Punishment of the Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa

The sun hung low over the Verdant Peaks, casting long shadows across the jade-tiled courtyard of the Immortal Xia Sect. This was a world where the qi of heaven and earth flowed like rivers through the veins of cultivators, where realms rose from the humble Qi Refining to the lofty Foundation Establishment, the solid Core Formation, the transcendent Nascent Soul, and finally the godlike Divinity Transformation. Women outnumbered men in the cultivation world by a wide margin, and male cultivators, though few, were often elite—and held a peculiar power. By spanking a female cultivator’s bare buttocks, a man could claim her as his slave, and the act accelerated the cultivation of both parties. Most women resisted this fate with every fiber of their being.

Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa walked the path to the Immortal Xia Sect’s main gate, his black training robes stark against the verdant scenery. His face was a mask of cold handsomeness, his eyes like chips of ice. He had come because a disciple of this all-female sect had been foolish enough to offend him—a minor slight, but he never let such things slide. Spanking women was his greatest pleasure, and the Immortal Xia Sect would provide ample opportunity.

The gate guards, two young women in black-and-white Daoist robes, spotted him from a distance. One of them, a Core Formation cultivator with a sharp chin, stepped forward. “Halt! State your business, visitor.”

Xuanfa did not slow his pace. “I am Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa. One of your disciples insulted me earlier today. I am here to settle the matter.”

The guard’s eyes widened. The name Xuanfa was known—a Great Perfection Nascent Soul cultivator, one of the strongest in the world. But the Immortal Xia Sect had its pride. “You cannot simply barge in. Our sect leader will—“

“Move aside,” Xuanfa said, his voice flat. He raised a finger, and a thread of invisible force shot out, striking the guard in the chest. She flew backward, crashing into the gate with a loud crack.

The other guard drew her sword, but before she could attack, Xuanfa flicked his wrist. Her blade shattered, and she stumbled back, gasping. “Go fetch your sect leader,” he said. “Tell her to prepare every disciple in the sect. I will spank each and every one of you.”

The guard fled into the sect, her footsteps echoing on the stone path. Xuanfa followed at a leisurely pace, his hands clasped behind his back.

Inside the Immortal Xia Sect, chaos erupted. Disciples in training robes, white with black trim, scrambled to form ranks in the main courtyard. At the center stood Shen Mengyue, the sect leader. Her waist-length black hair flowed like silk, her face a blend of ethereal purity and seductive charm. She wore the same black-and-white Daoist robes as her disciples, but hers were embroidered with golden thread at the cuffs. Her realm was Mid Nascent Soul, and a sword of pale blue light hung at her side.

“Sect Leader,” the fleeing guard gasped, kneeling before her. “Xuanfa is here. He says we offended him. He struck Senior Sister Li and intends to spank the entire sect.”

Shen Mengyue’s gentle expression hardened. She had heard of Xuanfa’s habits. “He will not lay a hand on my disciples. Form a defense array. I will face him.”

The disciples moved quickly, forming a circular formation around the courtyard. Shen Mengyue stepped forward, her sword drawn. The blade hummed with spiritual energy, a soft azure glow emanating from its edge.

Xuanfa entered the courtyard and stopped, surveying the scene. His eyes found Shen Mengyue, and a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of interest crossed his face. “You are the sect leader,” he said. It was not a question.

“I am Shen Mengyue.” Her voice was cool, but her grip on the sword was firm. “State your grievance, and I will see it addressed.”

“Your disciple insulted me,” Xuanfa said. “I do not recall the exact words, nor do I care. The price is clear: every woman in this sect will bare her buttocks and receive my discipline. Today, and every day for three years, one hundred strokes of the Mysterious Wood Board.”

Shen Mengyue’s jaw tightened. “You are mad. We are not slaves to be beaten.”

“You will be,” Xuanfa said. “Or you can resist, and the price will increase.”

Shen Mengyue did not hesitate. She lunged forward, her sword slicing through the air in a crescent arc of blue energy. Xuanfa sidestepped, the movement almost lazy. He raised two fingers and tapped the flat of her blade. The impact sent a shockwave rippling up her arm, and she stumbled.

He was faster than she had anticipated. She adjusted, spinning and unleashing a flurry of strikes—thrusts, slashes, overhead chops. Each one was met with a precise finger tap, a deflection that sent her blade wide. Xuanfa moved like water, never wasting a motion.

Shen Mengyue channeled her qi into a massive sword projection, a blade of light that extended ten feet. She brought it down with all her strength. Xuanfa raised a single finger. The tip glowed with an intense black light, and he touched the sword projection. The entire construct shattered into motes of dissipating energy.

She was losing. She could feel it in the strain of her muscles, the shortness of her breath. Xuanfa had not even broken a sweat. He was using only a fraction of his power—she guessed perhaps seventy percent. And still she could not land a single blow.

He stepped in close, his finger extended. She tried to retreat, but he was faster. His finger pressed against her lower abdomen, and a spike of qi shot into her dantian. Her cultivation base locked up, her spiritual energy frozen. Her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground, her sword clattering beside her.

Xuanfa stood over her, looking down with cold indifference. Shen Mengyue lay on her back, her robes rumpled, her hair splayed across the stone. She stared up at him, terror flickering in her eyes. She had never been so completely defeated. He was a monster.

“You fought well,” Xuanfa said, his voice devoid of praise. “But resistance has a price. The Immortal Xia Sect will receive one hundred strokes of the Mysterious Wood Board daily for three years. Every disciple. Including you, sect leader.”

Shen Mengyue’s lips parted, but no words came. She could only watch as he turned and addressed the gathered disciples, who stood frozen in shock.

“Line up,” Xuanfa said. “Strip from the waist down. The punishment begins now.”

A sob escaped from one of the younger disciples. Another began to cry. Shen Mengyue struggled to rise, but her qi remained sealed. She could only lie there, helpless, as her sect faced the first day of a three-year ordeal.

Fifteen years had passed in the Heavenly Realm. For Li Que, the days had blurred into a monotonous rhythm of pain and submission. Every morning, she knelt beside Lin Qiaoxin in the chamber Xuanfa had designated for their discipline. Their buttocks were raised high, faces pressed to the cold stone floor, as the Heavenly Dao Board descended in measured strokes. Two hundred strokes daily. The wooden board, imbued with celestial law, struck with precision, each impact sending a sharp crack through the room. Li Que had learned to count the strokes, to brace herself, but the pain never dulled. It flared hot across her cheeks, spreading in waves that left her trembling.

Yet in the past few years, something had shifted. When the board landed, a strange tingling followed the sting. A warmth pooled low in her belly, and after the session, when she was allowed to rise, she felt a dampness between her thighs. She never spoke of it. She would glance at Lin Qiaoxin, who knelt beside her with her twintails brushing the floor, and wonder if the same happened to her. Lin Qiaoxin’s playful nature had not dimmed; after each spanking, she would catch Li Que’s eye and wink, a knowing glimmer in her gaze. Li Que’s cheeks would burn, but she said nothing.

Their daily life also included the leash. Xuanfa would beckon them with a single finger, and they would crawl to him, naked as female dogs, their hands and knees scuffing the ground. He would clip a leather leash to the collar around each of their necks—Lin Qiaoxin’s red, Li Que’s black—and lead them through the palace halls. They crawled side by side, their breasts swaying, their buttocks still pink from the morning’s strokes. Li Que had once been proud, believing herself invincible at the same realm. Now she crawled without shame, her submission as natural as breathing.

One afternoon, after the daily two hundred strokes, they knelt before Xuanfa. He sat on a jade throne, his black training robes immaculate, his face an unreadable mask. Lin Qiaoxin spoke first, her voice light. “Heavenly Venerable, we have a question.”

Xuanfa’s eyes, cold and piercing, fixed on her. “Speak.”

“What do you like most?” Lin Qiaoxin asked. “What brings you the greatest pleasure?”

Li Que added, her tone respectful but direct, “We wish to serve you more fully. Tell us what delights you.”

Xuanfa’s lips curled into the faintest smile, a rare sight. “What I love most is to see female cultivators spanked and tormented. Their suffering strengthens my psyche and cultivates my power. Their cries, their tears, their broken pride—these are the offerings that please me most.”

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que exchanged a glance. Li Que spoke, “Then we have an opportunity, Heavenly Venerable. The entire cultivation world knows that Shen Mengyue, the Immortal Xia Sect leader, was stripped naked by you and made to kneel before the sect’s main hall, her buttocks raised for your spanking. But not everyone knows that Lin Qiaoxin, the formation genius, and Li Que, the vice leader of the Vermilion Gate, have become your female slaves.”

Lin Qiaoxin continued, “We propose a spectacle. Take us, crawling naked on leads like female dogs, to the highest rooftop of Wuling City. Have Shen Mengyue’s disciple lead her by a dog leash to the same rooftop. There, all three of us would kneel in a row, upper bodies prone, lower bodies with buttocks raised high. You summon the Heavenly Dao Boards to spank us automatically. They would beat our buttocks until they are completely wrecked—so damaged that even cultivators would need a week to recover. Then you force our legs open and harshly whip the cracks between our buttocks, ensuring our anuses and vaginas are swollen and raw. Finally, you insert anal hooks into our red and swollen anuses and hang us up for a week in public. Surely, this would please you.”

Xuanfa listened, his expression unchanging, but a flicker of interest lit his eyes. He nodded slowly. “The plan is acceptable. It will indeed please me.”

Li Que and Lin Qiaoxin bowed their heads. But then Xuanfa raised a hand. “Before that, I wish to try a new punishment. Something to sharpen your endurance.”

He gestured, and a servant brought a jade bowl filled with a golden liquid—freshly squeezed ginger juice from divine ginger, potent enough to burn through flesh. The pungent scent filled the air, sharp and acrid.

“Kneel,” Xuanfa ordered. “Raise your buttocks. Spread your anuses with your own hands.”

Li Que’s heart raced, but she obeyed. She turned around, pressing her upper body to the floor, and reached back with both hands. Her fingers found her anus, and she pulled the cheeks apart, exposing the tight ring. Beside her, Lin Qiaoxin did the same, her fingers spreading herself open. The position was humiliating, but they held it.

Xuanfa took the bowl. He walked behind each of them, pausing. “Do not move.”

He poured the ginger juice directly into Lin Qiaoxin’s anus first. The liquid flowed in, hot and searing. Lin Qiaoxin screamed—a raw, agonized cry that tore through the chamber. Her body convulsed, her knees skidding on the floor as she tried to escape, but Xuanfa’s hand pressed her lower back, holding her in place. The ginger juice felt like a red-hot iron rod being thrust into her intestines, burning and clawing from the inside. Her vision blurred with tears. She gasped, sobbing, her fingers digging into the floor.

Then Xuanfa turned to Li Que. She braced herself, but nothing could prepare her for the sensation. The ginger juice poured into her anus, and fire exploded in her gut. It was as if liquid lightning had been injected into her bowels, spreading through her abdomen in waves of scorching heat. She screamed, her body arching, her hands clawing at the stone. The pain was beyond anything she had felt from the spankings—deep, internal, relentless. She could feel the juice settling inside her, coating her intestinal walls, burning her from within.

When both were drenched in the liquid, Xuanfa set down the bowl. “The daily two hundred strokes will now begin. You will not lose control and spray intestinal fluid during the spanking. If you do, you will receive an extra one hundred strokes.”

The Heavenly Dao Board materialized above them, glowing with a pale light. Li Que’s body trembled, her anus clenched against the burning liquid. She tried to hold it in, but the pain was a living thing inside her.

The first stroke fell. The board slammed into Li Que’s right cheek, and the impact jarred her. A spasm ran through her abdomen. The ginger juice churned, pushing against her sphincter. She gritted her teeth, squeezing her muscles tight. The second stroke struck her left cheek, and the pain of the spanking combined with the internal burn. A sob escaped her.

Lin Qiaoxin was faring no better. With each stroke, she gasped and writhed, her hands clutching her head. The third, fourth, fifth strokes came in rapid succession, each one sending a shockwave through her buttocks. Her anus pulsed, and she could feel the liquid pressing to escape. She tried to breathe, to control it, but the board kept falling.

Tenth stroke. Fifteenth. By the twentieth stroke, Li Que’s control shattered. The ginger juice, hot and slippery, forced its way out. A spray of golden liquid shot from her anus, splattering onto the floor. She cried out, shame and pain mingling.

“Failure,” Xuanfa said, his voice cold. “Extra one hundred strokes.”

Lin Qiaoxin lost control a few strokes later. The liquid gushed from her, streaming down her thighs. She sobbed, her body shuddering.

“Failure as well,” Xuanfa said. “Extra one hundred strokes for both of you.”

The Heavenly Dao Board did not pause. It continued its relentless rhythm, now three hundred strokes total for each of them. Li Que’s buttocks turned from pink to red, then to a deep crimson. The skin grew hot, swelling with each impact. The liquid inside her had mostly emptied, but the burning sensation lingered, and the agony of the spanking mounted.

At fifty strokes, Li Que could not hold her position. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto her side. Xuanfa stepped forward and kicked her back into place, his boot pressing her lower back. “Stay.”

She screamed as the board landed again, the pain now a constant roar. Her buttocks were a mass of welts, the skin glistening with moisture from the ginger juice and her own sweat. The board focused on the same spots, pummeling the same bruises until they cracked.

Lin Qiaoxin, beside her, was in similar agony. The board had drawn blood on her cheeks, small droplets beading on the swollen flesh. She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached, but the screams escaped anyway.

One hundred strokes. Two hundred. The floor beneath them became slick with the spray of ginger juice and tears. Their cries filled the chamber, echoing off the walls. At three hundred strokes, the board finally stopped.

Li Que and Lin Qiaoxin lay on the floor, their buttocks unrecognizable—black and blue, mottled with red, split in places. The skin was hot to the touch, and the slightest movement sent a spike of pain through their bodies. They gasped for breath, their limbs trembling.

Xuanfa looked down at them, his expression satisfied. “You have earned your punishment. Tomorrow, we prepare for Wuling City.”

The morning sun cast long shadows across the ancient cobblestones of Wuling City as Xuanfa strode through the main gate, the twin dog leashes in his hand leading two naked women crawling behind him. Lin Qiaoxin kept her head low, her black twin-tails brushing the ground as she moved on hands and knees, the red marks and deep purple bruises across her rounded buttocks catching the light with each swaying movement. Beside her, Li Que crawled with stiff pride, her red ponytail hanging forward, the athletic curves of her tall frame on full display for every passing cultivator to see.

The marketplace fell silent. Merchants stopped their haggling. Children were pulled behind their mothers' robes. Old cultivators who had seen centuries of wonders gaped openly at the sight of two female Nascent Soul experts crawling naked through the streets like common beasts.

"By the heavens..." a young swordsman whispered, his hand frozen halfway to his sword hilt.

"Is that Lin Qiaoxin, the formation genius?" an elder woman murmured, her voice carrying through the quiet space.

"And Li Que of the Vermilion Gate? The one who never loses at her realm?"

Lin Qiaoxin's thighs trembled as she crawled, and not from shame. The ginger juice packed deep inside her bowels burned with a sharp, relentless fire that seemed to grow hotter with every movement. Each shift of her hips sent fresh waves of spicy agony through her core, making her breath catch. She bit her lower lip to keep from moaning. Beside her, Li Que's jaw was clenched so tight that a muscle jumped in her cheek. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool morning air. The same fiery torment filled her insides, an invisible punishment that made the visible bruises on her buttocks seem like a mild discomfort by comparison.

Xuanfa walked steadily toward the central plaza, his black training clothes immaculate, his face utterly expressionless. He did not look back at his crawling attendants. He did not acknowledge the gasps and whispers that followed them like a wake. He simply walked, and they followed.

Ahead, the great staircase rose to the main platform of Wuling City's central square, where a raised dais of white stone awaited. But before they reached it, another commotion drew the crowd's attention.

From a side street, a young woman in plain disciple robes emerged, a dog leash in her trembling hand. At the other end of the leash, crawling on hands and knees, was Shen Mengyue.

The former sect leader of the Immortal Xia Sect moved with a stiffness that spoke of muscles held rigid against every instinct. Her waist-length black hair dragged through the dust, strands catching on pebbles and debris. Her fair skin, once the envy of every female cultivator in the eastern provinces, was now bared to all. The bruises from her last punishment had faded to a pale yellow, but new red marks crossed her thighs—marks from the rope that had bound her wrists for three days.

"Look, it's Shen Mengyue!" a merchant cried out, pointing.

"She's being led like a dog too!"

Shen Mengyue's eyes were fixed on the cobblestones directly in front of her hands. She could not bear to lift her gaze. Every face she saw would be another scar on her soul. She had been a sect leader. She had commanded thousands of disciples. She had sat in judgment over cultivators who now stood in this very crowd, watching her crawl naked through the streets.

*They remember me,* she thought, her mind a whirlpool of despair. *They remember me as the one who presided over the Four Sects Conference. They remember me as the one who lectured them on cultivation ethics. And now they see me like this.*

A child's voice pierced the murmuring crowd. "Mother, why is that lady crawling? Is she a dog?"

"Hush, child."

"But she has no clothes on! And her bottom is all red like the peaches in the market!"

Shen Mengyue's stomach clenched. The ginger juice inside her roiled, sending a fresh spike of burning pain through her abdomen. She gasped despite herself, a small, sharp sound that drew more eyes.

The disciple leading her—one of her own former followers, now conscripted into this duty by Xuanfa's decree—kept her face averted. Her hands shook as she held the leash, but she did not dare release it. No one dared defy the Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa.

*This is worse than death,* Shen Mengyue thought as she crawled, her knees scraping against the rough stone. *Death would have been merciful. Death would have been a release. But he keeps me alive. He keeps me breathing. He keeps me... crawling.*

Her fingers curled into fists against the ground. The nails bit into her palms.

*I have been spanked in public. I have been displayed naked before the entire cultivation world. And now I crawl through Wuling City like an animal. Is there any depth of humiliation he will not explore?*

The three women converged at the base of the staircase leading to the central dais. Xuanfa stopped and turned for the first time since entering the city. His gaze swept over the three kneeling forms before him—Lin Qiaoxin, whose playful eyes now held a strange glint of excitement; Li Que, whose proud jaw was set against the pain; and Shen Mengyue, whose entire body radiated shame.

"Crawl," he said, and his voice was like winter wind through dead branches. "All the way to the top."

He began to climb the stairs. Lin Qiaoxin crawled after him immediately, her bruised buttocks swaying, the ginger fire making her movements quick and jerky. Li Que followed, muscles straining, her pride warring with her submission with every step. The disciple released Shen Mengyue's leash, and the former sect leader was left to crawl alone.

The staircase seemed endless. Each step required Shen Mengyue to lift her knees, shift her weight, feel the cool stone against her palms. The crowd followed, a river of faces that lined both sides of the stairs. Some pointed. Some whispered. Some laughed.

"Is that really Shen Mengyue?"

"I heard she was stripped naked and spanked like a child!"

"And now she crawls—look at how red her bottom still is!"

A young man whistled. "Still a fine figure, even crawling in the dirt."

Shen Mengyue's vision blurred with unshed tears. She blinked them back furiously. She would not cry. Not here. Not in front of them.

At the top of the stairs, the central dais spread out in a perfect white circle, surrounded by stone pillars carved with ancient runes. Xuanfa stood at the center, the morning light falling across his handsome, merciless face. Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que had already taken their places on either side of him, still on hands and knees, their heads bowed.

Shen Mengyue crawled the last few steps and stopped, waiting.

Xuanfa looked down at the three women, then at the crowd that had gathered below the dais—hundreds of cultivators, merchants, and citizens, all craning their necks for a better view.

"These three women," Xuanfa announced, his voice carrying effortlessly across the square, "have been judged by me and found wanting. They have submitted to my authority and accepted my punishment. Today, they will receive a lesson that even cultivators will remember."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Lin Qiaoxin. Li Que. Shen Mengyue. Kneel in a row. Upper body prone. Buttocks raised."

Lin Qiaoxin moved first, her movements almost eager. She lay flat on her stomach, then arched her lower back, pushing her rounded buttocks high into the air. The deep purple bruises across her cheeks stretched and tightened with the position, the contrast of pale skin and dark marks stark in the morning light. She spread her knees slightly apart, offering herself fully.

Li Que followed, her movements more mechanical, her pride evident in the way she held her spine rigid before forcing herself into the humiliating pose. Her athletic buttocks rose, the muscles tensing, the red marks from earlier punishment still vivid across the curve of each cheek.

Shen Mengyue was last. Her entire body shook as she lowered herself to the stone, as she lifted her hips, as she presented her bare, bruised backside to the crowd that had once respected her. Her face pressed against the cool white stone, and she closed her eyes, trying to disappear into the darkness behind her lids.

*This is what I have become,* she thought. *A spectacle. A warning. A lesson.*

Xuanfa raised his hand, and the sky above the dais shimmered. Three boards of pure white light materialized, each one the length of a forearm and the width of a hand. They hovered in the air, rotating slowly, humming with contained power.

"Heavenly Dao Boards," someone in the crowd breathed. "I've only read about those in ancient texts!"

"Each strike carries the authority of heaven's judgment," another said. "Even a Nascent Soul cultivator would feel every blow."

Xuanfa pointed at Lin Qiaoxin, and the first board descended.

*CRACK.*

The sound was sharp and final, echoing off the stone pillars. Lin Qiaoxin's body jerked forward, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. A fresh red mark bloomed across the left cheek of her buttocks, stark against the existing bruises.

*CRACK.*

The second strike landed on the right cheek, perfectly symmetrical. Lin Qiaoxin's hands clenched against the stone, her knuckles white, but she made no other sound.

*CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.*

The board struck with mechanical precision, each blow landing in a new spot, methodically covering every inch of her buttocks. The skin reddened, then darkened to purple, then began to swell. The ginger juice inside her seemed to react to the impact, sending waves of fiery pain through her core with every hit.

*CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.*

Lin Qiaoxin's legs trembled. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. But a small smile played at the corner of her lips. *This is for him,* she thought. *This pain is my offering. Every bruise, every mark—it proves I belong to him.*

The board moved to Li Que.

*CRACK.*

She had been ready, but the force still surprised her. Her body bucked, her hips rising higher as if trying to escape, but she forced herself back down.

*CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.*

Each blow landed with the same merciless precision. Li Que's teeth ground together. She would not cry out. She would not. She had presented herself willingly. She had chosen this submission. And she would bear it with the same pride she had once borne her victories.

*CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.*

The board beat her buttocks into submission. The skin split in small places, droplets of blood beading on the surface. Still she held her position, her muscles locked, her breath controlled.

*I serve a master who is stronger than me,* she thought, the pain a clarifying fire in her mind. *This is the price of that service. And I will pay it in full.*

Then the board turned to Shen Mengyue.

*CRACK.*

The first strike landed and she screamed.

The sound tore from her throat before she could stop it, raw and broken. The pain was beyond anything she had prepared for—not just physical but spiritual, the board carrying the weight of heaven's judgment, the weight of her shame, the weight of every eye in the crowd watching her writhe.

*CRACK. CRACK.*

The second and third strikes fell in rapid succession, and Shen Mengyue's composure shattered. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the dust on the stone. Her hips twisted involuntarily, trying to avoid the next blow, but the board followed her movements, landing with unerring accuracy.

*CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.*

"I can't..." she whimpered. "Please... I can't..."

But the board showed no mercy. It beat her buttocks relentlessly, turning the pale skin to a tapestry of red and purple and black. The flesh swelled until the shape of her cheeks was barely recognizable, just two mounds of abused tissue rising from her hips.

*CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.*

The crowd watched in silence, some with morbid fascination, some with pity, some with barely concealed excitement. A hundred strikes fell on each woman, the boards moving in perfect synchronizatio

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

The week hanging from the anal hooks was an eternity of torment for Shen Mengyue. The physical pain was constant, a burning ache that radiated through her lower body with every involuntary movement. But it was the spiritual humiliation that truly broke her spirit. During those first days, she had at least been shielded from public view, her shame witnessed only by the disciples of the Immortal Xia Sect. Now she hung suspended above the main square of Wuling City, naked and exposed for all to see.

Merchants averted their eyes. Children pointed and whispered. Cultivators from passing sects stared with a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. Shen Mengyue's face burned crimson as she heard their murmurs drift upward like poisonous smoke.

"Is that the sect leader of Immortal Xia?"

"The one the Heavenly Venerable spanked bare-bottomed?"

"I heard she was punished in front of her entire sect..."

Shen Mengyue squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. She had been a respected Nascent Soul cultivator, a leader of thousands. Now she was a spectacle, a cautionary tale displayed for the amusement of a city.

Lin Qiaoxin, hanging to her left, swung gently on her hook. "You know, Sister Shen, if you just accept it, it's not so bad. Master is fair, after all. He punishes, but he also protects."

"Shut up," Shen Mengyue whispered through clenched teeth.

Li Que laughed from her right, her red hair hanging like a fiery curtain. "Still stubborn, even now. You'll learn. We all do."

The week passed in agonizing slowness. Shen Mengyue lost count of the days, measuring time only by the rising and setting of the sun. Her anus had gone numb, then painful, then numb again. The hunger was manageable, but the thirst was a constant torture. She had been fed water once, perhaps twice. She couldn't remember.

When the seventh morning dawned, Shen Mengyue barely registered the commotion around her. The people of Wuling City had grown used to the sight of three naked women hanging above the square. Some even brought offerings of food and drink, which were swatted away by invisible barriers.

Then she felt herself descending.

The hooks lowered slowly, agonizingly, until her feet touched the cold stone of the square. Her legs buckled immediately, unable to support her weight. She collapsed, her arms still bound behind her back.

A figure stepped into her field of vision. Black training clothes. Aloof, handsome face. No expression.

Xuanfa.

"Seven days," he said, his voice flat. "You have endured the punishment for your earlier transgression against me. Now a choice remains."

Shen Mengyue looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen.

"You may enter the Heavenly Realm voluntarily," Xuanfa continued. "Become my female slave, and your sect will be protected. Refuse, and you will return to the Immortal Xia Sect, stripped of your dignity, your authority broken. Your disciples will always remember their sect leader's bare buttocks raised for the Heavenly Venerable's spanking."

Shen Mengyue's body shook. She crawled forward as best she could, pressing her forehead to the ground.

"Heavenly Venerable, I beg you," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I have been punished for my offense. The spanking, the exposure, these seven days of hanging—please, let this be enough. I do not wish to become a slave. I beg the Heavenly Venerable to show mercy."

Xuanfa's eyes narrowed. "Obstinate."

He snapped his fingers.

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que, who had been released from their hooks and now knelt nearby, rose immediately. They approached Shen Mengyue with eager steps.

"Grip her buttocks," Xuanfa ordered. "Spread her anus."

"What? No—" Shen Mengyue struggled, but invisible forces seized her, forcing her body into a familiar position. Kneeling. Back arched. Buttocks raised high and exposed.

Lin Qiaoxin knelt behind her, her small hands gripping Shen Mengyue's full cheeks and pulling them apart. The stretched pink hole of her anus lay open to the air. Li Que held Shen Mengyue's legs to keep her from kicking.

Shen Mengyue felt something cold pressed against her anus. She twisted her head and saw Xuanfa holding a thin clay bottle.

"Ginger juice," he said calmly. "A stimulant for the intestines. It will teach you humility."

He tipped the bottle.

The liquid was cold at first, seeping into her anus with a wet trickling sensation. Shen Mengyue held her breath, waiting. Then the burning began.

It started as a warmth, then became heat, then became fire. Ginger juice spread through her intestines like liquid flame, coating every fold, every crevice with searing pain. Shen Mengyue screamed. She thrashed against the invisible bonds, her body convulsing, her anus clenching and unclenching in desperate spasms. But the burning only grew worse.

"Please!" she shrieked. "Please, stop! It burns! It burns so much!"

"Your struggling is forbidden," Xuanfa said.

Another invisible force pressed down on Shen Mengyue's back, forcing her deeper into the kneeling, buttocks-raised position. Her face was pressed against the stone, her teeth grinding in agony.

Xuanfa produced two boards. They were made of a dark, heavy wood, inscribed with runes that glowed faintly. Heavenly Dao Boards.

He handed one to Lin Qiaoxin and one to Li Que.

"Spank her buttocks," he ordered. "Hard. For each stroke, she must say, 'Thank you, Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking.' If she fails to speak, pour more ginger juice into her anus."

Lin Qiaoxin accepted the board with a cheerful grin. "Yes, Master!"

Li Que weighed hers in her hand. "This will be satisfying."

The first stroke fell before Shen Mengyue could prepare. The board cracked against her right buttock with a sound like thunder. Pain exploded through her flesh, bright and sharp. She screamed again.

"Your words," Xuanfa prompted.

"Thank... thank you..." Shen Mengyue gasped, the ginger juice burning in her bowels, "thank you, Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking!"

The second stroke hit her left buttock.

"Thank you, Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking!"

The third, the fourth, the fifth. Shen Mengyue's buttocks began to redden, then purple, then dark with bruising. The boards rose and fell with mechanical precision. Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que alternated strokes, one after the other, giving Shen Mengyue no time to recover.

"Thank you—ah!—thank you, Heavenly—" she gasped between sobs, "—thank you, Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking!"

After thirty strokes, her voice had become a broken whisper.

"Thank... you... Heavenly... Venerable..."

After forty, she couldn't form words, just wailing.

Lin Qiaoxin paused, looking at Xuanfa. "Master, she isn't speaking clearly."

Xuanfa nodded. "Pour more ginger juice."

"No!" Shen Mengyue screamed. "No, please, I'll speak! I'll speak!"

Li Que grabbed her buttocks again, spreading them wide. Lin Qiaoxin tipped another bottle of ginger juice into Shen Mengyue's anus. The new liquid mingled with the old, renewing the burning with fresh agony.

Shen Mengyue's cry was inhuman, a sound of pure suffering.

They resumed the spanking. The boards rose and fell, each stroke a lesson in submission.

"Thank you, Heavenly Venerable Xuanfa, for spanking!"

Fifty strokes. Sixty. The buttocks were no match for the Heavenly Dao Boards. Shen Mengyue's entire lower body was a canvas of pain, every nerve ending screaming.

At sixty-three strokes, she broke.

"Stop!" she cried, her voice cracking. "Please, stop! I beg the Heavenly Venerable for mercy! I will become your female slave! Only please, do not harm the disciples of the Immortal Xia Sect! Protect them, and I will serve you!"

Xuanfa raised his hand, and the spanking ceased.

"You swear it?" he asked.

"I swear it!" Shen Mengyue wept. "On my cultivation, on my soul, I swear it! I will become your female slave, only please protect my sect!"

"Agreed," Xuanfa said.

He snapped his fingers, and the world dissolved around them.

Shen Mengyue felt herself falling, tumbling through a void of white light. When her vision cleared, she was kneeling on a cloud, surrounded by an endless blue sky. The Heavenly Realm.

A slave collar formed around her neck, warm and tight. The same type of collar she had seen on Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que. It pulsed with a soft glow, linking her to Xuanfa's will.

Shen Mengyue knew the rules of the Heavenly Realm. She had been told them while hanging from her hook. A female slave must accept any punishment her master decrees.

She crawled forward, her body trembling, and knelt before Xuanfa. Then she pressed her forehead to the cloud, raised her plump, bruised buttocks high into the air, and spread her knees wide.

"I am ready," she whispered. "Please, Master, give me two hundred strokes of the Heavenly Dao Board."

Xuanfa took one of the boards from Lin Qiaoxin. He weighed it in his hand, then stepped behind Shen Mengyue.

"Count."

The board rose.

*CRACK!*

"One! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

Shen Mengyue's voice broke on the word. The ginger juice still burned in her intestines, and her buttocks were already swollen and bruised from the previous punishment. Every stroke was a fresh agony.

*CRACK!*

"Two! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

The board landed on the same spot, layering pain upon pain. Shen Mengyue's body convulsed, but she forced herself to remain in position. She had learned. Struggling only made things worse.

*CRACK!*

"Three! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que knelt nearby, watching with expressions of satisfaction. Li Que's eyes were bright as she observed her new fellow slave's punishment.

"Remember," Li Que said softly, "you chose this. You begged for it."

Shen Mengyue didn't respond. She couldn't. Her world had narrowed to the rhythm of the board and the requirement to speak.

*CRACK!*

"Four! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

Xuanfa's strokes were precise, each one landing with exact force. Not too hard, not too soft. He was teaching her, breaking her will with relentless consistency.

By the fiftieth stroke, Shen Mengyue's buttocks were a solid mass of purple-black bruising. The skin had broken in several places, and thin lines of blood traced down her thighs.

*CRACK!*

"Fifty! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

By the hundredth, her voice was gone, reduced to a raw whisper. Tears and snot mingled on her face, and her body shook with involuntary sobs.

*CRACK!*

"One hundred... thank you... Master... for spanking..."

Xuanfa paused. "Water."

Lin Qiaoxin hurried forward with a gourd. She lifted it to Shen Mengyue's lips and poured cool water into her parched mouth. Shen Mengyue drank greedily, life returning to her exhausted body.

Then the board resumed.

*CRACK!*

"One hundred and one! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

The pain was no longer localized. It radiated through her entire body, through her soul. She felt as though she were being unmade and remade, her pride stripped away layer by layer.

By the hundred and fiftieth stroke, Shen Mengyue had stopped fighting. She accepted the pain as she accepted the board, as she accepted her master's will. Her body was his to punish, her spirit his to shape.

*CRACK!*

"One hundred and fifty... Thank you, Master..."

*CRACK!*

"One hundred and fifty-one... Thank you..."

*CRACK!*

"One hundred and fifty-two..."

Xuanfa continued without mercy. The last fifty strokes were the hardest, for Shen Mengyue had nothing left. No strength, no voice, no will. She was a vessel of pain, empty and waiting to be filled with something new.

*CRACK!*

"One hundred and ninety-nine! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

The final stroke.

*CRACK!*

"Two hundred! Thank you, Master, for spanking!"

The board lowered. Shen Mengyue collapsed, her face pressed into the cloud, her ruined buttocks still raised. She couldn't move. She could barely breathe.

Moments passed. Perhaps hours. Time had no meaning in the Heavenly Realm.

Slowly, painfully, Shen Mengyue crawled forward. She positioned herself bef

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

One hundred years had passed since Xuanfa first brought Shen Mengyue to the Heavenly Realm. The golden halls and floating pavilions of that ethereal domain now echoed daily with the sharp, rhythmic cracks of the Heavenly Dao Board striking soft flesh. The air carried a constant scent of bruised skin, ginger juice, and the faint, sweet perfume of humiliation turned to devotion.

In a vast, open courtyard paved with white jade, a row of pale, plump buttocks was raised high. Thirty-two female cultivators knelt in perfect alignment, their foreheads pressed against the cool stone, their hands clasped above their heads, and their rear ends presented to the heavens. Each pair of buttocks was marked with a symmetrical pattern of red stripes, some fresh and oozing, others fading into purple bruises. Behind each kneeling woman, two Heavenly Dao Boards floated silently. They were rectangular slabs of dark jade, inscribed with ancient runes that glowed with a soft amber light. At any command or at the appointed time, they would swing forward and deliver a precise, stinging blow.

These women were not common prisoners. Among them were sect leaders who had once commanded thousands of disciples—the Mistress of the Azure Lotus Sect, the Grand Elder of the Sword Pavilion, the Matriarch of the Celestial Frost Clan. Genius rogue cultivators who had broken through to Nascent Soul before the age of two hundred stood side by side with noble daughters from the highest immortal families. All of them had been proud, unyielding. All of them had met Xuanfa. He had defeated them in combat, stripped them of their robes with a flick of his finger, and then bent them over his knee or a conveniently shaped rock. He had spanked their bare buttocks with the Heavenly Dao Board until they wept, until they begged, until they swore to be his female slaves. Now they knelt here, their pale buttocks raised, waiting for the next stroke.

At the head of this row, three figures stood. They were the only ones not kneeling, the only ones not currently being spanked. They were naked, their bodies gleaming under the soft light of the Heavenly Realm’s perpetual twilight. Their skin was flawless, their muscles toned from years of cultivation and discipline. Yet their buttocks were not smooth. Each of the three bore a vivid, swollen redness that covered their entire derriere, from the crease beneath the hips to the upper curve where the cheeks met the lower back. The redness was not uniform; it was mottled with deeper purple patches, and the skin was slightly raised in parallel ridges. They had been punished recently, and severely.

The first of these three was Lin Qiaoxin, Xin Nu. Her black hair was tied in low twintails that fell to her shoulders, and her face still held its youthful, mischievous charm. But her body had matured over the century. Her breasts were full and firm, their tips a pale pink, and her waist was slender yet strong. Her buttocks were two perfect mounds, round and high, and they looked like they had been painted with crimson lacquer. The stripes on her cheeks were evenly spaced, a testament to her skill in maintaining proper position during punishment. She stood with her hands behind her back, her eyes scanning the kneeling women with a mixture of authority and amusement.

Beside her stood Li Que, Que Nu. Taller and more athletic, her red hair was tied in a high ponytail that swung behind her. Her physique was lean and powerful, with well-defined shoulders, a flat stomach, and long, shapely legs. Her buttocks were less round than Lin Qiaoxin’s, but they were firm and muscular, and the swelling on them was even more pronounced. The skin was tight and shiny, and the stripes on her cheeks were deeper, almost black at the center of each impact zone. She held herself with a proud bearing, her chin lifted slightly, her eyes cold and commanding. She had learned to submit, but her pride now expressed itself in how perfectly she endured punishment.

And between them stood Shen Mengyue, Yue Nu. Her waist-length black hair cascaded down her back, partly covering the red ruins of her buttocks. Her skin was fair, almost luminous, and her figure combined the ethereal purity of a young maiden with the seductive allure of a mature woman. Her breasts were full and heavy, their nipples a deep rose, and her hips were wide and smooth. Her buttocks were the largest of the three, soft and pillowy, and they were a mess of crimson and purple. The swelling was so severe that the globes seemed to have doubled in size, and the skin was crisscrossed with a lattice of raised welts. Despite this, she stood perfectly still, her expression serene, her eyes soft but focused. She had been the first, and she had learned the lesson most deeply.

Under the long-term punishment, the three had advanced their cultivation. They were now at the Great Perfection of Mid Divinity Transformation, just a step away from Late Divinity Transformation. The Heavenly Dao Board, when used regularly, tempered the body and refined the spirit. The pain had become a crucible, and they had emerged stronger.

“Keep your buttocks higher, sisters,” Lin Qiaoxin called out cheerfully to the kneeling row. “Relax your muscles. The board strikes harder when you clench. Let it flow through you. Accept it.”

Li Que walked slowly behind the row, her eyes inspecting each raised rear. She paused behind a trembling young woman from the Vermilion Gate and tapped her hip with a finger. “Too low. Raise it another inch. Do you want the board to hit your lower back instead? That would be a waste of a good stroke.”

The young woman whimpered but adjusted her position.

Shen Mengyue did not speak. She moved like a ghost, her bare feet silent on the jade. She stopped before a woman who was weeping silently, her tears dripping onto the stone. Shen Mengyue knelt beside her and gently wiped the tears from her cheek. “There is no shame in crying,” she said softly. “But do not let it distract you. Hold your position. The punishment will end, and you will be better for it.”

Then, without warning, the air in the courtyard shifted. It grew heavy, charged with an invisible pressure that made the thirty-two kneeling women gasp and tremble. The Heavenly Dao Boards hovering behind them froze, their runes dimming.

Xuanfa appeared.

He materialized out of a fold in space, standing at the head of the row. He wore black training clothes that clung to his tall, lean frame. His face was aloof and handsome, his expression unreadable. His eyes swept over the scene with cold satisfaction.

The three naked women reacted instantly. Without a word of command, without a glance exchanged, they dropped to their knees. Their movements were synchronized, born of a century of practice. They lowered their heads until their foreheads almost touched the ground. They placed their hands on the stone, one on top of the other, palms down. Then they raised their buttocks high, pushing their hips upward, exposing their red, swollen rear ends to their master’s gaze. The position was perfect: spine arched, thighs spread, anus and vagina fully visible from behind.

“Master,” they said in unison, their voices respectful and clear. “We are instructing our new sisters. Is Master here to watch Xin Nu/Que Nu/Yue Nu’s punishment? Rest assured, we will do our best to endure until the end and not spoil Master’s pleasure.”

Xuanfa looked down at them. He saw the three pairs of crimson buttocks, raised and offered. He saw the glistening moisture at the entrances of their vaginas—they had learned to derive pleasure from the spanking, and even now, just from assuming the position, they were aroused. He nodded once.

“Proceed.”

The three women straightened slightly but kept their buttocks high. They each reached behind themselves with one hand, fingers finding their anuses. With the practiced ease of a century of repetition, they inserted a finger and pulled the sphincter open. The pink, puckered flesh spread, revealing the dark interior of their rectums.

Above each of them, a syringe appeared. It was a long, cylindrical device made of crystal, filled with a thick, amber liquid—ginger juice, concentrated and potent. The needle was dull and wide, designed for insertion rather than injection. The syringes floated down, their tips aligning with the opened anuses. Slowly, inexorably, they pushed in. The women gasped as the cold glass entered them, then they groaned as the plunger was depressed, filling their intestines with the burning liquid. The ginger juice spread through their bowels, a fiery heat that radiated outward, making their lower bellies throb. They held still, not leaking a single drop.

The syringes withdrew and vanished.

Then the Heavenly Dao Boards came to life. Six of them appeared in the air around the three women, two for each. They were larger than the ones used on the kneeling row, and their runes glowed brighter. They positioned themselves—one in front of each woman, one behind.

The first stroke fell.

A board struck Lin Qiaoxin’s left buttock with a crack that echoed through the courtyard. Her flesh compressed, then rebounded, and a fresh red line appeared on her already swollen cheek. She let out a sharp cry, but it was laced with a note of pleasure.

The second board struck her right buttock a moment later. Then the front board swung upward, catching her directly on her pubic mound, a cruel and unexpected blow. She screamed, her hips jerking, but she did not lower her position.

Li Que was next. The boards struck her in a relentless rhythm—left, right, front, left, right, front. Each impact was a thunderclap, and her muscular buttocks absorbed the punishment with a quivering strength. She groaned through gritted teeth, her fingers digging into the stone floor.

Shen Mengyue’s boards struck her in a slower, more deliberate cadence. The front board targeted her clitoris and outer labia, while the rear boards hammered her swollen cheeks. She cried out in a voice that was both pained and melodic, her body swaying but never falling.

Stroke after stroke fell. The six boards moved in a complex dance, never striking the same spot twice in a row. They found every inch of the three women’s buttocks, from the crease at the top of the thighs to the curve of the hip, from the outer edge to the cleft. They struck the anus directly, making the women clench and shiver. They struck the vagina, making them gasp and leak more arousal. The ginger juice inside them burned hotter with each impact, the heat mixing with the pain until the two sensations became one.

The courtyard filled with the sound of flesh being beaten, with cries and moans and the rhythmic swish of the boards. The thirty-two kneeling women watched and listened, their own buttocks trembling in sympathetic fear and anticipation.

Fifty strokes. One hundred. The three women’s buttocks were now a solid, uniform crimson, so swollen that the skin looked ready to split. Their cries had become a continuous wail, punctuated by breaths.

One hundred fifty. Two hundred. Lin Qiaoxin’s screams turned to sobs, but she did not break position. Li Que’s groans were deep and animalistic, her body dripping sweat and juices. Shen Mengyue’s voice had become a low, keening hum.

Two hundred fifty. The boards accelerated. They struck faster, harder, each blow landing with the force of a cultivator’s palm strike. The women’s buttocks bounced and shivered, the flesh rippling under the onslaught.

Three hundred. The final strokes fell simultaneously—one on each of Lin Qiaoxin’s cheeks, one on each of Li Que’s, one on each of Shen Mengyue’s. The sound was a single, deafening crack.

The boards stopped. They hovered for a moment, then vanished.

The three women remained kneeling, their buttocks raised, their bodies trembling. The ginger juice had not leaked. Not a single drop had escaped their clenched sphincters. They had endured.

Slowly, they lowered their hips, then sat back on

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

The morning sun cast long shadows across the Spirit Pheasant Mountain as Xuanfa stood before the newly constructed main hall of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. The building rose from the peak like a monument to his will, its black stone walls gleaming with protective formations that Lin Qiaoxin had spent three days inscribing.

He surveyed his domain with cold satisfaction. The sect was complete. Female cultivators moved through the training grounds below, their naked bodies pale against the green grass. None wore a single thread of clothing. They practiced sword forms, studied formation diagrams, and meditated in circles, all in complete nudity as their master had decreed.

The three women who knelt behind him on the stone platform wore even less. Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue rested on hands and knees, their bodies bare except for the leather collars around their necks and the chains that connected those collars to the leash in Xuanfa's left hand. Their buttocks, already bearing the purple-red marks of previous punishments, rose behind them in silent submission.

Xuanfa turned to face them, his black training robes shifting with the movement. "Lin Qiaoxin."

The youngest of his slaves lifted her head, her low twintails bouncing. "This slave is here, Master."

"Your work on the sect's defensive formations has exceeded expectations. The grand formation you designed can repel attacks from three Great Perfection Nascent Soul cultivators simultaneously."

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes sparkled. "This slave only wished to serve Master's interests. The formations required some creative modification of standard patterns, but—"

"The reward for exemplary service is public spanking."

Her breath caught, and a flush spread across her cheeks. "This slave is grateful for Master's recognition."

"Shen Mengyue."

The former sect leader of Immortal Xia Sect pressed her forehead to the cold stone. "This slave is here."

"Your management of sect affairs has been flawless. Disciples are disciplined, resources are allocated efficiently, and no internal conflicts have arisen."

"Master's praise humbles this slave."

"Li Que."

The red-haired warrior woman's voice rang out clear and proud. "This slave awaits Master's command."

"You defeated the challenger from the Azure Cloud Sect yesterday. A late Nascent Soul cultivator who came to mock the Spanking Phoenix Sect. You broke his cultivation and sent him crawling back to his master."

"That insect dared to insult Master's methods. This slave merely demonstrated the effectiveness of Master's training."

"He will not insult again." Xuanfa's fingers twitched, and three Heavenly Dao Boards materialized beside him, floating in the air with ominous stillness. "All three of you have earned the honor of public punishment before the sect."

"Yes, Master," they said in unison.

Xuanfa gestured, and the three slaves crawled forward on hands and knees, positioning themselves in a row before the main hall's entrance. Below, the naked disciples of the Spanking Phoenix Sect gathered, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination. Many covered their mouths with their hands. Some turned away in embarrassment, while others stared with morbid curiosity.

"Sect Leader Mo of the Heavenly Phoenix Sect has also joined us today," Xuanfa announced, his voice carrying across the training ground.

From behind the main hall, a female cultivator was pushed forward by two of Xuanfa's disciples. Mo Rongying stumbled, her long black hair disheveled, her body stripped of her elegant phoenix robes. She wore nothing now, her pale skin exposed to the morning air and the gazes of hundreds of cultivators.

"This is outrageous!" Mo Rongying struggled against the hands that held her. "I am a Divinity Transformation cultivator! You cannot treat me like—"

Xuanfa's finger stabbed forward, and a beam of spiritual power struck Mo Rongying's knees. She collapsed with a cry, her legs no longer able to support her.

"You came to my sect to protest my methods," Xuanfa said, walking toward her. "You called me a tyrant, a pervert, a disgrace to the cultivation world."

"I spoke the truth!"

"You spoke from ignorance." Xuanfa grabbed her hair and dragged her to the platform, positioning her beside his three slaves. "Now you will learn what it means to challenge the Spanking Phoenix Sect."

"No! I won't kneel for you!"

Xuanfa pressed his palm to her lower back and pushed. Mo Rongying's body slammed against the stone, her face scraping across its rough surface. She tried to rise, but a formation circle flared beneath her, pinning her in place with her buttocks raised.

"You will kneel," Xuanfa said, his voice soft and deadly. "You will also remain silent and accept your punishment. When it is over, I will consider allowing you to leave."

Mo Rongying's teeth clenched. Her eyes burned with hatred, but she said nothing more.

Four Heavenly Dao Boards now hovered above the platform, each one a slab of jade-white stone inscribed with golden runes that pulsed with power. The boards were as wide as a hand and twice as long, their surfaces perfectly flat.

Xuanfa stood before the four women, his hands clasped behind his back. "Lin Qiaoxin, as Formation Grand Elder, you have brought honor to this sect. For your reward, you will receive fifty strokes."

"This slave accepts Master's reward with gratitude." Lin Qiaoxin's voice carried a hint of excitement that made the watching disciples exchange confused glances.

"Shen Mengyue, as Internal Affairs Grand Elder, your diligence has kept the sect running smoothly. Thirty strokes."

Shen Mengyue lowered her head. "This slave thanks Master for his recognition."

"Li Que, as Combat Grand Elder, your victory over the Azure Cloud Sect's challenger has increased the sect's reputation. Forty strokes."

Li Que's red ponytail swayed. "This slave is honored."

"And you, Mo Rongying." Xuanfa's gaze fell on the Heavenly Phoenix Sect leader. "You will receive one hundred strokes for trespassing and insulting the Spanking Phoenix Sect."

Mo Rongying's face went pale. "You can't—"

"Silence." Xuanfa raised his hand. "Begin."

The first Heavenly Dao Board descended.

It struck Lin Qiaoxin's upturned buttocks with a sound like thunder. Her flesh compressed, then rebounded, a bright red handprint blooming across her left cheek. She gasped, her body lurching forward, but she caught herself on her hands and immediately pushed her buttocks back into position.

"The first!" Lin Qiaoxin's voice was strained but cheerful. "Only forty-nine more to go!"

Another board struck Li Que. The impact drove her down, but she rose again, her muscles tense, a low growl escaping her throat. The red mark on her athletic buttocks matched the color of her hair.

"Harder!" Li Que shouted. "This slave's buttocks can take more than that!"

The third board crashed into Shen Mengyue's pale flesh. She cried out, a soft sound of pain that was almost a moan. Her fingers dug into the stone platform, but she held her position, her buttocks high and welcoming the next stroke.

The fourth board struck Mo Rongying.

Her scream echoed across the training ground. The board had landed across both cheeks, painting them a vivid crimson. She bucked and twisted, trying to escape, but the formation held her in place.

"Stop! This is madness!"

"One," Xuanfa counted. "Ninety-nine remaining."

The boards rose and fell in sequence. Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks turned from red to purple, the skin glossy with sweat and beginning to swell. She counted each stroke aloud, her voice growing shakier but never losing its playful edge.

"Fifteen! Sixteen! Master, this slave's buttocks must look like two ripe plums by now!"

"They look like what they are," Xuanfa replied, his tone flat. "A female slave's worn-out toy."

Lin Qiaoxin laughed, a sound that dissolved into a gasp as the board struck again. "Seventeen! Exactly right, Master! This slave's buttocks exist only for Master's pleasure!"

Shen Mengyue endured her strokes in relative silence, only crying out when the pain became too great. But between strikes, she spoke to the watching disciples.

"Pay attention," she said, her voice tight with pain. "This is what it means to serve the Spanking Phoenix Sect. The pain... it purifies. The humiliation... it liberates."

A young disciple in the front row trembled. "Grand Elder, does it hurt?"

"Of course it hurts." Shen Mengyue gasped as another stroke landed, her buttocks jiggling from the impact. "But pain is temporary. The honor of being chosen for punishment... that lasts forever."

Li Que took her strokes with fierce pride, her eyes blazing each time the board descended. Her buttocks were now a deep purple, the skin stretched tight over swollen muscle.

"Is that all?" she snarled after the fifteenth stroke. "This slave has been hit harder by mosquito bites!"

The Heavenly Dao Board responded with a strike that made the stone platform tremble. Li Que's body convulsed, and she bit her tongue, drawing blood. But she didn't cry out.

"Better," she said through gritted teeth. "Now this slave feels properly punished."

Mo Rongying had stopped trying to speak. Her body was racked with sobs, her face pressed against the stone, tears and drool pooling beneath her. Her buttocks were a mess of purple and black, the skin broken in several places where the board had struck with particular force.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please stop. I'll do anything."

"You will do anything regardless," Xuanfa said. "The question is whether you will do it willingly or by force."

"I'll submit! I'll submit to you! Just stop the punishment!"

Xuanfa's lips curved slightly. "Your submission means nothing if it's coerced. But I admire your spirit. You lasted fifty-eight strokes before breaking. Most Nascent Soul cultivators collapse at twenty."

"Fifty-eight?" Mo Rongying's voice cracked. "There are forty-two more?"

"The original sentence was one hundred. But since you've expressed willingness to submit, I will reduce it to eighty. You have twenty-two remaining."

Lin Qiaixin twisted her neck to look at Mo Rongying. "Hey, Heavenly Phoenix Sect leader, want some advice? Stop clenching your buttocks. Relax into the stroke. It hurts less that way."

"How could anything hurt less?"

"Trust me! This slave has been spanked thousands of times." Lin Qiaoxin yelped as a stroke caught her at an odd angle. "Okay, maybe not thousands. Hundreds at least. Master is very generous with his punishments!"

"You enjoy this?"

"Of course! Getting spanked by Master means Master is paying attention to me. It means I've done something worth noticing." Lin Qiaoxin's voice softened. "Besides, after the pain comes the most wonderful feeling. The warmth, the soreness, the knowledge that Master's marks are on my body. It's like... like being held, in a way."

Mo Rongying stared at her, her fear momentarily forgotten. "That's insane."

"Maybe." Lin Qiaoxin shrugged, the motion making her swollen buttocks wobble. "But this slave is happy. And isn't that what matters?"

The boards continued their work. Li Que roared through her final strokes, her voice hoarse from screaming but her spirit unbroken. She collapsed when the last one landed, her body trembling, her buttocks a ruin of purple flesh.

Shen Mengyue finished her punishment with quiet dignity, her face streaked with tears but her posture perfect. She lowered herself to the ground and pressed her forehead to Xuanfa's feet.

"This slave thanks Master for the punishment," she said. "This slave will strive to earn more such rewards."

Xuanfa placed his foot on her head. "You will."

Lin Qiaoxin finished her fifty strokes with a final, jubilant count. "Fifty! Done! Master, this slave requests permission to show off her punished buttocks to the disciples!"

"Granted."

Lin Qiaoxin pushed herself to her feet with difficulty, her legs wobbling. She turned and walked to the edge of the platform, presenting her ravaged buttocks to the crowd

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

Xuanfa walked at a leisurely pace through the winding stone paths of the Spanking Phoenix Sect, his black training clothes stark against the pale mist that clung to the morning air. Behind him, three naked women crawled on all fours, their bodies bare to the cool breeze that swept between the ornate pillars and carved eaves of the sect’s halls. Lin Qiaoxin moved with a playful bounce in her crawl, her low twintails swaying as she kept her head lifted, a cheerful grin on her face. Li Que crawled with a stiff, proud posture, her red hair tied in a high ponytail that swung with each deliberate movement, her athletic frame taut and controlled. Shen Mengyue followed with a graceful, measured crawl, her waist-length black hair trailing over her shoulders and brushing the ground, her ethereally pure face calm and composed.

Disciples of the Spanking Phoenix Sect paused in their training, some clutching books on formations, others holding practice swords. They stole glances, their eyes wide, as the three grand elders—women who taught them with patient diligence and stern discipline—moved like docile female dogs behind their master. Though they had seen this many times, the sight still struck them with a mix of awe and disbelief. The elders who corrected their stances and explained the intricacies of cultivation now crawled naked, their buttocks swaying with each step, their bodies fully exposed to the morning light.

Lin Qiaoxin turned her head, her voice light and teasing. “Hehe, Master, the disciples are watching Xin Nu.” She winked at a young disciple who quickly looked down, blushing.

Li Que kept her eyes forward, her tone flat and matter-of-fact. “Haven’t they gotten used to it after all this time? If they haven’t, they’ll learn.”

Shen Mengyue spoke softly, her voice carrying a gentle authority despite her position. “Some of them will perform well and become Master’s female slaves in the future. It’s good that they learn early what awaits them.”

Xuanfa said nothing, his expression unreadable as he led them around a corner and stopped before the sect’s main hall. The building loomed before them, its grand doors closed, its roof adorned with phoenixes carved from white jade. He turned to face the three women, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes cold and sharp.

“Do you still remember how you became my female slaves?” His voice was low, each word precise.

Lin Qiaoxin perked up, her crawl bringing her closer to his feet. “Xin Nu remembers, Master. Master appeared directly in front of me and insisted I become your female slave. I was unwilling and tried to be clever, so Master took off my skirt and spanked my perky buttocks hard, making me cry. Under Master’s coercion and seduction, I became your female slave.”

Li Que spoke next, her voice steady, no trace of shame. “Que Nu remembers. I was leading the Vermilion Gate to attack the Grand Pure Palace. Believing myself invincible at the same realm, I was defeated by Sister Xin, whom Master had taught. I was spanked hard by Sister Xin’s formation, had a ginger strip stuffed into my anus by Master, and was hung by an anal hook for public display. Ignorantly, I wanted to challenge Master, but I was defeated in one move. Then I obediently became Master’s female slave.”

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, her eyes sparkling. “If Sister Que’s buttocks are itchy, Xin Nu can always use formations to spank them again.”

Li Que’s lips twitched, but she said nothing.

Shen Mengyue lowered her head slightly, her voice calm and clear. “Yue Nu remembers. After being punished together with Sister Xin and Sister Que in Wuling City, I was foolish enough to refuse Master’s kindness to take me as a female slave. Master gave me a ginger juice enema and had Sister Xin and Sister Que take turns spanking my ignorant buttocks with Heavenly Dao Boards. I also cried and obediently became Master’s female slave.”

Xuanfa’s gaze swept over them, a flicker of approval in his eyes. “And now, how do you feel about being spanked as female slaves?”

Lin Qiaoxin answered cheerfully, her voice like a bell. “Although Master’s Heavenly Dao Boards hurt terribly on the buttocks, Xin Nu’s buttocks now love being spanked by the board the most. My buttocks are beaten open every day and I couldn’t be happier.”

Li Que spoke firmly, her chin lifted. “Que Nu has been defeated and taken as a female slave by Master. I should obediently accept all of Master’s humiliation and punishment. My buttocks must be beaten open every day as punishment.”

Shen Mengyue said calmly, her tone even. “Yue Nu’s earlier refusal of Master’s kindness to take me as a female slave was foolish. This fault must be repaid by having my buttocks beaten open every day.”

All three nodded, their voices overlapping in a soft chorus. “We have fallen in love with being spanked by our master.”

Xuanfa chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver through the women. “You three have some awareness. Today’s punishment: each of you will receive two hundred strokes of the Heavenly Dao Board straight through.”

Without a word, Lin Qiaoxin turned and knelt on the smooth stone before the hall, her buttocks raised high, her back arched. Li Que followed, her athletic frame bending into position, her red hair spilling forward. Shen Mengyue knelt last, her long black hair pooling around her, her pale buttocks presented perfectly. They all waited, their bodies tense with anticipation.

Xuanfa reached into his storage ring and drew out the Heavenly Dao Board—a flat, wide paddle of dark wood, engraved with runes that glowed faintly. He stepped behind Lin Qiaoxin first. He lifted the board and brought it down with a sharp crack against her right cheek. The impact echoed in the courtyard. Her skin dented, then reddened as the blood rushed to the surface. She let out a soft gasp, but her buttocks stayed raised, pressing up into the next stroke.

The second stroke landed on her left cheek, and she moaned low in her throat. “Nnnh… yes, Master… more…” The board rose and fell in a steady rhythm, each blow painting her buttocks a deeper shade of crimson. By the twentieth stroke, her skin was a raw, angry red, the marks of the board stark against the pale flesh of her thighs. Her vagina began to glisten, moisture seeping out as the pain mixed with a growing, aching pleasure.

Xuanfa moved to Li Que. He swung the board without hesitation, the first stroke landing square on her right buttock. She grunted, her body jerking, but she held position. The second stroke followed, then the third, each one heavier than the last. Her athletic cheeks quivered under the assault, the skin splitting at the thirtieth stroke in a thin line that oozed a bead of blood. She bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut, but her hips pressed upward, inviting more. By the fiftieth stroke, her buttocks were a mess of red and purple, the board’s runes leaving faint glowing imprints. Her vagina was slick, dripping onto the stone.

Shen Mengyue’s turn came. Xuanfa placed the board against her left cheek first, then pulled back and struck. The sound was wetter, her skin softer, and the first blow left a deep purple welt. She gasped, a single tear sliding down her cheek, but her back remained arched, her head bowed. The strokes rained down in a methodical pattern, each one covering new ground, until her entire backside was a swollen, beaten canvas of black and blue. Her vagina was drenched, the moisture trailing down her thighs. At the hundredth stroke, she let out a shuddering breath, her body trembling with both agony and ecstasy.

The board rose and fell, the air filled with the rhythmic cracking of wood against flesh and the soft cries of the three women. Disciples peeked from behind pillars, watching the grand elders writhe and moan, their buttocks beaten open and raw. The runes on the board pulsed with each blow, sending waves of heat deep into the women’s cores.

After the two hundred strokes, Xuanfa stopped and tucked the board away. The three women remained kneeling, their buttocks a bruised, bloody wreck, their vaginas wet and throbbing. Lin Qiaoxin panted, her face flushed with joy. Li Que’s head hung low, her breathing ragged but her posture respectful. Shen Mengyue kept her composure, though her legs trembled.

Xuanfa looked down at them, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. “In a while, the Spanking Phoenix Sect’s grand ceremony will take place, with the highlight being your five-hundred-stroke spanking.”

Lin Qiaoxin’s eyes lit up. She pressed her forehead to the ground, her voice bright. “Thank you, Master, for the punishment.”

Li Que followed, her forehead touching the stone. “Thank you, Master, for the punishment.”

Shen Mengyue bowed last, her voice calm. “Thank you, Master, for the punishment.”

Xuanfa turned and walked toward the main hall, the three naked women crawling after him, their beaten buttocks swaying with each movement, their vaginas still glistening in the morning light.

The Spanking Phoenix Sect had grown. From a handful of defiant women bent over Xuanfa's knee, it had swelled to a thousand disciples. A thousand female cultivators who had abandoned their dignity, their modesty, and the safety of their untouchable buttocks. Compared to the great sects of the cultivation world, this number was laughably small. But for a sect built on submission and pain, it was a testament to Xuanfa's will.

He stood at the peak of the central hall, his black training clothes stark against the pale stone. His face was a mask of cold indifference, but his eyes swept over the gathered crowd with satisfaction. They were naked, every last one of them. A sea of bare flesh stretching across the training grounds, their hands clasped behind their backs, their heads bowed. They had come to him broken, and they would leave even more broken. That was the promise of the Spanking Phoenix Sect.

