her red hair falling forward as she moved with athletic grace. And Shen Mengyue crawled behind him, her waist-length black hair trailing across the ground.

Behind them, a fourth woman was being dragged along by a rope tied around her wrists. Murong Ying, the proud head of the Heaven Phoenix Sect, had been stripped naked and forced to her knees. Her body was bound in spiritual ropes that pulsed with restraining energy, and her face was a mask of fury and humiliation.

Xuanfa stopped at the entrance of the sect hall, where a raised platform overlooked the gathered disciples below. The training grounds fell silent as every naked disciple turned to watch. The air crackled with anticipation.

"Today," Xuanfa announced, his voice carrying across the sect like a cold wind, "we reward merit."

He turned to face his three crawling female slaves. "Xin Nu has shown great skill in teaching formations to our disciples. Her arrays have strengthened our defenses and improved the cultivation speed of all who learn from her. For this, she earns reward."

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes lit up with barely contained glee. She loved rewards. Every single time.

"Yue Nu has managed the affairs of the sect with unparalleled efficiency. Our stores are full, our disciples are fed, and our resources are optimized. For this, she earns reward."

Shen Mengyue's expression remained stoic, but a faint flush crept across her cheeks.

"Que Nu has defeated a female cultivator who came to provoke our sect. She has proven the strength of the Spanking Phoenix Sect and humiliated our enemies. For this, she earns reward."

Li Que's lips curved into a proud smile, her eyes fixed on her master with unwavering devotion.

Xuanfa gestured, and the three female slaves crawled forward, positioning themselves in the center of the platform. They knelt in perfect synchronization, their bodies angled forward until their chests pressed against the cool stone. Their arms extended forward, palms flat on the ground, and their legs spread slightly apart. And then they raised their buttocks high, presenting their swollen, purple-red bottoms to the watching crowd.

The disciples below gasped. Some covered their mouths in shock. Others watched with wide eyes, a mixture of horror and fascination written across their faces.

"Kneel beside them," Xuanfa commanded, turning to Murong Ying.

The Heaven Phoenix Sect head struggled against her bonds, her proud spirit refusing to comply. "You think I will debase myself like these sluts? I am the head of—"

The spiritual ropes tightened, forcing her body forward. She tried to resist, but the pressure was relentless. Her knees hit the stone with a sharp crack, and she cried out in pain. Before she could rise, the ropes shifted, forcing her into the same posture as the other three—body angled forward, chest pressed to the ground, arms extended, legs spread, bottom raised.

"No!" she screamed, struggling against the invisible restraints. "You cannot do this to me! My sect will—"

"Your sect will do nothing," Xuanfa said flatly. "You came here to challenge my authority. You lost to Que Nu. Now you will learn what it means to face the Spanking Phoenix Sect."

He raised his hand, and four Heavenly Way Wooden Boards materialized in the air above the platform. They were massive things, each one as long as a woman's arm and as wide as a hand. They pulsed with dark energy, their surfaces gleaming with traces of blood from countless punishments before.

"The first strike," Xuanfa announced, "for Xin Nu's merit in formations."

The first board descended.

*CRACK*

The sound echoed across the training grounds, sharp and merciless. Lin Qiaoxin's body jolted forward, her hands clenching against the stone. A cry escaped her lips, but there was something almost joyful in the sound. Her bottom, already purple-red, bloomed with a fresh stripe of darker bruising.

"Ahh~!" she gasped, her voice carrying a singsong quality. "Master, that one really woke me up! My disciples, did you see that? A clean strike! That's what good posture gets you!"

The disciples below stared in stunned silence. Their normally cheerful and mischievous formation elder was being spanked in front of them, and she was... joking about it?

"The second strike," Xuanfa continued, "for Yue Nu's merit in managing the sect."

*CRACK*

Shen Mengyue's body trembled, but she maintained her position perfectly. Her bottom absorbed the impact, the pain radiating through her body in waves. A low moan escaped her lips, but she did not cry out. Instead, she turned her head slightly to look at the disciples below.

"Disciples," she said, her voice strained but steady, "cultivate diligently. One day, you too may earn such a reward. The master's punishment is a gift. It strengthens the spirit and tempers the body."

The words seemed surreal to the watching disciples. Their cold, composed Internal Affairs Grand Elder was encouraging them to strive for public spanking? What kind of sect was this?

"The third strike," Xuanfa said, "for Que Nu's merit in defeating a challenger."

*CRACK*

Li Que's athletic body absorbed the blow with barely a flinch. Her muscles clenched, and a sharp hiss escaped through her teeth. But her eyes burned with fierce pride. She had earned this. She had earned every single strike.

"That board hits harder than your sword, Murong Ying," she called out, her voice dripping with mockery. "At least it knows how to make contact."

Murong Ying's face turned red with fury. "You insolent—"

*CRACK*

The fourth strike landed on her unprotected bottom before she could finish. The board had moved of its own accord, delivering the punishment that was meant for all four of them. Murong Ying's body convulsed, and a shriek tore from her throat.

"You dare!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "I am the head of the Heaven Phoenix Sect! I will not be treated like this!"

"Fifth strike," Xuanfa said calmly, ignoring her protests.

*CRACK*

Murong Ying's body collapsed forward, but the spiritual ropes held her in position. Her bottom was now a vivid red, the skin already beginning to swell. She sobbed, her proud spirit cracking under the relentless assault.

"This is nothing," she gasped between sobs. "I have endured worse in battle. You think this humiliation can break me?"

"Sixth strike."

*CRACK*

Her words dissolved into a wordless scream. Her body writhed, but the ropes held firm. The disciples below watched in horrified fascination as the proud sect head was reduced to a crying, begging mess.

"Seventh strike."

*CRACK*

"Please!" Murong Ying's voice broke. "Please, stop! I can't—I can't take any more!"

"Eighth strike."

*CRACK*

Her head fell forward, her sobs muffled by the stone. The fight had drained out of her, replaced by nothing but raw, throbbing pain.

Lin Qiaixin laughed, the sound light and airy despite the punishment. "See, disciples? That's what happens when you come to our sect looking for trouble. Our master's boards are very persuasive!"

"Xin Nu," Xuanfa said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, "you talk too much."

"Tenth strike for Xin Nu's excessive chatter."

*CRACK*

"Oof!" Lin Qiaixin's body jerked. "Master, I was just encouraging the disciples! That's part of my teaching!"

"Eleventh strike for backtalk."

*CRACK*

She yelped, but there was a grin on her face. "Fine, fine! I'll be good! But only because the boards are so convincing!"

The disciples below exchanged glances. Some were horrified. Some were fascinated. A few—a very few—felt a strange stirring in their chests. Their elders, who taught them every day with such authority and dedication, were now crying and screaming under the boards. Yet they never once tried to escape. They remained in position, their bottoms raised high, accepting every strike as if it were a gift.

Shen Mengyue's voice cut through the sounds of spanking. "Disciples, do not be afraid. What you see here is the path of cultivation. To submit to the master is to grow stronger. To accept punishment is to purify the spirit. Remember this."

*CRACK*

She gasped as another strike landed, but she continued. "I was once the head of the Immortal Gorge Sect. I was proud. I was powerful. And then I met the master. He showed me the truth—that only through submission can we truly ascend."

*CRACK*

Her body trembled, but her voice remained steady. "Cultivate well. Learn from us. And one day, you too may kneel before the master and receive his reward."

The words hung in the air, a strange sermon delivered through the rhythm of spanking.

Li Que laughed, the sound harsh and proud. "Don't listen to her, disciples. Listen to me. The strongest among you will earn your place. You'll earn your spankings and your collars. And then you'll crawl beside us as true cultivators!"

*CRACK*

"Que Nu is arrogant today," Xuanfa observed.

"Master, I'm always arrogant!" Li Que called back. "That's what makes me useful! Only the proud can be properly humbled!"

*CRACK*

She grunted but maint

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the training grounds of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. Xuanfa walked slowly along the main path, his black training clothes immaculate, his face as expressionless as carved jade. Behind him, three naked women crawled on all fours, their movements practiced and smooth, their heads bowed in perfect submission.

Lin Qiaoxin led the trio, her black double low ponytails bouncing with each crawl. Her youthful face held a playful grin as she glanced sideways at the disciples who had stopped their training to stare. "Hehe, master, the disciples are looking at Xin Nu," she said, her voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Li Que followed close behind, her red hair tied in a high ponytail that swayed with her movements. Her athletic body moved with the grace of a predator, though her posture remained humble. "Haven't they gotten used to it by now?" she muttered, her proud voice laced with a touch of irritation.

Shen Mengyue brought up the rear, her waist-length black hair cascading over her shoulders and brushing the ground. Despite her nakedness, she carried herself with an air of dignified calm. "Among them, some will perform well and become the master's female slaves in the future," she said softly, her eyes sweeping across the assembled disciples.

