The Punishment of Celestial Lord Xuanfa

The cultivation world stretched across vast continents, divided by realms of power that every soul sought to climb. Qi Refining built the foundation, Foundation Establishment solidified the path, Gold Core ignited the inner furnace, Nascent Soul birthed the true self, and Divine Transformation promised transcendence. In this world, female cultivators outnumbered males by a wide margin, yet the few men who walked the path of cultivation were often unmatched in talent and ferocity. Among them stood a peculiar tradition: a male cultivator could mark a female cultivator as his personal slave by spanking her bare bottom, a ritual that linked their spiritual energies and accelerated the cultivation of both parties. Most women despised the practice, viewing it as a degradation of their dignity. But tradition was tradition, and the strong wrote the rules.

Celestial Lord Xuanfa had no surname anyone remembered. He was known only by his title, a name spoken in whispers and fear across the four seas. He wore black training clothes that clung to his tall, muscular frame, his face cold and handsome as carved jade. His eyes held no warmth, only the sharp gleam of a blade forever unsheathed. At the Nascent Soul Great Perfection, he stood among the strongest in the world, wielding finger techniques that could shatter mountains and tear the sky. But what he truly loved—what set his blood stirring—was the curve of a woman's backside beneath his palm, the sound of a sharp slap echoing through a hall, the sight of pale skin turning crimson under his discipline. He kept his promises. He always followed through.

It began with a single disciple of the Immortal Cloud Sect, a pure-white cloud of a girl who had stumbled into Xuanfa's territory during a herb-gathering mission. She had been careless, trampling a rare spirit grass that Xuanfa had been nurturing for a century. When his enforcer brought her before him, trembling and tearful, Xuanfa had simply looked at her and said, "Your sect will pay for your foolishness. I will go to the Immortal Cloud Sect myself, and I will spank every female cultivator's bottom until it blooms like a peony."

The disciple had screamed and begged, but Xuanfa had already turned away, his robes swirling behind him. He did not strike her. He wanted her to carry the message, to spread the terror.

Three days later, Xuanfa arrived at the gates of the Immortal Cloud Sect.

The sect perched on a floating peak wrapped in white mist, its pavilions carved from cloudstone and jade. All-female, with a lineage stretching back three thousand years, the Immortal Cloud Sect prided itself on its purity and discipline. But now, the disciples gathered in the courtyard, their faces pale, their hands clutching their swords. Word had spread. The Celestial Lord was coming. The man who spanked women for sport.

Shen Mengyue stood at the front, her black and white Daoist robes flowing around her tall, graceful figure. Her long black hair reached her waist, strands catching the wind like silk threads. Her face was both ethereal and enchanting, with the fair skin of a young woman and the allure of a mature one. She was the sect master, a Nascent Soul mid-stage cultivator, and she had sworn to protect her disciples with her life.

"Celestial Lord Xuanfa," she said, her voice cool and steady, though her heart hammered in her chest. "I apologize for my disciple's negligence. The spirit grass will be replaced tenfold. There is no need for such drastic measures."

Xuanfa stood at the entrance of the sect gate, his arms behind his back, his black robes stark against the white mist. His expression did not change. "Replace the grass?" he said, his voice low and flat. "A hundred years of growth cannot be replaced. Your sect's disrespect must be repaid in full. You will all bend over and receive your punishment."

Shen Mengyue's eyes narrowed. She had heard of his reputation, but she had never faced him. She was no weakling. "I cannot allow that," she said. "If you insist, then you must face me first."

A murmur ran through the disciples. Some gasped, others clenched their fists. Shen Mengyue raised a hand to silence them. She drew her sword—a slender blade of pale blue crystal that hummed with spiritual energy. "I will not let you shame my sect."

Xuanfa tilted his head, a ghost of something that might have been interest flickering across his face. "Then fight."

The battle erupted like a thunderclap.

Shen Mengyue moved first, her sword tracing an arc of azure light that split the mist and screamed toward Xuanfa's chest. He raised a single finger, black energy spiraling around it, and tapped the blade. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, cracking the stone beneath their feet. Shen Mengyue's arm numbed, but she pressed forward, her techniques flowing like water—sword rain, moon slash, falling petals of ice.

Xuanfa did not move from his spot. He stood like a mountain, deflecting each strike with casual flicks of his fingers, his eyes never leaving her face. She was strong, he acknowledged. Beautiful too. Her robes fluttered as she spun, her hair whipping behind her, her expression fierce and determined. But she was only mid-stage, and he was Great Perfection. The gap was not just a matter of power; it was a chasm.