Xuanfa decided it was time for a grand sect ceremony. A ritual to cement their loyalty, to remind them of their place, and to display his absolute authority.

The day arrived clear and bright. The sun beat down on the training grounds, illuminating every curve, every scar, every flushed cheek of the thousand disciples. They stood in disciplined rows at the periphery, their bodies bare, their eyes fixed on the ground. Not a single one dared to meet their master's gaze.

In the center of the grounds, a large circular platform of white jade had been erected. Upon it knelt the female slave elders, fifty of them in total. They had crawled there on all fours, their hands and knees scraping against the cold stone, and now they knelt in perfect rows, their heads touching the ground, their buttocks raised high in the air like offerings. They were a mix of ages and builds, some with smooth, unblemished skin, others with crisscrossing scars from previous punishments. Each one wore a narrow leather collar around her throat, a symbol of her ownership.

The crowd fell silent as Xuanfa strode onto the platform. Behind him, crawling on all fours, came the three highest in status. Lin Qiaoxin, her black low twintails bouncing with each crawl, a playful smile on her youthful face even in this humiliating position. Li Que, her tall, athletic form taut as she moved, her red high ponytail swaying, her proud eyes fixed on the ground but burning with a fire that only Xuanfa could control. And Shen Mengyue, the former sect leader of the Immortal Xia Sect, her waist-length black hair trailing on the stone, her cool and gentle demeanor now replaced by a deep, submissive grace.

Xuanfa held three thin dog leashes in his hand, each attached to the collars of the three women. He led them around the platform, making a full circuit so that every disciple could see. The thousand naked women watched, their eyes wide, their breath caught in their throats. This was the price of power. This was the pinnacle of the Spanking Phoenix Sect.

When the circuit was complete, Xuanfa stopped at the center of the platform. The three women crawled to his feet and knelt beside him, their heads bowed, their hands flat on the ground. They did not rise. They did not even breathe loudly. They waited.

The ceremony began.

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue rose to their knees but remained low. They turned to face the center of the platform, where a large, dark wooden board stood upright. It was the Heavenly Dao Board, the very instrument used to spank the female cultivators of the sect. Its surface was smooth and worn from countless strokes, stained with the residue of pain and pleasure.

The three women began the sect ritual. They did not venerate ancestors or divine artifacts. They venerated the Heavenly Dao Board.

"In the beginning, there was disobedience," Lin Qiaoxin said, her voice light but carrying clearly across the silent grounds. "And the master punished it."

Li Que continued, her voice harder, more forceful. "The spanking was born. The Phoenix rose from the ashes of her own pride."

Shen Mengyue finished, her voice soft and melodic, yet carrying an undeniable weight. "And thus, the Spanking Phoenix Sect was founded. To remind all female cultivators that their place is beneath the master's hand."

The three then recounted the reasons for the sect's founding and the origin of its name. They spoke of the first spanking, of the humiliation of being stripped bare, of the burning pain that led to enlightenment. They spoke of the phoenix, a creature that must be broken before it can rise again.

"Your duty," Lin Qiaoxin said, turning to address the thousand disciples, "is to accept all the master's humiliation and punishment. No matter how shameful. No matter how painful."

"You shall crawl," Li Que added, "without the master's permission to rise."

"When paying respects to the master," Shen Mengyue said, "you shall kneel and raise your scarred buttocks high."

The disciples listened in absolute silence. Their naked bodies were already on display, but the words sank deeper, reinforcing their submission.

After the ritual, the three women began to instruct the disciples on cultivation experience. They passed on techniques that could only be learned through submission, through the pain of spanking. They taught the female slave elders how to endure punishment, how to clench and relax their muscles to avoid permanent damage, how to cry in a way that pleased the master, and how to derive even a sliver of pleasure from the agony.

"The master is not cruel for cruelty's sake," Shen Mengyue said. "He pushes you to your limits so that you may break through them. Every spanking is a lesson. Every scar is a badge of progress."

"When the board strikes," Lin Qiaoxin added with a grin, "don't clench your buttocks too tight. Let them bounce. The master hates a stiff target."

Li Que simply said, "Endure. That is all. Endure, and you will become stronger."

Xuanfa stepped forward. He raised his hand, and a wave of energy swept over the gathering. From his storage ring, he produced pills, radiant and glowing with potent immortal energy. They flew like a swarm of fireflies, distributing themselves into the hands of every single disciple.

"For your cultivation," Xuanfa said, his voice cold and commanding. "You have earned these with your submission."

Then he turned to a select group of disciples who had distinguished themselves in recent weeks. He handed them magic artifacts — swords, fans, talismans, jade pendants — each one a powerful tool that would elevate their strength.

But the main event was yet to come.

Xuanfa gestured, and five female cultivators stepped forward from the crowd. They had applied to become his personal female slaves, and he had chosen them from among many. They were the best of the applicants, the most beautiful, the most talented, the most willing to be broken.

The five women knelt before him, their naked bodies trembling with a mix of delight and fear. Delight that their cultivation could advance further under his direct care. Fear that their buttocks would soon feel the searing pain of his punishment.

Xuanfa walked down the line. He placed a leather collar around each of their necks, snapping it shut with a final, irrevocable click. The women shuddered as the weight of ownership settled on their throats.

"You are mine now," Xuanfa said. "You will crawl. You will obey. You will raise your buttocks when commanded. And you will thank me for every stroke."

"Yes, Master," they whispered in unison.

"Now crawl," Xuanfa ordered.

The five new female slaves dropped to all fours immediately. They crawled across the platform, their breasts swaying, their buttocks wiggling with each movement, until they reached the kneeling position of the female slave elders. They joined the fifty, kneeling in perfect synchronization, their heads down, their buttocks raised.

Now came the spanking of the female slave elders.

Fifty women knelt in five rows of ten, their plump buttocks pointing toward the sky. They were a diverse collection — some round and full, others lean and tight, some pale and smooth, others already marked with the telltale redness of previous punishments.

Xuanfa raised his hand. Countless Heavenly Dao Boards materialized in the air, hovering above each elder's raised posterior. The women began to tremble. Some let out soft whimpers. Others bit their lips, steeling themselves for the pain.

"Begin," Xuanfa commanded.

The boards descended.

The sound was deafening. A thunderous crack echoed across the training grounds as the boards struck fifty buttocks simultaneously. Flesh rippled and bounced. Red handprint-shaped welts bloomed instantly on fifty pairs of cheeks.

The women screamed.

The boards rose and fell again. And again. And again. Each stroke was a sharp, stinging explosion of pain that radiated from the buttocks to the very core of their beings. The women's bodies jerked and convulsed, but they did not dodge. They did not move out of position. They had learned their lesson well. To dodge was to invite even greater punishment.

The sound of boards hitting buttocks filled the sect. It was a rhythmic, relentless percussion, punctuated by cries, sobs, and the occasional desperate plea for mercy.

"M-mercy! Please!"

"Ah! Ah! N-no more!"

But the boards did not stop. Two hundred strokes. That was the sentence. And every single woman endured.

Through the first fifty strokes, they screamed. Through the next fifty, they sobbed and begged. Through the hundred and fiftieth, their voices grew hoarse, their cries turned into ragged gasps. And through the final fifty, some of them began to lose consciousness, their bodies going limp, yet still their buttocks remained raised, held up by sheer conditioning.

Finally, the two hundredth stroke landed. The boards vanished. The fifty women collapsed forward, their buttocks a mess of red and purple, their tears staining the stone beneath them.

But the ceremony was not over. The most important part was yet to come.

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue rose from their kneeling positions. They walked to the center of the platform, where Xuanfa stood. Their naked bodies were flawless in their own ways.

Lin Qiaoxin was youthful and cute, her body evenly toned and slender, her black low twintails framing a face that seemed perpetually on the verge of a mischievous grin. Her small breasts perked upward, her nipples hardened from the cool air, and her buttocks, though not as large as others, were perfectly shaped, round and firm.

Li Que was tall and athletic, her body a testament to her martial prowess. Every muscle was defined, from her shoulders to her thighs. Her high ponytail of red hair swayed as she moved, and her breasts were full and firm, with dark, prominent nipples. Her buttocks were powerful, strong, built for endurance.

Shen Mengyue was the most ethereal. Her waist-length black hair cascaded down her back, contrasting with her pale, fair skin. She had both the purity of a young maiden and the allure of a mature woman. Her breasts were full and heavy, swaying with a hypnotic grace, and her waist was narrow, flaring into wide, shapely hips. Her buttocks were the plumpest of the three, round and soft, yet firm enough to bounce magnificently under the board.

They knelt before him, lowering their heads until their foreheads touched the ground. They kowtowed three times, each time pressing their faces to the cold stone in absolute submission.

"Master," Shen Mengyue said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "We are ready to receive our punishment."

Xuanfa nodded. "Five hundred strokes each. The Heavenly Dao Board's severest punishment."

The three women did not flinch. They knew this was coming. They were his first, his most trusted, and they had to set the example.

They turned around, kneeling on all fours, and raised their plump buttocks high. Their cheeks parted slightly, revealing the hidden intimates between their legs. They did not hide. T

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）