The disciples—hundreds of cultivators who had joined the Spanking Phoenix Sect—stood frozen, their eyes wide. They had seen this sight many times before, yet it never ceased to astonish them. These three women, who taught them cultivation techniques with strict precision every day, who corrected their stances with firm hands, who embodied the sect's principles of discipline and submission—they now crawled like obedient bitches behind their master, their bare buttocks swaying with each step, their faces showing no shame.

Xuanfa stopped at the center of the training ground, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned slightly to look at the three women behind him. "Do you still remember how you became my female slaves?" His voice was low, cold, carrying the weight of absolute authority.

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, her body wiggling as she spoke. "Xin Nu remembers. The master appeared directly before Xin Nu and forcefully stated that he wanted Xin Nu to be his female slave. Xin Nu was unwilling at the time and even tried to be clever. Then the master took off Xin Nu's skirt and spanked Xin Nu's pert bottom hard until Xin Nu cried. Under the master's coercion and bribery, Xin Nu became the master's female slave." Her voice held no resentment, only a cheerful acceptance of her fate.

Li Que lifted her head slightly, her eyes meeting the ground before her. "Que Nu remembers. Before, I led the Vermilion Bird Sect to cause trouble for the Supreme Purity Palace. Believing I was invincible at the same realm, I was defeated by Xin Mei, who was taught by the master. Xin Mei used formations to spank my bottom hard, and the master inserted a ginger strip into my anus. Finally, I was hung on an anal hook for public display. Not knowing my place, I wanted to challenge the master and was defeated in one move. Que Nu obediently became the master's female slave."

Lin Qiaoxin let out another giggle. "If Sister Que's bottom is itching, Xin Nu can use formations to help spank it anytime."

Li Que shot her a quick glare but said nothing.

Shen Mengyue spoke next, her voice steady and calm. "Yue Nu remembers. After being punished with Xin Mei and Que Mei at Wuling City, Yue Nu had the audacity to refuse the master's gracious offer to take her as a female slave. The master gave Yue Nu a ginger juice enema and had Xin Mei and Que Mei take turns spanking this ungrateful bottom with Heavenly Way Wooden Boards. Yue Nu cried and obediently became the master's female slave." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I was foolish then. Now I know better."

Xuanfa's lips curled into a faint smile, a rare expression that sent a shiver through the three women. "And now? How do you feel about being spanked as a female slave?"

Lin Qiaoxin giggled again, her voice bright and playful. "Although the master's Heavenly Way Wooden Boards hurt terribly on the bottom, Xin Nu's bottom now loves being spanked by the master. Xin Nu's bottom is bloomed open every day and is extremely happy." She wiggled her hips as if to emphasize her point.

Li Que's voice was firm, resolute. "Que Nu was defeated and taken as a female slave by the master. She should obediently accept all the master's humiliation and punishment. Que Nu's buttocks must be bloomed open every day as punishment."

Shen Mengyue spoke with calm dignity. "Yue Nu's refusal of the master's gracious offer to take her as a female slave was ungrateful. This fault must be repaid by Yue Nu's buttocks being bloomed open every day."

Xuanfa laughed, a cold, sharp sound that echoed across the training ground. "You three have good awareness. Today's punishment: each of you will receive two hundred direct strikes from Heavenly Way Wooden Boards."

In unison, Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue knelt down, their bodies lowering until their chests touched the ground, their buttocks raised high in the air. The disciples watched in silence, their training forgotten.

From his storage ring, Xuanfa produced three wooden boards, each a meter long and carved from the wood of the Heavenly Way Tree. The boards hummed with spiritual energy, their surfaces dark and polished. He handed one to each woman.

"Proceed," he commanded.

Lin Qiaoxin was the first to act. She gripped the board with both hands, swung it back, and brought it down on her own upturned bottom with a sharp *CRACK*. Her pale flesh quivered, a red mark blooming across the curve. She let out a soft gasp, then swung again. *CRACK*. Another mark. She did not stop. *CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.* The rhythm was steady, precise, each strike hitting the same area. Her bottom reddened, then swelled. She bit her lip, her eyes watering, but she did not cry out.

Li Que followed suit. She swung the board with practiced strength, the wood slapping against her toned buttocks with a loud *SMACK*. Her body jolted with each hit, but she kept her face impassive. *SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.* The circle of redness grew, deepened, until her entire bottom was a deep, angry crimson. She grunted with each strike, her muscles tensing and relaxing.

Shen Mengyue raised her board and brought it down on her own exposed flesh. *WHACK.* The sound was sharper, more resonant. Her pale skin turned pink, then red, then a dark, bruised purple. She held her posture perfectly, not flinching, each stroke deliberate and measured. *WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.* The disciples watched, their breaths held. They had seen punishment before, but never like this—three women spanking themselves with brutal efficiency, their faces showing no sign of rebellion.

After fifty strokes, Lin Qiaoxin's rhythm faltered. Her bottom was a mass of red welts, the skin stretched taut over swollen flesh. She let out a whimper, but she forced herself to continue. *CRACK.* The board connected with the most sensitive part of her sit-spots, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She did not stop.

Li Que's strokes grew harder. Her bottom was now a deep, dark purple, the flesh beginning to crack in places. She gritted her teeth, her hands white-knuckled on the board. *SMACK.* The sound echoed, and a thin trickle of blood ran down her thigh. She continued without pause.

Shen Mengyue's board rose and fell with mechanical precision. Her bottom had lost all color, turning a dark, mottled black. The skin was broken in several places, and the blood dripped down her legs, pooling on the ground. She did not cry, did not speak. She simply counted each stroke in her mind. *WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.*

By the hundredth stroke, the three women were trembling. Their bodies shook with the effort, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. But they continued. *CRACK. SMACK. WHACK.* The sounds mixed with the soft patter of blood dripping onto the stone.

At the hundred and fiftieth stroke, Lin Qiaoxin let out a choked sob. Her bottom was a ruin of flesh, the skin peeling in layers. She could barely lift the board, but she forced herself to complete each strike. *CRACK.* Another sob. *CRACK.* Her vision blurred.

Li Que's strokes had become erratic, her strength failing. But her pride would not let her stop. She swung the board with all her remaining force, each hit sending a shockwave through her body. *SMACK.* The wood bit into her torn flesh, and she let out a low groan.

Shen Mengyue was a statue of suffering. Her board rose and fell, rose and fell, each stroke bringing new agony. Her bottom was no longer recognizable as human flesh—it was a raw, bloody mess, the muscles visible through the torn skin. She did not stop.

When the two hundredth stroke landed, all three women collapsed forward, their boards clattering to the ground. Their bottoms were completely ruined, covered in deep welts, open wounds, and pools of blood. They lay there, panting, their bodies quivering with the aftershocks of pain.

Xuanfa surveyed them, his cold eyes showing no emotion. "Rise," he commanded.

They struggled to their knees, their legs barely supporting them. They knelt before him, heads bowed, blood dripping from their ravaged buttocks.

"In a while," Xuanfa said, his voice carrying across the silent training ground, "there will be a grand ceremony for the Spanking Phoenix Sect. The highlight will be five hundred spanking strikes for the three of you."

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue pressed their foreheads to the ground in perfect unison.

"Thank you, master," they said, their voices hoarse but sincere. "We are grateful for your punishment."

The disciples stood in stunned silence, watching the three women who had once been proud sect leaders now kneeling in submission, their bodies broken, their spirits humbled. The Spanking Phoenix Sect had many ceremonies ahead, and tonight's would be one to remember.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the sprawling grounds of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. What had begun as a handful of humiliated women had grown into a thousand disciples, all gathered in perfect formation on the training fields below the main hall.

Xuanfa stood atop the elevated platform, his black training clothes stark against the pale stone. His cold eyes surveyed the assembly with detached satisfaction. A thousand bodies, all female, all naked, standing at attention with their hands clasped behind their backs. Their breasts swayed gently in the morning breeze, but none dared to cover themselves. They had accepted their place.

He raised his hand, and the murmur of nine hundred and fifty voices died instantly.

"The grand ceremony begins," he announced, his voice carrying across the field without effort.

From the rear of the formation, movement stirred. The fifty female slave elders began their crawl, hands and knees pressing into the cold ground as they advanced toward the platform. Their bodies were marked with the evidence of their station—faint red lines across their buttocks, some still bearing the purple-black bruises of recent discipline. They moved in perfect synchronization, heads lowered, spines curved in submission.

They formed a semicircle around the base of the platform, fifty women kneeling in the dirt, their buttocks resting on their heels, backs straight, eyes fixed on the ground before them.

Then came the three.