After thirty exchanges, Shen Mengyue was breathing hard, sweat beading on her brow. She had thrown everything at him—her strongest sword art, her soul-binding technique, even a forbidden spell that drained her lifespan. He had blocked it all. And he had not even used seventy percent of his strength.

"My turn," Xuanfa said.

He raised his hand, fingers curling into a claw, and thrust forward. Black energy shot from his fingertips, coiling into a dragon that roared through the air. Shen Mengyue raised her sword to parry, but the dragon shattered the blade into a thousand shards, then slammed into her chest. She flew backward, crashing into the stone pillars of the main hall, her body leaving a crater in the wall. She slid to the ground, gasping, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

The disciples screamed. Some rushed forward, but Shen Mengyue raised a trembling hand. "Stop," she croaked. "Do not engage."

Xuanfa walked toward her, his footsteps echoing in the sudden silence. He stopped a pace away, looking down at her as she lay on the cracked stone, her robes torn and dusty, her long hair splayed around her. Her eyes were wide, not with pain but with terror. She had never been so utterly defeated. He had dismantled her like a child breaking a toy.

"You resisted," Xuanfa said, his voice flat and cold. "You attacked me. I would have been lenient, but now the punishment is increased." He paused, letting the words sink in. "The entire Immortal Cloud Sect has resisted. Therefore, every female cultivator here—from the youngest outer disciple to the sect master herself—will be spanked one hundred times daily with Dark Wood Boards for three years."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Dark Wood Boards were instruments of discipline, infused with spiritual energy that made each strike burn like fire and ache for hours. One hundred times a day. For three years. It was not just punishment; it was humiliation, a sentence that would shatter their pride and reduce their sect to a laughingstock.

Shen Mengyue's face drained of color. She struggled to rise, her arms shaking, but Xuanfa placed a foot on her chest, pressing her back down. "Do not move," he said. "You will begin today. All of you. Strip and bend over."

"No," Shen Mengyue whispered, but her voice cracked. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Please. I will submit. I will accept any punishment myself. But spare my disciples. They are innocent."

Xuanfa gazed at her, his expression unreadable. "Innocent?" He shook his head slowly. "They belong to your sect. Your sect offended me. Your sect resisted. They share your fate." He lifted his foot and stepped back. "Bring the boards."

The disciples wept. Some fell to their knees, begging. Others stood frozen, their faces masks of horror. Shen Mengyue closed her eyes, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She had failed them. She had faced the strongest in the world and lost, and now her sisters would pay the price.

Xuanfa turned and walked to the center of the courtyard, his back straight, his hands clasped behind him. The first Dark Wood Board was brought forward, black and heavy, carved with runes that pulsed with faint light. He took it, testing its weight, then looked at the disciples.

"Line up," he commanded. "You will each receive your hundred. Do not make me repeat myself."

The punishment of the Immortal Cloud Sect had begun. And the cultivation world would soon hear of it—a tale of a sect brought low, of a sect master stripped of her dignity, and of the cold, merciless lord who took pleasure in every sharp crack of wood against flesh.

Fifteen years had passed in the Xuantian Realm, and Li Que had grown accustomed to the rhythm of her daily existence. Every morning, she knelt side by side with Lin Qiaoxin in Xuanfa's private chamber, their naked bodies pressed against the cool stone floor, buttocks raised high in anticipation of the Heavenly Dao Board's arrival.

The board materialized with its usual hum of spiritual energy, hovering above them like a patient executioner. Li Que felt her pulse quicken, a mixture of dread and something else she refused to name. The first strike landed across her upturned buttocks with a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber. Pain blossomed across her skin, radiating outward in waves of heat.

*Twenty-three*, she counted silently.

By the time they reached fifty, her buttocks were bright red, the skin warm to the touch. Lin Qiaoxin beside her took each strike with her characteristic lightness, her twin ponytails bouncing with every impact. But Li Que noticed how the younger woman's breath caught in her throat, how her fingers curled against the floor.

At one hundred, Li Que's mind had grown hazy. The pain had transformed into something almost meditative. Each strike sent jolts through her body that settled deep in her belly, spreading warmth downward. She shifted her knees apart slightly, feeling an unfamiliar dampness between her legs.

*What is this?* she thought, mortified.

By the final strike, number two hundred, Li Que's entire lower body sung with a strange mixture of agony and pleasure. She remained in position as the Heavenly Dao Board vanished, her muscles trembling. When she finally dared to look at Lin Qiaoxin, the younger woman was already watching her, eyes sparkling with knowing amusement.

Li Que opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. How could she ask such a thing? *Do you also feel that confusing heat after being struck? Does your sex also grow wet from the punishment?*

But Lin Qiaoxin simply blinked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She seemed to understand without words being spoken.

Later that day, they knelt before Xuanfa in the main hall. The Celestial Lord sat on his elevated seat, one leg crossed over the other, his black training clothes immaculate. His cold, handsome face revealed nothing as he looked down at his two female slaves.

"Master," Li Que said, her voice steady despite her nakedness, "Lin Qiaoxin and I wish to ask you something."

Xuanfa's eyes flickered with interest. "Speak."

Lin Qiaoxin leaned forward slightly, her tone playful. "What does Master like most in all the world?"

A pause. Then Xuanfa's lips curved into the barest hint of a smile. "I love watching female cultivators being spanked and tortured," he said, his voice low and cold. "The suffering they endure makes me stronger both mentally and in cultivation."

Li Que and Lin Qiaoxin exchanged a glance. "Master," Li Que said slowly, "there is an opportunity now."

She continued, "The entire cultivation world knows that the sect master of Immortal Cloud Sect was stripped naked by you and made to kneel in her sect hall. But it is not yet widely known that the formation genius Lin Qiaoxin and the Vermilion Bird Sect's vice sect master Li Que have become your female slaves."

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Why don't you walk us on dog leashes, naked, crawling to the highest terrace in Wuling City? Have Shen Mengyue's disciple lead her there as well, on a leash. We three will kneel in a row, upper bodies bent forward, raising our plump buttocks high."

"And then?" Xuanfa asked, his interest clearly piqued.

"Then you summon the Heavenly Dao Board to automatically spank the three of us," Li Que said. "Beat our buttocks until they are thoroughly destroyed, so damaged that even cultivators would need a week to recover. Then forcibly spread our legs and whip the cracks of our buttocks severely, ensuring our anuses and vaginas are swollen. Then insert anal hooks into our swollen anuses and hang us for a week of public display."

She met his eyes steadily. "That should make you happy."

Xuanfa considered this for a long moment. "It would please me greatly," he said finally. "We will do this tomorrow at noon, when the terrace is busiest."

But then he changed the subject, his tone shifting to something more experimental. "Before that, I wish to try a new punishment."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que tensed but said nothing.

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

They obeyed, turning away from him and dropping to their hands and knees. Li Que reached back with both hands, her fingers finding her own tight ring of muscle. She took a deep breath and pulled, feeling the uncomfortable stretch as she exposed herself. Beside her, Lin Qiaoxin did the same, her face betraying no fear but her hands trembling slightly.

Xuanfa moved behind them. In his hands, he held a flask filled with a pungent golden liquid. The smell of ginger filled the air, sharp and burning.

"This is magical ginger," he said, "squeezed from a plant found only in the deepest wilds of the northern wastes. Its essence is a thousand times stronger than common ginger."

He knelt behind Lin Qiaoxin first. Li Que watched from the corner of her eye as the flask's spout pressed against the younger woman's exposed anus. Then Xuanfa poured.

Lin Qiaoxin's entire body went rigid. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, then a choked cry of agony. Her hands clawed at the floor as the liquid entered her, filling her intestines with liquid fire. "It burns!" she screamed. "Master, it burns like fire!"

Xuanfa ignored her, moving to Li Que. She steeled herself, but nothing could have prepared her for the sensation. The liquid poured into her like molten iron, searing her insides. Her vision went white with pain. Every nerve in her body screamed as the ginger juice spread through her intestinal tract, coating the tender walls with fiery essence.

*I must not scream,* she told herself. *I am the vice sect master of Vermilion Bird Sect. I am strong.*

But when the flask emptied and the ginger juice settled deep inside her, she doubled over, vomiting bile onto the stone floor. Her anus burned as if a red-hot iron rod had been inserted, twisting and turning inside her.

Then came the Heavenly Dao Board.

"The daily two hundred spanks," Xuanfa said calmly. "But you must not lose control. You must not spray intestinal fluid. If you do, you will receive an extra one hundred boards."

Li Que straightened herself, positioning her burning buttocks for the punishment. The board materialized above her. But how could she control herself with this fire raging inside her?

The first strike fell.

Pain exploded across her already damaged buttocks. The impact forced the ginger juice deeper inside her, coating fresh areas of her intestines with burning agony. She clenched her muscles desperately, trying to hold everything in.

The second strike. The third.

Beside her, Lin Qiaoxin was gasping, tears streaming down her face. "I can't," she whimpered. "Master, I can't hold it."

"Hold it," Xuanfa ordered.

The fourth strike. The fifth.

By the tenth strike, Lin Qiaoxin's control broke. A spray of golden ginger juice erupted from her anus, splattering across the stone floor. She screamed in humiliation and pain, her body convulsing.

"One hundred extra boards," Xuanfa said coldly.

Li Que tried to focus. *Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.* She could feel the pressure building inside her, the ginger juice churning. *Twenty. Twenty-one.*

By the thirty-seventh strike, she too lost control. The ginger juice burst from her, and with it came waves of humiliation.

"One hundred extra strikes," Xuanfa said. "Now, resume position."

The Heavenly Dao Board continued its work, striking both women's already destroyed buttocks. Each impact sent shockwaves of pain through their tortured bodies. The ginger juice inside them seemed to grow hotter, spreading, coating every inch of their intestinal walls.

At fifty strikes of the extra punishment, Lin Qiaoxin couldn't help it. She sprayed again.

"Another one hundred."

By the time the punishment ended, both women lay on the floor, unable to move. Their buttocks were a mess of bruises and welts, the skin split in places. The ginger juice still burned inside them, an eternal fire that refused to fade.

Xuanfa looked down at them with cold satisfaction. "Tomorrow, at noon, the terrace."

The morning sun cast long shadows across Wuling City's main thoroughfare as Xuanfa strode through the eastern gate, his black training clothes immaculate, his expression as cold and unreadable as carved jade. In each hand, he held a length of black leather leash, and at the ends of those leashes, crawling on hands and knees, came Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que.

The two women moved in perfect unison, their naked bodies glistening with a thin sheen of sweat in the early light. Lin Qiaoxin's youthful figure, usually so full of playful energy, now moved with deliberate submission, her twin ponytails swaying as she kept her head lowered. Li Que's athletic frame, her red hair tied high, showed every muscle tensed as she crawled forward, her pride visibly warring with her obedience.

Behind them, a crowd began to gather. Merchants stopped their transactions. Children were pulled aside by their mothers. Cultivators from various sects, visiting Wuling City for trade and gossip, turned to stare with wide eyes.

"Is that... the Vermilion Bird Sect's Vice Sect Master?" a young man whispered to his companion.

"And the formation prodigy, Lin Qiaoxin! I heard she broke through to Nascent Soul just weeks ago!"

"But they're... they're naked! And those marks on their..."

The whispers died as the crowd noticed the state of the two women's buttocks. Crossed patterns of deep purple and black bruises covered their flesh, some old, some fresh. Stripes of red and angry welts crisscrossed from the tops of their thighs to the small of their backs. The skin had been beaten so thoroughly that in some places it looked like raw meat barely beginning to scab over.

Yet the two women crawled on without complaint, their faces serene, even content.

What no one could see, hidden from all eyes, was the torment inside their bodies. In their rectums, soaked into small cloth bundles that had been inserted deep, was fresh ginger juice. The spicy liquid burned against the tender inner walls, sending waves of sharp, stinging pain through their abdomens with every movement. The crawling motion caused the bundles to shift, grinding against raw nerves, making their inner thighs tremble with the effort of not crying out.

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes were bright with unshed tears of pain, but her lips curved in a small, secret smile. This was her contribution. This was her service to her master. Every step of this humiliation was a gift she could give.

Li Que's jaw was set so tightly that her teeth ached. The ginger burning inside her felt like flames licking at her core, but she would not break. She had chosen this. She had submitted to Xuanfa willingly, and she would prove herself worthy of his leash.

The crowd parted as Xuanfa led his two women toward the central plaza, where a raised terrace stood before the city's main administrative hall. But before they could reach it, another commotion began at the southern gate.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Heads turned. Fingers pointed.

There, crawling on all fours, came Shen Mengyue.

The sect master of the Immortal Cloud Sect, once one of the most respected figures in the cultivation world, was naked as the day she was born. Her long black hair, usually so carefully arranged, hung tangled around her shoulders, brushing the ground as she crawled. Around her neck was a dark leather collar, and from that collar, a dog leash trailed back to the hand of her disciple, a young woman whose face was twisted with barely concealed shame.

Behind Shen Mengyue, a crowd of onlookers had gathered, growing with every step. Some jeered. Some laughed. Some watched in stunned silence. A few, remembering the respect they once held for her, turned away in disgust.

"Mengyue of the Immortal Cloud Sect!" a man's voice called out. "Look at her now! Crawling like a dog!"

"How the mighty have fallen!" another shouted.

Shen Mengyue's face was ashen, her eyes fixed on the ground before her. She could not look up. She could not meet anyone's gaze. Every step, every scrape of her knees against the stone, every tug of the leash around her neck, was another death. Another tiny death of her pride, her dignity, her very self.

She had been a sect master. She had commanded thousands of disciples. She had faced demon lords and ancient beasts without flinching. But nothing, nothing in all her centuries of cultivation, had prepared her for this.

The memory of what had happened before they left burned in her mind. Her disciple, the one who now led her on a leash, had come to her with tears in her eyes. "Sect Master," the girl had said, "Celestial Lord Xuanfa has ordered... he has ordered that I must lead you through the city. That you must crawl. That you must be seen by all."

Shen Mengyue had wanted to refuse. She had wanted to fight, to die, to do anything rather than submit to this. But Xuanfa's words echoed in her mind: "If you refuse, your sect will be destroyed. Every disciple. Every elder. Every servant. I will personally ensure that the Immortal Cloud Sect becomes nothing but a bloody memory."

And so she crawled.

The stones were cold and rough against her knees. Her bare breasts scraped against the ground with each movement. The leash pulled at her throat, a constant reminder of her position. Behind her, the crowd followed like a funeral procession, their laughter and whispers a dirge for her honor.

"This is worse than death," she thought, her eyes burning with tears that would not fall. "Death would be merciful. Death would be release. But he will not grant me death. He wants me to live. He wants me to suffer. He wants me to be broken."

She thought of her disciples, safe back at the sect, unaware of what their sect master was enduring for their sake. She thought of her honor, her reputation, everything she had built over centuries, crumbling into dust. She thought of Xuanfa's cold eyes, his impassive face, his hands that had spanked her bare bottom until she screamed and wept and begged.

And she kept crawling.

The two groups met at the base of the terrace. Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que had already crawled up the steps, positioning themselves to either side of Xuanfa. Shen Mengyue's disciple handed the leash to Xuanfa without meeting her former sect master's eyes, then fled into the crowd.

Xuanfa took the leash with a single, elegant motion. He did not look at Shen Mengyue. He did not acknowledge her. He simply walked up the steps, and she followed, crawling behind him, her knees finding each stone step with mechanical precision.

At the top of the terrace, Xuanfa turned to face the crowd. Below him, Wuling City's plaza was filled to bursting. Cultivators, merchants, commoners, children, all had gathered to witness whatever spectacle was about to unfold. The news of Shen Mengyue's humiliation had spread like wildfire, and no one wanted to miss it.

"Citizens of Wuling," Xuanfa said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd. "You have witnessed the arrival of three who were once proud cultivators, leaders of their sects, masters of their arts. Now, they are mine."

He gestured, and Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que crawled to his feet, pressing their foreheads to the stone. Shen Mengyue hesitated, but a sharp tug on her leash brought her forward as well.

"They have chosen to serve me," Xuanfa continued. "And as their master, it is my duty to discipline them, to train them, to perfect them. Today, you will witness the first step in their transformation."

He raised his hand, and the Heavenly Dao Board appeared before him. It was a slab of dark jade, three feet long and two wide, inscribed with ancient runes that glowed with malevolent light. The board floated in the air, humming with power.

"Kneel," Xuanfa commanded.

The three women obeyed. They knelt in a row, their naked bodies facing the crowd, their faces turned away in shame—or in Lin Qiaoxin's case, in barely suppressed excitement.

"Bend forward," Xuanfa said. "Present your buttocks."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que moved instantly, lowering their upper bodies until their chests touched the stone, their arms stretched out before them, their hips raised high. Their buttocks, already battered and bruised from previous punishments, rose like offerings to the morning sky.

Shen Mengyue's body trembled. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on her, thousands of pairs of eyes, all staring at her most intimate parts. Her anus, her vagina, her buttocks—all exposed, all vulnerable, all on display for the world to see.

"Do it," Xuanfa said, his voice soft but carrying an edge of steel.

She closed her eyes and obeyed. Her body folded forward, her hands pressed flat against the stone, her hips rose. She felt the air on her most private places, felt the weight of the crowd's gaze like a physical pressure, and a single tear escaped her eye, tracing a path down her cheek to the stone below.

"Heavenly Dao Board," Xuanfa intoned, "fulfill your function. Punish these three for their transgressions. Spank them until they are destroyed."

The dark jade board rose higher, then descended with terrible speed. It struck Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks first, the flat surface slapping against her left cheek with a sound like thunder. Her body jolted, her breath catching in her throat, but she made no sound of complaint.

The board rose and fell again, striking her right cheek. Then the left. Then the right. The rhythm was inexorable, mechanical, relentless. Each strike left a red mark that quickly darkened to purple, then black. The skin began to split, small cracks appearing like fissures in dried earth.

Lin Qiaoxin bit her lip until it bled, but she did not cry out. The pain was exquisite, transcendent. Each blow was a gift, a connection to her master, a confirmation of her place in his world. She loved every second of it.

Beside her, Li Que received the same treatment. The board spanked her athletic buttocks with equal force, reshaping the firm flesh into a bruised and battered mass. She grunted with each impact, her fingers curling against the stone, her teeth grinding. But her eyes, when they opened, held a fierce pride. This was her payment. This was her duty. And she would not fail.

Shen Mengyue watched the board descend on the other two, knowing her turn was coming. Her stomach clenched with fear and shame. The crowd was cheering now, some laughing, some calling out crude comments.

"That's it! Beat those bottoms raw!"

"I can see her asshole from here! Spread her legs wider!"

"Look at the sect master! She's trembling like a leaf!"

Then the board turned to her.

The first strike landed on her left buttock, and she screamed.

It was not a scream of pain, though the pain was immense. It was a scream of horror, of violation, of the final shred of her dignity being torn away. The board had struck her in front of thousands of people, and they had all seen, all heard, all witnessed her punishment.

The second strike landed, and she sobbed. The third, and she begged. "Please, please, no more, I can't, I can't—"

But the board did not stop. It continued its relentless assault, striking each cheek in turn, breaking the skin, bruising the muscle, destroying the flesh. Blood began to flow, trickling down her thighs, pooling on the stone beneath her. The pain was beyond anything she had ever experienced. It was as if her entire lower body was on fire, being beaten with hammers, being torn apart from the inside.

After a hundred strikes, the board paused. The three women's buttocks were unrecognizable. Where once had been smooth, curved flesh, there was now a mass of raw, bloody pulp. The skin had split in dozens of places, revealing muscle and fat beneath. Bruises of black, purple, and deep red covered every inch from the top of their hip bones to the tops of their thighs.

A cultivator's body would heal. In a week, with rest and spiritual energy, the damage would be gone. But that week stretched before them like an eternity.

"Now," Xuanfa said, his voice cutting through the crowd's

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The morning light filtered through the clouds, casting long shadows across the execution platform in Wuling City. The week of public humiliation had ended, and the three women were finally lowered from the iron hooks that had suspended them for seven days. Their wrists were raw and bleeding, their bodies trembling with exhaustion and pain.

Shen Mengyue's legs gave out the moment her feet touched the ground. She collapsed onto the wooden platform, her naked body covered in sweat and grime. For an entire week, she had hung there, her anus stretched around the cold metal hook, her bare buttocks exposed to the thousands of cultivators who had come to witness her shame. Every passerby had seen her most intimate parts. Every whispered comment had reached her ears. The disciples of the Immortal Cloud Sect had watched from the crowd, their faces a mixture of horror and pity.

Lin Qiaoxin landed beside her, stretching her arms with a groan. "Oh, that was unpleasant. My back is killing me."

Li Que said nothing, but her red hair was disheveled and her proud face showed signs of weariness. She rubbed her wrists where the ropes had chafed.

A cold wind swept across the platform, and the air grew heavy with pressure. The three women looked up to see Xuanfa descending from the sky, his black training clothes immaculate, his handsome face expressionless. He landed before them, his dark eyes sweeping over their naked forms with disinterest.

Shen Mengyue scrambled to her knees, her heart pounding. She knew what was coming. The week had been punishment for her past offense—stealing the Immortal Jade from the Xuantian Realm. But now that it was over, she feared what else he might demand.

Xuanfa's gaze settled on her. "Shen Mengyue. The week is complete. I hope you have had time to reflect."

She bowed her head, her long black hair falling over her shoulders. "I have, Celestial Lord. I understand my transgression."

"Good." He took a step closer. "Then you will willingly enter the Xuantian Realm and become my female slave."

The words hit her like a physical blow. Shen Mengyue's eyes widened, and she looked up at him with desperate pleading. "Celestial Lord, please. I have already endured this humiliation. The entire cultivation world has seen me stripped and punished. My sect's honor is ruined. I beg you, do not demand this of me."

Xuanfa's expression did not change.

"I am the Sect Master of the Immortal Cloud Sect," she continued, her voice cracking. "I cannot become a slave. The spanking I received was for offending you. I accept that punishment. But please, do not take my freedom."

"Stubborn," Xuanfa said, his voice flat.

He waved his hand, and an invisible force seized Shen Mengyue. She was lifted off the ground and turned around, forced onto her hands and knees with her buttocks raised high in the air. No matter how she struggled, she could not move from that humiliating position.

"Lin Qiaoxin. Li Que." Xuanfa's voice carried no emotion. "Spread her."

The two women moved immediately to obey. Lin Qiaoxin grabbed Shen Mengyue's left buttock, and Li Que took the right. They pulled, stretching the cheeks apart and exposing Shen Mengyue's anus to the open air.

Shen Mengyue's face burned with shame. "No, please—"

Xuanfa produced a clay jar. He uncorked it, and the sharp smell of ginger filled the air. Freshly crushed ginger juice, potent and burning.

"This will help you reconsider," he said.

He tipped the jar, and a stream of amber liquid poured directly into Shen Mengyue's exposed anus. The effect was immediate. A fire erupted inside her intestines, a burning sensation that raced through her bowels and seemed to set her entire lower body ablaze. Shen Mengyue screamed, her whole body convulsing as she tried to escape the searing pain.

"Stop! Please! It burns!"

But the invisible force held her firmly in place. Xuanfa poured more ginger juice, filling her deeper, ensuring every crevice inside her was coated in the burning liquid. Tears streamed down Shen Mengyue's face. She had never felt such intense internal pain. Her anus clenched and unclenched involuntarily, but there was no relief.

When the jar was empty, Xuanfa placed it aside. "Now, you will learn your lesson."

He reached into his storage ring and pulled out two Heavenly Dao Boards. These were different from the ones used in the Xuantian Realm—longer, thicker, and carved with spiritual formations that amplified pain. He handed one to Lin Qiaoxin and one to Li Que.

"Spank her. Hard."

Lin Qiaoxin's face lit up with glee. "With pleasure, Master!"

Li Que accepted the board with a determined nod.

They took positions on either side of Shen Mengyue's raised buttocks. Lin Qiaoxin swung first, the board whistling through the air before slapping against Shen Mengyue's right cheek with a crack that echoed across the platform. Shen Mengyue's entire body jerked. A red mark blossomed on her pale skin.

Before she could recover, Li Que struck her left cheek with equal force. The impact sent waves of pain through Shen Mengyue's flesh, and she cried out again.

"Again," Xuanfa said.

Lin Qiaoxin raised the board. "Wait! Remember the rules, Yue Yue. You have to say something."

Shen Mengyue was gasping, her vision blurred with tears. "What?"

Xuanfa stepped closer. "Every time you are struck, you will say, 'Thank you, Celestial Lord Xuanfa, for spanking my buttocks.' If you fail to speak, I will pour more ginger juice into you."

The threat hung in the air. Shen Mengyue's stomach churned at the thought of more ginger juice. The burning inside her had not subsided; it still raged like a wildfire in her intestines.

Lin Qiaoxin brought the board down again. The impact was brutal, sending a shockwave through Shen Mengyue's flesh.

"Thank you, Celestial Lord Xuanfa, for spanking my buttocks!" Shen Mengyue shouted through gritted teeth.

Li Que struck. "Thank you, Celestial Lord Xuanfa, for spanking my buttocks!"

"Crack!" from Lin Qiaoxin. "Thank you, Celestial Lord Xuanfa, for spanking my buttocks!"

The rhythm continued. