The Punishment of the Sovereign of Mystic Punishment

In this world of cultivation, the path to immortality was paved with jade and blood. Men were few but formidable, their power often eclipsing that of female cultivators. The stages of Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, and Divine Transformation marked the ascent of a cultivator's soul. Yet there existed a peculiar custom: a male cultivator could claim a female cultivator as his female slave by spanking her bare bottom, an act that not only asserted dominance but also accelerated the cultivation of both parties. Most female cultivators resisted this fate, clinging to their pride and independence. But the Sovereign of Mystic Punishment, Xuanfa, cared little for their reluctance. His love for spanking women's bottoms was a well-known rumor, one that sent shivers through the sects.

The Immortal Cloud Sect was an all-female sect perched on the misty peaks of the Azure Cloud Mountain. Its disciples, dressed in black-and-white Daoist robes, trained in sword arts and meditation, their days filled with serene discipline. Today, however, serenity shattered like a struck bell.

A young disciple, barely in the Foundation Establishment stage, had accidentally offended Xuanfa during a market festival in the mortal town below. She had spilled tea on his robe, a trivial mishap, but Xuanfa was not a man who forgave such slights. With a cold flick of his finger, he had sent the girl flying, her back bruised and her spirit broken. Yet that was not enough. He declared he would visit the Immortal Cloud Sect to teach them all a lesson.

Word reached the sect leader, Shen Mengyue, within hours. She stood on the main hall's marble steps, her waist-length black hair flowing in the mountain breeze, her black-and-white Daoist robes pristine. Her beauty was a paradox—pure as a maiden, yet seductively mature, her fair skin glowing with Nascent Soul essence. She clenched her sword, a blade named Azure Lotus, and clenched her heart with equal resolve. Her disciples, a hundred strong, gathered behind her, their faces pale with fear.

"Sect Leader, he's here," whispered Lin Xi, the eldest disciple, her voice trembling.

Shen Mengyue nodded, her gaze fixed on the sky. A dark figure descended from the clouds, landing lightly on the training grounds. Xuanfa wore black training clothes that hugged his lean, powerful frame. His face was cold, handsome as carved jade, and his eyes held no warmth. He was the Great Perfection of Nascent Soul—one step away from Divine Transformation. No one in this world could match him.

"You are the sect leader?" Xuanfa's voice was low, devoid of emotion.

"I am Shen Mengyue. Your grievance is with me alone. Let my disciples go." She stepped forward, her sword held in a defensive stance.

Xuanfa's lips twitched—not a smile, but a hint of amusement. "Your disciple's offense is the sect's offense. I will spank every female cultivator here until your bottoms are blooming red. That is the punishment."

Shen Mengyue's eyes widened. She had heard of his cruel habits, but to hear it spoken so plainly enraged her. "You will not touch a single one of them."

She attacked. Azure Lotus sang through the air, a streak of blue light aimed at his throat. Xuanfa did not move until the blade was inches away, then he raised a finger and tapped the sword. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through Shen Mengyue's arm. She spun, unleashing a flurry of strikes—each one faster, sharper, layered with sword intent. Dust rose from the grounds, stones cracked, and the disciples gasped.

Xuanfa deflected every blow with minimal effort, his fingers weaving through the air like a calligrapher's brush. He used only seventy percent of his strength, gauging her skill. She was good—Middle Nascent Soul, with a mastery of the Azure Lotus Sword Art. But against him, she was a child wielding a toy.

Ten minutes into the battle, Shen Mengyue was already panting, sweat beading on her brow. She launched a final desperate technique—a bloom of a thousand sword petals that spiraled toward him. Xuanfa raised his palm, and the petals shattered against an invisible barrier. Then he moved.

A flick of his finger caught her wrist, twisting the sword from her grasp. Another finger strike to her dantian disrupted her Qi, and she crumpled to the ground, her body numb. She lay on the cool stones, staring up at the sky, her strength drained. Footsteps approached.

Xuanfa stood over her, his shadow falling across her face. She looked up, her cool demeanor cracking, replaced by terror. His eyes were impassive, as if he were examining a bug.

"Your resistance was futile," he said, his voice flat. He glanced at the gathered disciples, who huddled together, weeping. "Because the Immortal Cloud Sect chose to resist stubbornly, the punishment is increased. From today, every disciple—from the sect leader down to the youngest—will receive one hundred spanks with the Mystic Wooden Board. Every day. For three years."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Shen Mengyue's heart sank. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her body would not obey. Tears welled in her eyes—not for herself, but for her sect. One hundred spanks daily for three years. The pain alone could cripple a cultivator's cultivation. And the humiliation? It was worse than death.

Xuanfa turned to the disciples, his cold gaze sweeping over them. "Prepare yourselves. The punishment begins at dawn."

He vanished, leaving behind a silence filled with despair. Shen Mengyue lay on the ground, her fists clenched, her pride shattered. The sovereign of mystic punishment had spoken, and his word was iron.

Fifteen years had passed in the Mystic Heaven Realm, and the days had settled into a rhythm that Li Que had never imagined she would come to accept. Every morning, she and Lin Qiaoxin knelt side by side in the cultivation chamber, their bodies bare, their bottoms raised high in silent submission. The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board, a weapon of punishment that hummed with ancient power, would descend two hundred times upon their flesh, each strike precise and devastating.

Li Que had grown accustomed to the pain, but lately, something had shifted within her. As the wooden board cracked against her reddened buttocks, a strange numbness spread through her lower body, a tingling warmth that settled deep between her thighs. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with confusion. The pain was supposed to be punishment, but her body reacted in ways she did not understand. Her vulva grew moist, slick with an arousal that shamed her.

She glanced sideways at Lin Qiaoxin, who knelt beside her with her twin-tails bouncing with each strike. The younger woman's eyes were half-closed, her lips parted slightly, and a faint moan escaped her throat with every blow. Li Que wanted to ask if Lin Qiaoxin felt the same—the numbing pleasure that intertwined with the agony—but pride kept her silent.

Lin Qiaoxin blinked slowly, her gaze meeting Li Que's. A knowing smile curled at the corners of her mouth, as if she had read every thought in Li Que's mind. She said nothing, but her expression held a secret that Li Que was not yet ready to share.

After the daily punishment, Xuanfa would often lead them on dog leashes through the halls of his domain. Li Que crawled naked on all fours, her red hair spilling over her shoulders, her breasts swaying beneath her. Lin Qiaoxin crawled beside her, her youthful body glistening with sweat, her playful demeanor undimmed even in such humiliation. The leather leash tugged at Li Que's neck, a constant reminder of her place.

One afternoon, the sun cast long shadows across the stone floor. Li Que and Lin Qiaoxin knelt before Xuanfa, their heads bowed, their bottoms still throbbing from the morning's punishment. The air was thick with incense, and the silence stretched between them like a taut wire.

Li Que raised her eyes. "Xuanfa, what do you enjoy most in this world?"

Xuanfa stood before them, his black training clothes immaculate, his cold features unreadable. His eyes, dark and piercing, swept over their naked forms. "What I enjoy most," he said, his voice low and even, "is watching female cultivators being spanked and tortured. The pain they suffer makes me stronger—psychologically and cultivation-wise. Their suffering is my nourishment."

Lin Qiaoxin smiled, her eyes bright with mischief. "Then we have an opportunity for you."

Li Que nodded. "The entire cultivation world knows that Shen Mengyue, the leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect, was stripped naked by you and made to kneel at the sect's main hall. But it is not yet widely known that we have become your female slaves."

Lin Qiaoxin leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Lead us, naked and crawling like female dogs on leashes, to the highest platform of Wuling City. Have Shen Mengyue's disciples bring her, also on a dog leash, to the same platform. The three of us will kneel in a row, our upper bodies leaning forward, our plump bottoms lifted high. You will summon the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board to spank all three of us automatically until our bottoms are beaten completely raw—raw to the point where even cultivators need a week to recover."

Li Que continued, her voice steady despite the subject. "Then our legs will be forcibly spread open, and we will be severely whipped on the crack of our bottoms until our anuses and vulvas are swollen. Finally, anal hooks will be inserted into our swollen anuses, and we will be hung up for a week as a public spectacle."

Lin Qiaoxin clapped her hands together. "That will surely make you happy."

Xuanfa's lips curled into a faint smile—a rare expression that sent a shiver down Li Que's spine. "I agree to your plan," he said. "It will be done."

But then his eyes narrowed. "Before that, I want to try something new."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que exchanged a glance. There was no fear in their eyes, only anticipation.

Xuanfa gestured with his hand, and a bowl of golden liquid appeared before him. The air filled with a sharp, pungent aroma that stung the nostrils. "This is ginger juice squeezed from magical ginger grown in the Mystic Heaven Realm. It burns like fire."

He turned to face them. "Kneel. Lift your bottoms. Spread your anuses open with your own hands."

Li Que's heart raced, but she obeyed without hesitation. She lowered her upper body to the floor, her buttocks rising high into the air. Her hands reached back, her fingers gripping the edges of her anus, pulling the tight ring open. Beside her, Lin Qiaoxin did the same, her youthful body trembling slightly.

Xuanfa approached them with the bowl. He knelt behind Li Que first, and she felt the rim of a funnel press against her exposed anus. The metal was cold, a stark contrast to the heat she knew was coming. Then the ginger juice poured in.

The sensation hit Li Que like a bolt of lightning. It was as if a red-hot iron rod had been thrust into her bowels. Fire spread through her intestines, burning, searing, consuming her from the inside. Her muscles clenched involuntarily, and a scream tore from her throat. She doubled over, her hands flying to her stomach, but she forced herself to stay in position.

Behind her, Lin Qiaoxin let out a sharp cry, her body convulsing as the ginger juice was poured into her. "It burns!" she gasped, her voice strained. "So hot!"

Xuanfa stood back, his expression cold. "If you lose control and expel the ginger juice during the daily punishment, you will receive an extra one hundred strikes."

He raised his hand, and the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board materialized in the air above them. It pulsed with dark light, ready to deliver the daily two hundred strikes.

"Begin," Xuanfa commanded.

The first strike fell. The wooden board slammed into Li Que's raw buttocks with a loud crack. Pain exploded through her, but the agony in her intestines was far worse. The motion of the strike sent the ginger juice sloshing inside her, the burning liquid searing her insides anew. She gasped, her fingers digging into the stone floor.

The second strike came, and then the third. Each blow sent waves of fire through her body. Her muscles clenched, fighting the urge to expel the ginger juice, but the battle was futile. After just a dozen strikes, the pressure became unbearable. Her anus spasmed, and the golden liquid erupted from her, splattering across the floor.

Beside her, Lin Qiaoxin lost control at the same moment. The ginger juice sprayed from her anus, and she collapsed forward, sobbing with relief and pain.

Xuanfa's voice cut through the chamber like ice. "You have both failed. One hundred extra strikes."

The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board continued its assault. The strikes fell harder now, faster, each one a thunderous blow that echoed through the cultivation chamber. Li Que's buttocks were raw, the skin broken and bleeding, but the wooden board showed no mercy. She screamed, her voice hoarse, her body writhing with every impact.

The ginger juice still lingered in her intestines, a residual burn that made every motion agony. Her vulva, slick and swollen, throbbed with a confusing mixture of pain and arousal. She could hear Lin Qiaoxin crying beside her, her youthful voice breaking into sobs, but beneath the anguish, there was a hint of something else—a strange, undeniable pleasure.

When the three hundred strikes finally ended, Li Que collapsed to the floor, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her bottom was a mass of raw, bleeding flesh. The pain was all-consuming, but beneath it, a warmth spread through her, a numbness that felt disturbingly like satisfaction.

She turned her head to look at Lin Qiaoxin. The younger woman lay beside her, her face streaked with tears, her bottom equally ruined. But her eyes held a spark, a glimmer of something that Li Que recognized.

Lin Qiaoxin reached out and took Li Que's hand. "It hurts so much," she whispered, her voice shaking. "But it's wonderful, isn't it?"

Li Que squeezed her hand back, her throat too tight for words. She nodded slowly.

Xuanfa stood above them, his shadow falling over their broken bodies. "Tomorrow," he said, "we begin the plan. You will crawl through Wuling City on your hands and knees, and the world will see what belongs to me."

Li Que closed her eyes, her body surrendering to the pain and the strange, twisted pleasure that came with it. She had been the vice-leader of the Vermilion Bird Sect, proud and unmatched. Now she lay on the cold stone floor, her body raw and broken, but for the first time in fifteen years, she felt truly alive.

That day, Xuanfa attached dog leashes to the collars of Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que and strode boldly into Wuling City. The two women crawled on all fours beside him, their naked bodies fully exposed to the midday sun. Their breasts swayed with each step, and the bruises—purple and black—covered their bottoms like a grotesque map of punishment. Passersby froze mid-step, jaws dropping. Children were hurried away by blushing mothers. Merchants abandoned their stalls to gape. Whispers erupted like wildfire: "It's them! The ones from the rumors!" "Look at their behinds... who could do such a thing?" "That man must be Xuanfa himself!"

Lin Qiaoxin's twin tails bounced as she crawled, a faint smile playing on her lips despite the agony twisting in her bowels. The ginger juice Xuanfa had injected into her intestines earlier burned like liquid fire, spreading a searing, tingling heat that made her thighs tremble. Every movement of her hips sent fresh waves of torment through her core. She clenched her teeth, not in anger but in a strange, giddy submission. Beside her, Li Que's red ponytail swayed, her athletic shoulders taut. The ginger fire inside her was no less intense, but her pride had long since crumbled under Xuanfa's might. She crawled with perfect obedience, her eyes fixed on the ground, yet her heart swelled with a twisted sense of purpose. They were serving their master. This pain was a gift.

On the other side of the city, Shen Mengyue was led by her own disciple on a dog leash. The disciple—a trembling young woman in white robes—held the leather strap with shaking hands, tears streaming down her face. "Sect Leader, I'm so sorry," she whispered, but Shen Mengyue did not answer. She could not. Her voice was locked in her throat, her mind a hurricane of shame. She crawled naked through the crowded streets, her waist-length black hair dragging in the dust, her fair skin prickling with a thousand stares. Every step was a knife. Every whisper cut deeper than a blade.

"Is that really the Immortal Cloud Sect Leader?" a man sneered.

"Stripped and crawling like a dog—how the mighty have fallen," a woman laughed.

Shen Mengyue's eyes burned, but she forced them dry. She would not give them the satisfaction of tears. Yet inside, her heart was shattering. She had led her sect with honor for decades. She had protected her disciples, taught them the Way, upheld justice. And now she was a spectacle, a naked beast paraded for the amusement of the masses. Her soul screamed, but her body crawled on. The leash tugged at her neck, and she followed, because defiance meant even worse punishment. She knew Xuanfa. He kept his promises. If she resisted, he would make the entire sect pay.

The platform stood at the center of Wuling City's main square, a stone stage raised high for announcements and executions. Today, it would serve a different purpose. Xuanfa ascended the steps with Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que crawling behind him. The crowd swelled, pressing against the barriers, craning necks for a better view. When Shen Mengyue crawled up the opposite stairs, the roar of the crowd seemed to shake the very stones.

Xuanfa stood at the center, his black training clothes immaculate, his face an ice sculpture. He raised a hand, and silence fell. "Today," he announced, his voice carrying without effort, "I will spank these three women publicly. They have been disobedient. They will be taught."

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes sparkled. Li Que's lips curved into a faint smile. Shen Mengyue's shoulders slumped.

Xuanfa gestured, and the three women knelt in a row. They knew the position by now: upper bodies leaning forward, chests pressed to the cool stone, bottoms lifted high into the air. Lin Qiaoxin's bruised bottom rose eagerly, the cheeks parting slightly to reveal the swollen crack. Li Que's athletic buttocks tensed, the purple bruises standing out against her tanned skin. Shen Mengyue's pale bottom quivered, the marks of previous beatings barely healed, now waiting for fresh pain.

Xuanfa closed his eyes and summoned his technique. A wooden board materialized in the air above them—the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board, flat and wide, inscribed with ancient runes. It pulsed with a faint golden light. At Xuanfa's mental command, the board descended.

*WHACK!*

The first strike landed on Lin Qiaoxin's right cheek. Her body jolted, and a sharp gasp escaped her lips, but it was followed by a soft, breathy moan. The ginger fire inside her roared in response, the twin torments of spice and impact blending into a delirious heat. *WHACK!* Another strike on her left cheek. Her bottom rippled, the flesh deepening to a darker purple.

*WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!*

The board moved with relentless precision, striking each woman in turn. Li Que grunted with each blow, her fingers clawing at the stone. The pain was a clean, sharp fire, but the ginger inside her was a dirty, spreading burn. She welcomed both. *WHACK!* Her bottom flattened under the impact, then bounced back, darker still.

Shen Mengyue whimpered. She could not help it. The board crashed against her tender flesh, and the sound echoed in her skull. *WHACK!* She clenched her teeth, but a tear escaped, rolling down her cheek to the stone. *WHACK!* Her bottom was being flattened, the skin splitting in thin lines. *WHACK!* Blood began to seep, staining her pale thighs.

The crowd murmured, some in horror, others in fascination. Children were carried away. Elders shook their heads. But no one intervened. No one dared.

The beatings continued. Board after board, minute after minute. Lin Qiaoxin's bottom became a raw, weeping mess of purple and red, the skin so bruised it looked black in places. She panted, sweat dripping from her brow, but her lips were curved in a dreamy smile. "More... master... please more," she whispered.

Li Que's bottom was equally destroyed, the muscle beneath the skin swelling and splitting. She bit her lip until it bled, but her eyes shone with devotion. "For you, master. All for you."

Shen Mengyue's bottom was a catastrophe. The board had torn through layer after layer of skin, leaving exposed, glistening flesh. Blood pooled beneath her, dripping from her thighs to the stone. Her sobs were quiet but constant. She no longer cared about dignity. She only wanted the pain to stop. But it did not stop.

After what felt like an eternity, the board paused. The women's bottoms were raw, shredded, the kind of injury that would take even cultivators a full week to heal. Xuanfa nodded, satisfied with the state of their flesh. But he was not done.

He raised his hand again, and a whip materialized—long, thin, and black, made of some supple, sting-inducing material. "Spread their legs," he commanded.

From the shadows of the platform, two of Xuanfa's servants emerged—silent figures in gray robes. They grabbed the ankles of each woman and forced their legs apart, exposing the tender cracks of their bottoms. The inner cheeks, the anuses, the vulvas—all laid bare to the crowd.

Lin Qiaoxin's anus was a tight pink pucker, her vulva a neat slit. Li Que's was darker, her labia fuller. Shen Mengyue's was pale and delicate, the lips slightly parted.

Xuanfa flicked the whip. It whistled through the air and landed with a sharp *CRACK* directly on Lin Qiaoxin's bottom crack. She screamed—a sharp, surprised cry that turned into a shuddering moan. The whip split the raw skin, and blood welled along the line of the crack. *CRACK!* Another strike, this time on her anus. She arched her back, her whole body convulsing. The ginger inside her surged, the spicy burn mingling with the searing pain of the whip.

*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*

Li Que took her punishment with gritted teeth, but even she could not suppress the grunts of agony as the whip landed on her anus, on her vulva. The tender flesh split, swelled, turned red and purple.

*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*

Shen Mengyue wept openly as the whip lashed her most intimate places. The line of her bottom crack was flayed open. Her anus was a swollen, bleeding knot. Her vulva was so beaten that the inner lips protruded, purple and puffy. She could not stop the tears, the sobs, the pleading whispers that no one heard.

The crowd watched in stunned silence. Some women turned away, hands over their mouths. Some men looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. Others watched with cold curiosity, as if observing a ritual they did not fully understand.

Xuanfa continued until the three women's bottom cracks were a mess of swollen, bloody flesh. Their anuses were so swollen they could barely close. Their vulvas were engorged, the inner lips hanging like bruised petals. He coiled the whip and nodded.

"Now," he said, "the final lesson."

He produced three anal hooks from his storage ring—curved metal implements with a thick, blunt end and a chain attached. The servants took them and, without hesitation, pressed the hooks against the women's swollen anuses.

Lin Qiaoxin gasped as the cold metal touched her abused flesh. The servant pushed, and the hook slid into her rectum. She screamed—a raw, primal sound—as the hook filled her, the curve pressing against her inner walls. Her eyes rolled back, but she did not resist. She welcomed it. *This is for my master,* she thought deliriously. *This is my offering.*

Li Que groaned as the hook entered her, the pain of penetration adding to the fire of the ginger and the whip. She clenched her fists, her muscles straining, but she held still. *I am his slave. This is my place.*

Shen Mengyue sobbed as the hook breached her. The metal scraped against her raw, swollen entrance, and she screamed, "No! Please, no more!" But the servant pushed relentlessly until the hook was fully seated, its curve anchored inside her rectum. The chain hung from her anus, glinting in the light.

Xuanfa gestured, and chains were attached to the hooks. Then, with a wave of his hand, he levitated the three women upward. Their bodies were lifted, their weight suspended entirely by the hooks in their anuses. They hung in the air, naked, bleeding, their bottoms raw and exposed, their legs spread, their genitals displayed to the crowd.

Lin Qiaoxin swung gently, a smile on her face despite the agony. "Look, everyone," she said weakly, "I am my master's bitch."

Li Que hung with her eyes closed, her lips moving in a silent mantra of submission.

Shen Mengyue hung with her head lolled, tears mixing with the blood that dripped from her bottom. *My disciples... my sect... forgive me. I have brought shame upon you all.*

The crowd dispersed slowly, but more gathered, pointing, whispering, snapping memory talismans to record the scene. The three women would hang for a week, a public spectacle of punishment. Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que felt a deep, perverse pride, knowing they pleased their master. Shen Mengyue felt only the cold weight of endless shame.

Xuanfa turned and walked away, his work done. Behind him, the chains clinked, and the women swayed in the breeze.

The seventh day dawned grey and overcast over Wuling City. For Shen Mengyue, the past week had been a descent into a hell she had never imagined existed. The steel hook through her anus had long since ceased to be a mere physical torment; it had become a constant, gnawing reminder of her utter degradation. Every shift of her weight sent fresh spikes of agony through her core, but far worse was the knowledge that she hung suspended in the air, naked and exposed, before the eyes of a city that had once respected her.

The people of Wuling City had grown accustomed to the sight. At first, they had gathered in murmuring crowds, pointing and whispering. Some had laughed. Others had looked away in shame. But as the days passed, the spectacle became mundane. Merchants hawked their wares beneath her dangling form. Children played in the square, occasionally glancing up with curiosity before returning to their games. Shen Mengyue learned to close her eyes, to retreat into the darkest corners of her mind, but she could never escape the sound of their footsteps, their voices, their casual indifference to her suffering.

Lin Qiaoxin hung to her left, and Li Que to her right. The two former enemies had become strange companions in misery, though their attitudes could not have been more different. Lin Qiaoxin had adapted with alarming speed. Within the first day, she had begun humming tunes, swinging gently on her hook as if it were a playground swing. She even cracked jokes, her playful spirit unbroken despite the agony that must have wracked her small frame.

"Yue-jie," Lin Qiaoxin called out on the third day, her voice hoarse but cheerful, "do you think the Venerable will let us down soon? My backside is starting to miss his palm. This hook is really no substitute."

Shen Mengyue had not answered. She could not find the words. Her pride, her dignity, her identity as the sect leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect—all had been stripped away, layer by layer, until nothing remained but raw, trembling flesh.

Li Que, on the other hand, bore her punishment with a stoic silence that bordered on reverence. She never complained. She never joked. Her red hair hung limp around her face, and her athletic body remained still, accepting the pain as a warrior accepts a wound in battle. On the fifth day, she spoke for the first time.

"This is merely a test," she said, her voice low and steady. "The Venerable tests our resolve. Those who endure earn his favor."

Lin Qiaoxin laughed. "You really have drunk the kool-aid, haven't you? But I suppose you're not wrong. I mean, look at me—I'm having the time of my life up here." She paused, then added more quietly, "Well, not really. But you know what I mean. Better to accept it than fight it, right?"

Shen Mengyue remained silent. She could not accept. She would not. The very thought of becoming a female slave to the man who had humiliated her so thoroughly was anathema to everything she believed. But as the days wore on, and the hook ground against her insides with every breath, her resolve began to crack.

The seventh day ended at sunset. As the last rays of orange light faded behind the city walls, Xuanfa appeared. He did not announce himself. He simply materialized in the square, as if he had been there all along, invisible to mortal eyes. His black training clothes were immaculate, his face expressionless, his eyes cold and distant.

With a wave of his hand, the chains that held the three women dissolved. They fell, each landing on the stone pavement with a thud and a cry of pain. The hooks remained embedded in their anuses for a moment longer, then vanished, leaving behind a raw, burning emptiness. Shen Mengyue collapsed onto her side, shivering, her body wracked with tremors. She could not move. She could barely breathe.

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que, by contrast, rose immediately to their knees, their heads bowed. They had spent the week in meditation, preparing themselves for this moment. They knew the rules of the Mystic Heaven Realm. They knew what was expected of them.

"Shen Mengyue," Xuanfa said, his voice cutting through the evening air like a blade.

She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen, her lips cracked from days of thirst. She tried to speak, but only a croak emerged.

Xuanfa stepped closer, his boots clicking against the stone. "You have spent a week contemplating your situation. I hope you have arrived at the correct conclusion."

Shen Mengyue shook her head, a desperate, pathetic motion. "Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, Venerable... I have been punished. I have suffered. I offended you, and I have paid for it. Please... let me go. I will never cross you again. I swear it on my sect, on my cultivation, on everything I hold dear."

Xuanfa's expression did not change. "You have not understood."

"Please!" Shen Mengyue crawled forward, ignoring the searing pain in her lower body, and pressed her forehead to his boots. "I beg you! I am the sect leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect. I cannot become your slave. My disciples look up to me. They need me. If I am reduced to this, what will become of them? Please, Venerable, have mercy!"

Xuanfa looked down at her for a long moment. Then he snorted. "Stubborn. Even now, you cling to pride."

He turned to Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que. "Prepare her."

The two women moved immediately. Lin Qiaoxin, though still wincing from her own ordeal, knelt beside Shen Mengyue and grabbed her arms. Li Que took her legs. Together, they forced her into a position she had come to dread: kneeling, her face pressed to the ground, her hips raised high, her bare bottom offered up to the evening sky.

"No!" Shen Mengyue struggled, her cultivation surging, but an invisible force pressed down on her, crushing her resistance. She could not move. She could not fight. She was pinned, helpless, exactly as Xuanfa wanted.

Lin Qiaoxin took a small vial from her spatial ring—a vial that had appeared there without her knowing, placed by Xuanfa's will. She uncorked it, and the sharp, acrid smell of ginger juice filled the air.

"Yue-jie," Lin Qiaoxin said, her voice oddly gentle, "this is going to hurt. A lot. I'm sorry."

Li Que positioned herself behind Shen Mengyue and, with practiced ease, spread open her anus. The flesh was still raw and swollen from the week of hanging, and Shen Mengyue screamed at the touch. But Li Que held firm, her fingers pressing into the sensitive skin, widening the opening.

Lin Qiaoxin poured.

The ginger juice flowed into Shen Mengyue's intestines like liquid fire. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The burns, the spankings, the humiliation of being hung naked from a hook—none of it compared to this. The ginger juice seared her insides, setting every nerve ablaze with a pain that was both external and internal, a burning that radiated from deep within her bowels outward to every inch of her body.

She screamed. She thrashed. She tried to clench her muscles, to expel the liquid, but Li Que's fingers kept her open, and Lin Qiaoxin kept pouring. The vial seemed bottomless, flooding her with more and more of the fiery liquid until she thought she would die from the sheer intensity of the burning.

"Enough," Xuanfa said, and the vial was withdrawn.

Shen Mengyue collapsed forward, gasping, sobbing, her body wracked with uncontrollable tremors. The burning did not stop. It intensified, spreading through her abdomen, her chest, her limbs. She felt as if she were being consumed from the inside out.

Xuanfa handed Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que each a Heaven's Dao Wooden Board. The boards were made of a dark, glossy wood, their surfaces etched with runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. They were heavy, solid, designed to inflict maximum pain.

"One hundred strikes each," Xuanfa said. "For every strike, Shen Mengyue will say, 'Thank you, Sovereign Xuanfa, for spanking me.' If she fails to speak, you will pour another vial of ginger juice into her."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que exchanged glances. Then they smiled—not cruel smiles, but the smiles of servants who understood their duty. They took their positions on either side of Shen Mengyue, raised their boards, and brought them down.

The first strike landed on her right buttock. The impact was thunderous, echoing off the stone walls of the square. The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board was not like an ordinary paddle. It carried with it the weight of the heavens themselves, amplifying the pain tenfold. Shen Mengyue's entire body jolted, and a fresh scream tore from her throat.

"Shen Mengyue," Xuanfa said coldly. "You have not spoken."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que paused, looking to their master for instruction.

Xuanfa produced another vial of ginger juice. Li Que immediately spread Shen Mengyue's anus again, and Lin Qiaoxin poured. The second dose hit Shen Mengyue's already inflamed intestines like a bomb, sending her into a frenzy of agony. She bucked and writhed, but the invisible force held her in place, and the two women held her open, ensuring every drop entered her body.

When the vial was empty, Xuanfa said, "Continue."

The boards fell again. One, two, three strikes, each harder than the last. The skin of her buttocks began to redden, then purple, then black. The flesh swelled and split, droplets of blood mixing with the ginger juice that leaked from her anus.

"Shen Mengyue," Xuanfa said again, his voice soft but carrying an edge of menace. "Speak, or receive another vial."

The fourth strike landed, and through the haze of pain, Shen Mengyue finally understood. She could not win. She could not resist. The only way out was through submission, and even then, there would be no true escape.

"Thank... you..." she gasped, her voice broken and raw. "Thank you, Sovereign Xuanfa, for spanking me."

"Good," Xuanfa said. "Continue."

The boards fell again, and now Shen Mengyue forced herself to speak with every strike. The words became a mantra, a litany of surrender. Each time she said them, a piece of her pride chipped away, replaced by a strange, hollow acceptance. She was no longer the sect leader. She was no longer Shen Mengyue, the powerful cultivator who commanded respect and fear. She was simply a bottom being spanked, a body being punished, a soul being broken and remade.

By the sixtieth strike, she could barely form words. Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw from screaming. The ginger juice burned in her intestines, mixing with the blood that now flowed freely from her ruined anus. She wanted to die. She wanted to disappear. But the boards kept falling, and the pain kept coming, and she kept speaking.

"Thank you, Sovereign Xuanfa, for spanking me."

"Thank you, Sovereign Xuanfa, for spanking me."

"Thank you, Sovereign Xuanfa, for spanking me."

The words became a blur, meaningless sounds that tumbled from her lips without conscious thought. She lost count of the strikes. She lost track of time. There was only the pain, and the words, and the endless, rhythmic fall of the boards.

At some point, she realized she was begging.

"Please... please stop... I'll do anything... I'll become your slave... just stop..."

The boards paused. Xuanfa stepped forward, his cold eyes meeting hers. "You will become my female slave?"

"Yes," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, I will. Just don't harm my sect. Protect them. Please. That's all I ask."

Xuanfa considered this for a moment, then nodded. "I will not harm the disciples of the Immortal Cloud Sect. I will protect them as my own. This I swear."

The relief that flooded through Shen Mengyue was almost as overwhelming as the pain. She collapsed, her forehead pressing against the cold stone, and whispered, "I accept. I willingly become your female slave."

A light enveloped her, warm and golden, drawing her upward. The world dissolved, and she found herself in a realm unlike any she had ever seen. It was vast and empty, a white void that stretched in all directions, populated only

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One hundred years had reshaped the Mystic Heaven Realm into a domain of discipline and order. In the grand hall carved from jade and spiritual stone, a long row of fair, plump bottoms was raised high in perfect alignment. Each belonged to a female cultivator who had once commanded respect across the cultivation world—sect leaders, elders, rogue geniuses, noble daughters. Now they knelt with their foreheads pressed to the cold floor, their hands clasped behind their necks, their most private curves offered upward to the empty air.

Behind each raised bottom, two Heaven's Dao Wooden Boards floated silently. They were ancient artifacts of judgment, carved from the wood of the first heavenly tribulation tree, imbued with the power to punish without causing lasting harm—only exquisite, unforgettable pain. At a mental command from the three women standing behind the row, the boards began their work.

*Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.*

The sound echoed in the hall like a relentless drumbeat. Each strike landed precisely on the crest of a plump cheek, leaving a pink imprint that quickly deepened into scarlet. The thirty or more female cultivators gasped, some whimpered, a few let out sharp cries. But none dared to move out of position. They had learned that lesson well in the months since their capture.

At the head of the hall, three figures stood watching with the calm authority of those who had long mastered this ritual. Their bodies were bare, their skin lustrous from years of spiritual refinement. They were the first three—the original female slaves who had been transformed by Xuanfa's punishments into something far beyond ordinary cultivators.

Lin Qiaoxin stood on the left, her black low twin-tails swaying as she tilted her head to inspect the row. Her youthful face held a mischievous smile, but her eyes were sharp. She was still the playful genius who loved jokes, but now her humor had an edge of sadistic pleasure. Her body was lithe and perfectly proportioned, with small, firm breasts that rose and fell evenly. Her bottom, though, told a different story. It was a deep, angry red, swollen to twice its normal size, crisscrossed with darker lines from countless prior punishments. The skin was hot to the touch, even from a distance, and the cheeks quivered slightly with every breath she took.

In the center stood Shen Mengyue, the former sect leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect. Her waist-length black hair cascaded down her back, contrasting with the flushed crimson of her rear. Her figure was the epitome of mature allure—full, round breasts with dark nipples that peaked in the cool air, a narrow waist that flared into wide, womanly hips. Her bottom was the most swollen of the three, the flesh so plump and abused that it seemed to glow with its own heat. Her face remained serene, but a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. She had long since learned to find pleasure in the pain, and the moisture already gathering between her thighs was proof of that transformation.

On the right stood Li Que, tall and athletic, her red hair tied in a high ponytail that flicked with her movements. Her body was all taut muscle and graceful strength, with powerful thighs and a flat stomach that bore the faint marks of countless strikes. Her breasts were firm and high, her nipples hard. Her bottom, though—that was a masterpiece of punishment. The cheeks were round and hard as if carved from stone, yet they wobbled with the impact of every imaginary blow. The skin was a deep crimson verging on purple, with raised welts that traced the path of previous boards. She stood with her chin lifted, pride still flickering in her eyes, but her submission was absolute.

"Raise higher," Shen Mengyue said calmly, her voice carrying the weight of her former authority. "Relax your muscles. If you tense, the board will strike bone. You have not yet earned the right to feel that kind of pain."

"Yes, Sister Yue," came a chorus of trembling voices. The row of bottoms lifted a fraction more, and the women forced their glutes to soften.

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, stepping closer to a young woman who had once been a Core Formation genius in a minor sect. "You there—celestial scholar Su. I remember you. You called me a 'wanton girl' during the Heavenly Lotus Tournament. Now look at you. Bare as a newborn, bottom as red as a ripe peach, and trembling from a spanking that hasn't even reached its peak. How the mighty have fallen."

The woman, Su Yushu, bit her lip and said nothing. Tears leaked from her eyes, but she did not dare speak back.

Li Que snorted softly. "Enough teasing, Xin Nu. They need to focus. If even one loses control, the Master might be displeased."

Lin Qiaoxin pouted but said no more. She returned to her position and continued her inspection, occasionally reaching out to squeeze a cheek, feeling the heat and tension, and nodding in approval or making a small correction.

Suddenly, the air in the hall changed. A presence descended like a glacier sliding into a warm sea. The temperature dropped. The spiritual energy in the room seemed to hold its breath.

Xuanfa appeared at the far end of the hall, walking slowly between the rows of raised bottoms. He wore his black training clothes, simple and unadorned, yet they seemed to drink the light around him. His face was cold and handsome, his eyes like chips of dark jade that saw everything and forgave nothing. He moved without sound, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the line of quivering flesh.

In an instant, the three original slaves dropped to their knees. The movement was graceful rehearsed, perfected over a century of repetition. They lowered their heads until their foreheads touched their clasped hands on the floor. Then, in perfect unison, they raised their red and swollen bottoms high, pushing their hips up until their most vulnerable place was fully displayed.

"Master," they said together, their voices clear and submissive. "We were instructing the new sisters. Is Master here to watch Xin Nu/Que Nu/Yue Nu's punishment? Rest assured, we will try our best to endure to the end and not spoil Master's mood."

Xuanfa stopped in front of them. His eyes traced the curve of each swollen bottom, noting the precise shade of red, the pattern of welts, the way the flesh quivered under his gaze. He nodded once, a minimal gesture that carried absolute authority.

The three women did not hesitate. Their hands reached back, fingers spreading their anuses wide. The muscles were already loosened from prior training, the rings of flesh opening easily to reveal the dark, sensitive interiors. Then, from thin air, three syringes materialized. They were filled with a thick, amber liquid—freshly pressed ginger juice, concentrated and potent. The nozzles were slim but long.

Without a word, each woman guided the syringe to her own anus, pressed the tip inside, and depressed the plunger. The ginger juice flowed into their bowels, filling them with a burning, tingling heat that spread rapidly through their lower abdomens. They gasped softly, their bodies trembling, but they did not stop until every drop was injected. Then they withdrew the syringes, which vanished as silently as they had appeared.

"Three hundred spanks," Shen Mengyue said, her voice steady but strained. "We are ready."

Six Heaven's Dao Wooden Boards materialized in the air above them. They were larger than the ones used on the new slaves, carved with darker runes that pulsed with tribulation energy. The boards positioned themselves—two above each woman's raised bottom—and then they fell.

*CRACK!*

The sound was deafening. It was not the dull thwack of punishment but the sharp crack of heavenly judgment. The force drove each woman's hips hard into the floor, but they immediately pushed back up, holding position.

*CRACK! CRACK!*

The boards struck in alternating rhythm, each blow landing on a different cheek. The first ten strikes painted the already-raw flesh a brighter, angrier red. The ginger juice in their bowels began to work, heating from the inside, sending waves of burning sensation that mixed with the searing pain from without.

Lin Qiaoxin let out a sharp, high-pitched cry—more pleasure than pain, though the pain was real enough. "Ah! Yes! Again, please!"

Li Que gritted her teeth, her breath hissing through them. "Hnng—that's—that's good. Harder."

Shen Mengyue remained silent for the first twenty strikes, her body accepting the blows with a dignity that had become habit. But as the boards continued, their strength increasing with each hit, a low moan escaped her lips. "Master... thank you..."

The boards did not stop. They were relentless. The new slaves, still being punished by their own two boards each, watched in awe and terror. These three—these legendary women who had once been their leaders, their rivals, their idols—were being beaten far harder than any of them had endured. And yet they did not break.

At strike fifty, Lin Qiaoxin's bottom was a solid mass of red, the skin so tight it looked ready to split. She began to squirm, her hips making small circles as the ginger stirred deeper inside her. "It burns... it burns so good... Master, I love your punishment..."

At strike one hundred, Li Que's muscular cheeks were covered in dark welts that stood out against the crimson background. She was panting, her fingers digging into the floor, but she still held her position. "Ninety... nine... one hundred... hah... one hundred and one..."

At strike one hundred and fifty, Shen Mengyue finally broke her silence. A long, shuddering cry tore from her throat as the boards landed simultaneously on both cheeks. "AH! Yes! Master! Please—don't stop—I can take it!"

The boards did not stop. At two hundred strikes, the skin of all three bottoms had begun to break in places, tiny droplets of blood mixing with the sweat that poured down their thighs. The ginger juice now felt like liquid fire in their bowels, every muscle tensing and relaxing in a desperate rhythm to hold it in.

At two hundred and fifty, Lin Qiaoxin was laughing through her tears. "Almost there! Almost—three hundred—I will not fail you, Master!"

Li Que had stopped counting aloud. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes squeezed shut, but her hips stayed high, her anus clenched tight against the flood of burning juice.

Shen Mengyue had entered a state of focused meditation, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm, yet her mind was calm. She felt every strike as a wave of energy, purifying and punishing, driving her deeper into submission.

At two hundred ninety-nine, the boards paused. The hall was silent except for the ragged breathing of the three women and the sobbing of the newer slaves. Then, with one final coordinated descent, the six boards struck together.

*CRACK!*

The impact drove all three women flat to the ground. For a moment, they lay there, their bodies shuddering, their bottoms heaving. But then, slowly, with visible effort, they pushed themselves back up. They resumed the kneeling position—heads down, hands clasped, bottoms raised—and held it.

"Three hundred spanks completed," Shen Mengyue said, her voice hoarse but clear. "No ginger juice leaked out. Is Master satisfied?"

Lin Qiaoxin added, her voice trembling with a mix of pain and ecstasy, "Your Xin Nu is... very satisfied, Master. Please... may I have more later?"

Li Que simply said, "Que Nu awaits Master's judgment."

All three were drenched in sweat. Their bottoms were a ruin of red and purple, studded with welts and tiny cuts. Yet between their thighs, a clear fluid glistened, evidence that their bodies had learned to embrace the punishment as pleasure.

Xuanfa walked slowly around them, his eyes moving over their broken-in beauty. He stopped before each one, reaching down to touch a swollen cheek, feeling the heat, the tension, the surrender. A hint of approval flickered in his cold eyes.

"Acceptable," he said. It was the highest prais

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The Spanking Phoenix Sect sprawled across a spirit-filled peak in the Mystic Heaven Realm, its buildings simple but imposing. Naked female cultivators moved about their tasks without shame, their bare bodies glistening under the celestial light. Some carried water buckets, others swept courtyards, still others practiced sword forms on training grounds—all of them completely unclothed, their breasts swaying, their buttocks exposed to the air and to any eyes that cared to look.

Among them crawled figures on hands and knees. These were the female slave elders, distinguishable at a glance from the ordinary disciples. Where the disciples were merely naked, the elders wore heavy iron collars around their necks, etched with formation characters that glowed faintly with binding power. They moved like dogs, their knees and palms calloused from constant crawling. But what drew the eye most was their buttocks—swollen, purple-red, crisscrossed with welts and bruises, the unmistakable marks of Xuanfa's Heaven's Dao Wooden Board. Each elder bore her punishment proudly, her ruined bottom a badge of servitude.

Three elders held the highest positions in the sect.

Lin Qiaoxin, the formation grand elder, crawled through the formation hall, her low twin-tails bouncing as she moved. Her bottom was a canvas of purple and crimson, the skin tight and shiny from repeated beatings. She paused to correct a disciple's formation array, pointing with her chin since her hands were occupied with crawling.

"There, adjust that node," she said cheerfully. "You'll get it right. And if you don't, maybe the master will let me spank you personally!"

The disciple blushed, covering her breasts with one hand. "Elder Lin, please don't joke like that..."

"Who's joking? Getting spanked by me is an honor!" Lin Qiaoxin laughed, her voice carrying through the hall. "Of course, getting spanked by the master is even better. You should all work hard so you can apply to become his female slaves!"

None of the disciples could tell if she was serious or not.

Li Que, the combat grand elder, crawled through the training grounds, her athletic body gleaming with sweat. She had just finished demonstrating a sword technique to a group of disciples, moving on her knees with surprising speed and grace. Her red hair, tied in its high ponytail, swung behind her as she moved. Her bottom was even more abused than Lin Qiaoxin's—the skin dark purple, almost black in places, with fresh red stripes overlaying old scars.

"Aim higher," she instructed, pointing at a disciple's stance. "Your sword is dropping. In a real fight, that hesitation costs you your life."

"Yes, Elder Li," the disciple said, adjusting her grip.

"Good. Now again."

Li Que watched with satisfaction as the disciple executed the move correctly. She took pride in teaching, in molding these young women into fighters worthy of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. That they were naked and she was crawling like a dog mattered little. Strength was strength, and she respected those who sought it.

Shen Mengyue, the internal affairs grand elder, crawled through the administrative hall, reviewing scrolls and issuing orders. Her waist-length black hair cascaded down her back, partially covering the brutalized state of her buttocks. The skin was a deep, angry red, layered with purple bruises that spread down to her upper thighs. Despite her degradation, she maintained a cool dignity in her movements, a quiet grace that even crawling could not diminish.

"We need more spiritual stones for the formation hall," she told a disciple who knelt before her. "Take this requisition to the storage master."

"Yes, Elder Shen."

"And remind the disciples that the master will inspect the sect in three days. All areas must be immaculate."

"Yes, Elder Shen."

Shen Mengyue nodded, then continued crawling to the next desk. She had been the sect leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect once. Now she was a female slave, crawling on her knees, her bare bottom beaten black and blue. Yet in some strange way, she had found peace. The Master's punishment was absolute, but so was his protection. Under him, the Spanking Phoenix Sect thrived. And she, Yue Nu, was its beating heart.

The sect had grown quickly since its founding. News traveled fast in the cultivation world, and many female cultivators had come seeking admission. Not all of them were willing at first—the requirement to go naked was humiliating, and the knowledge that they might eventually be spanked by the master himself was terrifying. But the Spanking Phoenix Sect offered something few sects could: direct access to a Great Perfection Nascent Soul cultivator's teachings, and the chance to advance rapidly under the guidance of female slave elders who were themselves geniuses of their generation.

So they came. They shed their clothes. They learned. And some of them, the most talented or diligent, submitted applications to become Xuanfa's female slaves.

Those who were accepted understood what it meant. They would crawl. They would wear collars. Their bottoms would be beaten until they were unrecognizable. And they would love every moment of it, because that was the duty of a female slave—to accept the master's punishment with gratitude, to find joy in humiliation, to be broken and rebuilt in his image.

Xuanfa rarely left the Mystic Heaven Realm except to exercise his authority over the sect. He watched from the shadows, observing everything, saying little. His cold, handsome face betrayed no emotion as he watched his female slaves serve, as he watched the disciples train, as he watched the sect function under his design.

One morning, he appeared at the entrance of the sect's main hall, his black training clothes immaculate, his bearing radiating power. He held three leashes in his left hand. Attached to those leashes were Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue, crawling on their knees behind him.

The disciples in the area stopped what they were doing and knelt, heads bowed.

Xuanfa spoke, his voice carrying across the entire peak without effort. "Xin Nu, Yue Nu, and Que Nu have performed meritorious service for the sect. Xin Nu has taught formations with exceptional results—ten disciples have reached Core Formation through her guidance. Yue Nu has managed the sect's internal affairs flawlessly, increasing efficiency by forty percent. Que Nu has defeated a challenger who came to insult our sect."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"They will be spanked in public as a reward."

A murmur ran through the gathered disciples. Public spanking. In front of the main hall. Before everyone.

Lin Qiaoxin's face lit up with genuine joy. "Oh, thank you, Master! I knew my hard work would pay off!"

Li Que's lips curved into a proud smile. A public spanking was recognition of her strength, her service. She had earned this.

Shen Mengyue knelt in silence, her head bowed, but a faint blush colored her cheeks. She was grateful, truly grateful, for the master's acknowledgment.

Xuanfa turned and walked toward the raised platform before the main hall. The three female slaves crawled after him, their collars clinking, their bare buttocks swaying with each movement. The disciples parted to let them pass, averting their eyes from the sight of their elders' ruined flesh.

On the platform, Xuanfa stopped and turned. He gestured, and three kneeling cushions appeared, arranged in a row. "Assume the position."

The three female slaves crawled to their cushions. They positioned themselves with practiced ease—knees spread, upper bodies lowered until their chests touched the ground, arms stretched forward. Their buttocks rose high in the air, presented perfectly for punishment. The morning light caught the purple-red bruises and welts that already covered them, highlighting the damage beneath.

But the disciples saw something else. They saw their proud elders—formation grand elder, combat grand elder, internal affairs grand elder—bent over like the lowliest criminals, offering their naked bottoms to be beaten. They saw the collars gleaming around their necks, symbols of their enslavement. They saw the raw, unflinching submission in every line of their bodies.

And they understood, with a chill that ran down their spines, that this was what it meant to serve the master.

Xuanfa raised his hand, and four Heaven's Dao Wooden Boards materialized in the air, each one a meter long, covered in formation characters that glowed faintly. They hovered above the platform, waiting.

But before he gave the command, Xuanfa looked down at a spot beside the platform, where a fifth figure knelt. She was not there voluntarily. A female cultivator, her blue robes torn and disheveled, knelt with her hands bound behind her back by spirit ropes. Her face was flushed with humiliation, her eyes blazing with fury. She had been stripped naked by Xuanfa himself, her clothes discarded, her pride shattered.

This was Mu Rongying, the leader of the Heavenly Phoenix Sect, a middle-stage Nascent Soul cultivator who had come to challenge the Spanking Phoenix Sect.

She had heard of Xuanfa's atrocities, of his harem of female slaves, of the degradation he inflicted on proud sect leaders. She had come to put a stop to it, to defeat him and free his prisoners. But she had not faced Xuanfa directly. She had faced Li Que, and the red-haired female slave had beaten her thoroughly, breaking through her defenses and pinning her to the ground.

Xuanfa had appeared then, cold and terrible, and with a gesture he had stripped her robes away. The ropes had bound her. And now she knelt naked beside the platform, forced to watch the spectacle of his female slaves being rewarded.

"You will watch," Xuanfa said, not looking at her. "And you will learn."

"Go to hell!" Mu Rongying spat. "You think I'll bow to you? I'm the leader of the Heavenly Phoenix Sect! I—"

The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board struck.

Lin Qiaoxin cried out, a sharp gasp of pleasure-pain. Her purple-red buttocks jiggled with the impact, a fresh red stripe appearing across the bruised skin.

"Aah! Oh, Master, that's a good one!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying across the crowd. "I hope the disciples are watching! This is what happens when you excel at formations!"

The second board struck Li Que. She grunted, her athletic body tensing, but she held her position perfectly. The board left a bright red mark across her dark purple bottom.

"Is that all?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone.

The third board struck Shen Mengyue. She gasped, a soft, breathy sound, and her fingers curled against the platform. But she did not cry out. She endured.

"Disciples," she said, her voice strained but clear, "this is the path of cultivation. To accept punishment is to grow. Work hard, and one day you too may earn this reward."

The boards continued to fall, each strike precise and devastating. The formation characters on the boards glowed brighter with each impact, channeling spiritual energy that amplified the pain without causing lasting injury.

Lin Qiaoxin's laughter turned to giggles, then to breathless moans. "Oh, oh, that's the spot! Right there, Master! Don't stop!"

"Quiet, Xin Nu," Xuanfa said, his voice flat. "This is punishment, not play."

"It's both!" she insisted, her bottom bouncing as another strike landed. "I love being punished by you, Master! I wish the whole world could see!"

"And you are certain they cannot see from the mortal realm?" Xuanfa asked, a hint of dark humor in his voice. "Perhaps I should enhance the formation to project your image across the sky."

"YES! Do it! Let them all see how happy your female slave is!"

Li Que snorted but did not laugh. Another strike landed on her, and she grunted, shifting her weight. "You're in a good mood today, Xin Nu."

"Always! Especially when my bottom is getting a thorough beating!"

Shen Mengyue remained silent, but her breathing had grown ragged. The boards continued to fall, each strike finding a s

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the training grounds of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. Disciples in black and red robes paused in their drills, their eyes drawn to the entrance of the main courtyard where a figure in dark training clothes emerged.

Xuanfa walked with measured steps, his face as expressionless as carved jade. In his right hand, he held three leather leashes. Behind him, crawling on hands and knees, came three naked women. Lin Qiaoxin moved with a cheerful bounce in her crawl, her twin tails swinging as she looked around with bright eyes. Li Que kept her gaze straight ahead, her athletic form moving with disciplined precision, her red ponytail swaying. Shen Mengyue crawled with the grace of a fallen goddess, her long black hair pooling on the ground behind her.

The disciples of the sect turned their heads. Some blushed. Others looked away quickly. A few younger disciples covered their mouths with their hands.

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, her voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. "Heehee, Master, the disciples are looking at Xin Nu."

Li Que snorted softly. "They still haven't gotten used to it after all this time? We've been crawling like this for weeks."

Shen Mengyue's voice came calmly from behind. "Among them, some with outstanding performance can become Master's female slaves in the future. They should watch and learn."

Xuanfa continued walking, his boots making soft sounds on the stone path. The three women crawled in perfect formation behind him, their breasts swaying and buttocks rising and falling with each movement. They passed rows of disciples who bowed their heads, and reached the entrance of the sect's main hall—a massive building with red pillars and a black tile roof.

Xuanfa stopped. He turned around to face the three women kneeling on the ground before him. "Do you remember how you became my female slaves?"

Lin Qiaoxin spoke first, her voice light and playful. "Xin Nu remembers. Master appeared directly before Xin Nu and brusquely said that Xin Nu was to become Master's female slave. Xin Nu was unwilling at the time and tried to be clever in front of Master. Master then pulled down Xin Nu's skirt and spanked Xin Nu's perky bottom hard, making Xin Nu cry. Under Master's threats and promises, Xin Nu became Master's female slave."

She smiled sweetly, her cheeks flushing at the memory. "Xin Nu's bottom still tingles thinking about it."

Li Que spoke next, her voice firm and proud. "Que Nu remembers. Previously, I led the Vermilion Bird Sect to harass the Supreme Purity Palace. Believing myself unmatched at the same level, I was defeated by Sister Xin, whom Master had taught. I was spanked hard by Sister Xin's formations, and Master stuffed a ginger strip into my anus. Finally, I was hung by an anal hook as a public spectacle. Not knowing my place, I wanted to challenge Master, but was defeated in one move. Que Nu then obediently became Master's female slave."

Lin Qiaoxin giggled. "If Sister Que's bottom is itching, Xin Nu can use formations to spank it anytime."

Li Que shot her a glance but said nothing.

Shen Mengyue spoke last, her voice calm and measured. "Yue Nu remembers. After being punished with Sister Xin and Sister Que in Wuling City, I foolishly refused Master's kind offer to take me as a slave. Master gave Yue Nu an enema with ginger juice and had Sister Xin and Sister Que use the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board to spank this ungrateful bottom hard, alternating left and right. Yue Nu cried and obediently became Master's female slave."

Xuanfa's cold gaze swept over them. "And now? How do you feel about being a female slave and getting spanked?"

Lin Qiaoxin giggled again, wiggling her buttocks. "Although Master's Heaven's Dao Wooden Board hurts like hell, Xin Nu's bottom now loves receiving Master's spankings the most. My bottom gets thoroughly beaten every day and is ecstatic."

Li Que spoke firmly. "Que Nu was defeated by Master and taken as a female slave. I should obediently accept all of Master's humiliation and punishment. Que Nu's bottom must be thoroughly beaten every day as punishment."

Shen Mengyue's voice was serene. "Yue Nu's foolish refusal of Master's kindness to take me as a slave was a mistake. This mistake must be repaid by having my bottom thoroughly beaten every day."

All three women spoke in unison: "We have come to love the feeling of being spanked by Master."

Xuanfa's lips curled into a rare smile. "You three are quite enlightened. Today's punishment will be right here—two hundred spanks each with the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board, done all at once."

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Master!"

Li Que bowed her head. "Que Nu accepts Master's punishment."

Shen Mengyue lowered her head gracefully. "Yue Nu thanks Master."

The three women turned around and knelt on the stone ground. They lowered their upper bodies until their foreheads touched the cool stone, raising their buttocks high in the air. Lin Qiaoxin's round bottom was still slightly pink from previous punishments. Li Que's athletic cheeks were firm and defined. Shen Mengyue's pale buttocks were full and smooth, like sculpted marble.

Xuanfa waved his hand, and the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board appeared in the air—a flat piece of dark wood etched with ancient runes. At his mental command, the board split into three identical copies, floating above each woman's raised bottom.

"Begin," Xuanfa said.

The first board descended with a sharp crack against Lin Qiaoxin's left cheek. Her body jolted, but she let out a happy squeak. "Ah! One! Thank you, Master!"

The second board struck Li Que's right cheek. She grunted, her muscles tensing. "One. Thank you, Master."

The third board slapped across Shen Mengyue's upturned bottom. She gasped softly. "One. Yue Nu thanks Master."

The boards fell in perfect rotation, each striking with precise force. The sound of wood hitting flesh echoed through the courtyard. Disciples who had lingered to watch now stood frozen, their eyes wide.

Lin Qiaoxin's voice began to waver after fifty spanks. Her bottom was turning bright red, each impact making her squeal. "Ah! Fifty-one! Thank you, Master! Oh, it burns!"

Li Que took her punishment in silence, counting through gritted teeth. By eighty, her voice had grown hoarse. "Eighty-three... thank you... Master..."

Shen Mengyue maintained her composure the longest, but by one hundred, her breath came in ragged gasps. "One hundred and seven... Master... Yue Nu... thanks you..."

The boards never slowed. They rose and fell with mechanical precision, turning the three women's buttocks into a symphony of red and purple. The skin darkened, welts forming in crisscross patterns. Sweat glistened on their bodies.

Lin Qiaoxin's squeals turned into mewling cries. "Ah! One hundred and forty! Master! Xin Nu's bottom is on fire!"

Li Que's voice cracked. "One hundred and sixty-three... Que Nu... must... endure..."

Shen Mengyue's eyes were closed, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she counted without interruption. "One hundred and eighty-nine... Master... Yue Nu... is grateful..."

As the two-hundredth spank landed on each of their bottoms, a strange transformation occurred. The women's bodies, which had been trembling from pain, began to shudder with something else. Their vulvas, pressed against the cold stone, began to moisten.

Lin Qiaoxin let out a long, shuddering moan. "Ahhh... Master... two hundred... Xin Nu's bottom... loves Master..."

Li Que's voice was thick. "Two hundred... Que Nu... accepts... Master's punishment..."

Shen Mengyue's whisper was barely audible. "Two hundred... Yue Nu... is yours..."

Xuanfa dismissed the boards with a wave. The three women remained in position, their raised bottoms on full display, marred with red and purple markings. Their thighs glistened with evidence of their arousal.

Xuanfa looked down at them. "In a while, there will be the Spanking Phoenix Sect's grand assembly. The highlight will be your five hundred spanks each."

Lin Qiaoxin's voice was full of breathless joy. "Xin Nu thanks Master for the opportunity!"

Li Que's voice was steady. "Que Nu will not disappoint Master."

Shen Mengyue's tone was serene. "Yue Nu looks forward to serving Master before the sect."

The three women kowtowed, their foreheads touching the stone, their beaten bottoms raised high in the air, accepting their fate with gratitude and devotion.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the newly expanded grounds of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. Disciples had been preparing for days, sweeping the central plaza, arranging the altar, and polishing the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board until it gleamed with an almost sacred luster. Xuanfa stood at the head of the hall, his black training robes immaculate, his expression as cold and unreadable as carved jade. Before him, the sect had grown to one thousand disciples—a number that, while modest compared to the great sects of the world, represented something far more precious: absolute submission.

The grand ceremony began.

From the outer edges of the plaza, the disciples filed in, each one completely naked. Their bodies bore the marks of discipline—some had faint red stripes across their buttocks, others bore darker bruises from recent punishments. They stood in orderly rows, heads bowed, hands clasped behind their backs. No one dared to meet the master's gaze.

A drumbeat echoed from somewhere within the sect's depths. The disciples parted, creating a wide aisle down the center. Through this aisle crawled the female slave elders—fifty women who had proven their devotion through countless sessions beneath the board. They moved on hands and knees, their breasts swaying, their bottoms raised in the air as they made their slow, deliberate progress toward the altar. Each wore a slave collar around her neck, a simple band of black iron that marked her as property. Their faces were a mixture of shame and pride.

Then came the three.