Xuanfa descended the platform steps, three leather leashes held loosely in his right hand. The leashes trailed across the ground, each ending at a silver collar locked around a graceful neck.

Lin Qiaoxin crawled at the leftmost position, her red hair now hanging in disheveled twin tails that brushed the ground as she moved. Despite the humiliation of crawling naked before a thousand witnesses, a faint smile played at her lips. Her small, perfect breasts swung beneath her, and her buttocks, still bearing the memory of recent punishment, swayed with each deliberate motion.

Li Que took the center position, her athletic body moving with controlled power. Her red hair, tied in its characteristic high ponytail, had come loose during her crawl, strands falling across her proud face. Her jaw was set, but her eyes held no defiance—only submission. Her well-muscled thighs parted and closed as she crawled, the muscles of her back and shoulders rippling with each movement.

Shen Mengyue crawled at the right, her waist-length black hair pooling on the ground behind her. The former head of the Immortal Gorge Sect, a woman who had commanded hundreds of disciples, now moved on hands and knees like a common beast. Her mature body, neither young nor old but holding the perfection of a cultivator at her peak, swayed with an elegance that even crawling could not diminish. Her buttocks, full and round, rose and fell with each crawling step.

They reached the base of the platform and stopped. Xuanfa ascended the steps, the leashes growing taut as the three women followed, crawling up the stone stairs. Their bare knees scraped against the rough surface. None complained.

At the top of the platform, Xuanfa turned. He gave a slight tug on the leashes, and the three women crawled to their designated positions—Lin Qiaoxin to his left, Li Que to his right, and Shen Mengyue directly before him. They knelt, then lowered themselves further until their foreheads touched the stone.

The thousand disciples below watched in complete silence.

"The Spanking Phoenix Sect begins its rite," Xuanfa announced. "Let the worship commence."

Lin Qiaoxin rose first, turning to face the assembled disciples. Her playful demeanor had transformed into something approaching solemnity. She walked to the center of the platform where an altar had been prepared. On it rested three objects: wooden boards, each crafted from the legendary Heavenly Way Wood, their surfaces worn smooth from countless impacts.

"Other sects worship ancestors," Lin Qiaoxin said, her voice carrying across the field. "They worship divine artifacts, ancient beasts, or the spirits of their founders."

She picked up one of the boards, holding it high above her head.

"We worship these."

The disciples below remained silent.

Shen Mengyue rose and walked to stand beside Lin Qiaoxin. Her voice, when she spoke, carried the weight of her former authority.

"The Spanking Phoenix Sect was founded to remind female cultivators of their true place. We who were proud, who believed our cultivation realms made us untouchable, learned the truth through pain and humility."

She turned the board in her hands, examining it as though it were a sacred text.

"The Heavenly Way Wooden Board does not discriminate. It does not show favor. It delivers only what is deserved—correction and submission."

Li Que rose last, her voice rough with emotion. "We are called the Spanking Phoenix Sect because we rise from the ashes of our pride. Each spanking burns away arrogance. Each punishment tempers our obedience."

She struck the board against her palm, the sound sharp and final.

"We remind all female slaves of their duty. You are to accept all humiliation and punishment from the master. No matter how shameful, no matter how painful, you will bear it. You will crawl like dogs. You will not stand without the master's command."

Shen Mengyue added, "To greet the master, you will kneel and raise your scarred buttocks high. This is your greeting. This is your worship. This is your purpose."

The three women placed the boards back on the altar and knelt before them, kowtowing three times. The thousand disciples below followed suit, their naked bodies pressing flat against the ground.

Xuanfa observed in silence. His face revealed nothing, but the satisfaction within him was absolute.

Lin Qiaoxin rose and began her instruction. "Cultivation is not merely about gathering qi and breaking through realms. The body must be disciplined. The spirit must be broken and rebuilt."

She gestured, and a formation circle appeared beneath her feet. "When you are being punished, do not resist. Do not shield your buttocks with qi. Accept the pain. Let it flow through you. The more you accept, the faster your cultivation will advance."

Li Que stepped forward. "Endurance is the key to power. I have faced punishment that would make lesser cultivators weep for death. I did not cry out. I did not beg for mercy. Because I understood—each strike was a gift."

She turned, showing her scarred buttocks to the assembly. "These marks are not shame. They are badges of honor. They show that I have endured. I have grown stronger."

Shen Mengyue spoke last. "To make the master happier, we must learn how to receive punishment properly. Arch your back. Raise your buttocks higher. Do not close your legs. Let the master see your submission in every trembling muscle."