Xuanfa held three leashes, each attached to a collar of slightly finer make. Lin Qiaoxin crawled at his left, her playful demeanor entirely absent today, replaced by a solemn reverence. Her low twin-tails bobbed as she moved forward on all fours. Behind her, Li Que's athletic form moved with a grudging grace, her red high ponytail trailing behind her like a banner of submission. And at Xuanfa's right, Shen Mengyue—the former sect leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect, once proud and untouchable—crawled like a common beast, her waist-length black hair brushing the ground.

The thousand disciples watched in utter silence. If even these powerful women could be brought so low, what hope was there for the rest of them?

Xuanfa reached the center of the plaza and stopped. He released the leashes. The three women immediately knelt beside him, their knees pressing into the cold stone, their backs straight, their heads bowed.

"The ceremony begins," Xuanfa said. His voice carried no warmth.

Lin Qiaoxin rose gracefully to her knees first. She turned to face the assembled disciples, her youthful face alight with an almost religious fervor. Behind her, two female slave elders carried the Heaven's Dao Wooden Board on a silk cushion and placed it upon the altar.

"Sisters," Lin Qiaoxin began, her voice ringing clear across the plaza, "you have all chosen to join the Spanking Phoenix Sect. You have chosen to abandon false pride and empty dignity. You have chosen to accept that your bodies exist to serve one purpose—to be disciplined, to be punished, and through that punishment, to ascend."

She gestured to the wooden board. "Other sects worship ancient founders or sacred artifacts. We worship this. The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board. Every spank it delivers is a lesson. Every welt it raises is a step toward enlightenment. Remember this."

Li Que stepped forward next. Her voice was rougher, carrying the edge of someone who had once been proud and had been broken. "The sect is called Spanking Phoenix for a reason. The phoenix rises from ashes. We were once noble cultivators, burning bright with arrogance. The master's board burned us to cinders. And from those cinders, we rose anew—humble, obedient, and strong."

She paused, scanning the rows of naked disciples. "The duty of a female slave is 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 order. When you greet the master, you will kneel, then raise your scarred bottoms high. This is your only way."

Shen Mengyue stepped forward last. Her voice was softer but carried an undeniable authority. "I was once a sect leader. I commanded thousands. I thought my strength made me untouchable. The master proved me wrong. He showed me that true strength lies not in resistance, but in surrender. I have learned to love the board, to crave its bite, because every blow brings me closer to the master's will."

She turned and faced Xuanfa, kneeling deeply. "We thank the master for his mercy and his discipline."

Xuanfa nodded once. "Rise. Give your guidance."

The three women spent the next hour sharing cultivation experiences. Lin Qiaoxin spoke of breaking through to Nascent Soul while being spanked, how the pain had focused her qi like nothing else. Li Que described the technique of redirecting spiritual energy through the buttocks to absorb the board's impact and convert it into power. Shen Mengyue demonstrated a breathing method that could be used during punishment to maintain calm and even find pleasure in the pain.

They also explained how to accept punishment in a way that pleased the master more. "Do not cry out too loudly," Li Que instructed. "It disturbs the rhythm. Soft whimpers are acceptable. Begging is encouraged, but only if you genuinely mean it. Never try to dodge. Arch your back, present your bottom fully. The more you open yourself to the blows, the more the master will favor you."

When the guidance concluded, Xuanfa raised his hand. A ripple of spiritual energy passed through the plaza. Thousands of small jade bottles appeared before each disciple, hovering in the air.

"Cultivation pills," Xuanfa said. "Take one per day for the next month. Your bodies will grow stronger, your dantian more resilient. Those who excel will receive further rewards."

Some of the disciples—those who had shown particular promise—found small magic implements appearing beside their pills. A bracelet that could amplify defense, a ring that stored healing energy, a pendant that could summon a gentle breeze to cool a punished bottom. The recipients bowed deeply, tears of gratitude streaming down their faces.

"Now," Xuanfa said, his cold gaze sweeping the crowd, "the five who applied for elevation to female slave—step forward."

Five women emerged from the ranks of the disciples. They were of varying ages and cultivations, but all shared the same look: a mixture of terror and desperate hope. They knelt before Xuanfa, pressing their foreheads to the ground.

"You understand what this means?" Xuanfa asked.

"Yes, master," they said in unison.

"You will wear the collar. You will crawl like dogs. Your bottoms will know the board more often than any other part of your body. You will have no dignity, no privacy, no freedom. You exist only to serve and to be punished. Do you accept?"

"We accept."

Xuanfa snapped his fingers. Five slave collars appeared in his hands. He fastened them around the women's necks, one by one. The collars clicked shut, and the women shuddered as the enchantments took hold—binding their cultivation slightly, ensuring they could not remove the collars by force.

"Crawl to your position," Xuanfa commanded.

The five new female slaves immediately dropped to all fours and crawled toward the area where the other female slave elders knelt. They took their places at the end of the rows, their bottoms raised high, trembling.

Xuanfa turned to face the altar. The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board floated in the air, pulsing with a dark light.

"The spanking of the female slave elders begins," he announced. "Fifty of you. Two hundred strikes each. You will not dodge. You will not flee. You will endure."

The female slave elders arranged themselves in five rows of ten, each woman kneeling with her bottom raised. The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board shimmered and multiplied, becoming fifty identical boards, each hovering above a victim.

Xuanfa raised his hand. "Begin."

The boards fell.

The sound was deafening—fifty wooden boards striking fifty bare bottoms at once, a crack that echoed across the entire sect. The women's bodies jerked, but none cried out. Not yet.

The second blow fell. Then the third. The fourth.

By the tenth spank, some of the women began to whimper. By the twentieth, tears flowed freely. By the fiftieth, many were sobbing openly, their bottoms already bright red, the skin beginning to darken with bruises. But they held their positions. They did not try to dodge. They did not beg for mercy that they knew would not come.

Lin Qiaoxin watched from her position beside Xuanfa, her eyes bright with approval. "They're doing well, master," she murmured.

Xuanfa said nothing. His gaze was fixed on the punishment.

The boards continued to fall. One hundred spanks. One hundred fifty. The women's bottoms were now a deep, angry purple, the skin blistered in some places. Blood began to bead on the worst injuries. Still, they endured.

At two hundred spanks, the boards stopped. The fifty women collapsed forward, gasping, sobbing, but alive. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably. Many were weeping openly.

Xuanfa waved his hand. The boards dispersed. "You have done well. Rest. Heal. Tomorrow, there will be more."

The women crawled away, their ruined bottoms still raised as they moved. Some left trails of blood on the stone floor.

Now came the main event.

"Grand elder female slaves," Xuanfa said, his voice dropping slightly, "approach."

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue crawled forward on hands and knees, their bodies gleaming in the morning light. Lin Qiaoxin's youthful figure was lithe and smooth, her small breasts swaying as she moved. Li Que's athletic form was all muscle and grace, her red hair cascading down her back. Shen Mengyue's body was the most striking—waist-length black hair, fair skin, a mature woman's curves that combined purity and allure in a way that made even the female disciples catch their breath.

The three knelt before Xuanfa and kowtowed deeply, pressing their foreheads to the ground three times.

Then they straightened, knelt properly, and raised their plump bottoms high into the air. Their buttocks were still smooth, unmarked from the healing they had received after previous punishments. But that was about to change.

"Five hundred spanks," Xuanfa said. "Each of you."

"Yes, master," they said in unison.

The Heaven's Dao Wooden Board floated above them, now a single entity again. It crackled with power.

"Lin Qiaoxin," Xuanfa said, "you first."

The board crashed down.

Lin Qiaoxin's body jerked forward, but she caught herself. A gasp escaped her lips. The board fell again, and again, a steady rhythm that filled the plaza. By the fiftieth spank, her bottom was a cherry red. By the hundredth, she was whimpering, her twin-tails shaking with each blow. But she did not cry out loudly.

"Master," she gasped between spanks, "I—I love your punishment. It—it makes me feel alive."

Xuanfa did not respond. The board continued.

At two hundred spanks, her bottom was dark crimson, the skin taut and swollen. She was crying openly now, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she kept her bottom raised.

"Li Que," Xuanfa commanded.

The board turned to the red-haired woman. It struck her with even greater force. Li Que grunted, her muscles tensing. She had always been the proudest, the hardest to break. But she had been broken thoroughly.

"Two hundred," she said through gritted teeth. "Is that all the master has? I've taken worse."

Xuanfa's eyes narrowed. The board struck harder.

Li Que cried out, unable to suppress it. Her body shook violently. "Please—master—more—I deserve more—"

The board obliged. Three hundred spanks. She was sobbing openly now, her pride shattered, her bottom a mess of bruises and broken skin.

"Shen Mengyue," Xuanfa said.

The former sect leader raised her bottom higher,

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