Lin Qiaoxin grinned, her playful nature breaking through. "And if you cry prettily, the master might stop sooner. But don't count on it."

The disciples murmured, some with fear, some with anticipation.

Xuanfa raised his hand again, and the murmuring ceased. "Distribute the pills."

Several female slave elders rose from their kneeling positions and walked to storage pavilions near the platform. They returned carrying trays laden with jade bottles.

"Each of you will receive one Foundation Establishment Pill," Xuanfa announced. "Those at higher realms will receive pills suited to your cultivation."

The distribution took nearly an hour. As each disciple received her pill, she knelt, kowtowed, and backed away.

Xuanfa continued, "Those who have distinguished themselves will receive additional rewards."

He gestured, and five of the female slave elders stepped forward. Each received a storage ring containing magical artifacts.

"These rings contain defensive formations, attack talismans, and cultivation aids that would take decades to accumulate on your own," Xuanfa said. "Serve well, and more will follow."

The five elders kowtowed deeply, their buttocks rising in gratitude.

Xuanfa's cold eyes swept across the crowd. "Finally, the new female slaves. Step forward."

From among the disciples, five women emerged. They had been carefully selected from those who had applied to become Xuanfa's personal female slaves. Each possessed exceptional talent. Each had demonstrated complete submission during the application process.

They walked to the base of the platform, their naked bodies trembling despite their cultivation.

Lin Qiaoxin descended the steps, carrying five silver collars. She approached the first woman, a Core Formation cultivator with blonde hair and terrified eyes.

"Don't be afraid," Lin Qiaoxin whispered, her voice oddly gentle. "It hurts, but you grow used to it."

She locked the collar around the woman's neck. The mechanism clicked shut with a sound that seemed to echo across the entire sect.

One by one, the five women received their collars. Some wept. Some remained stoic. All trembled.

"Kneel," Xuanfa commanded.

The five women dropped to their knees.

"Crawl to the platform and join the female slave elders."

They crawled, their hands and knees scraping against the stone, their collars clinking with each movement. They took their positions among the fifty elders, kneeling in the semicircle.

Xuanfa looked down at the congregation. "The ceremony continues. The female slave elders will receive their punishment. Two hundred strikes each."

The fifty elders did not flinch. They had known this was coming.

"Assume the position," Xuanfa commanded.

The fifty women turned, presenting their buttocks to the sky. They pressed their chests to the ground, arms extended forward, spines arched, legs spread. Their buttocks, of all shapes and sizes, rose in perfect alignment.

Xuanfa raised his hand. Above the fifty women, fifty Heavenly Way Wooden Boards materialized, floating in the air.

"Begin."

The boards descended.

The first strike landed across all fifty buttocks simultaneously, the sound like thunder splitting the sky. The fifty women flinched, but none cried out. Red lines appeared across their flesh.

The second strike fell. The third. The fourth.

By the tenth strike, the crying began. The fifty women whimpered, their buttocks turning pink, then red.

By the fiftieth strike, their buttocks were crimson, the flesh beginning to bruise. Some sobbed openly, snot mixing with tears. Others gritted their teeth, refusing to give their audience the satisfaction of their screams.

The boards did not relent.

One hundred strikes.

The buttocks of the fifty women were now a mess of purple and black, swollen and split in places. Blood beaded on the surface of their skin. The women screamed, their bodies writhing, but none moved from their positions. They held their buttocks high, accepting every strike.

One hundred and fifty strikes.

Some of the women had gone silent, their voices raw. Their buttocks had been transformed into ruined flesh, the skin broken in dozens of places. Blood dripped down their thighs, pooling on the ground beneath them.

Two hundred strikes.

The boards vanished.

The fifty women collapsed, gasping, weeping, their ruined buttocks still raised in the air. They had not dodged. They had not tried to escape. They had taken every strike.

Xuanfa nodded slowly. "Acceptable."

The women who had remained conscious helped those who had nearly fainted, supporting each other as they crawled away from the platform.

Xuanfa turned to the three women beside him. "Now. The grand elder female slaves."

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue knelt before him, their foreheads touching the stone.

"The harshest punishment," Xuanfa said. "Five hundred strikes each. You will not move from your position. You will not shield yourselves. You will accept everything I give you."

"We understand, master," the three said in unison.

"Show the disciples how it is done."

The three women rose and walked to the center of

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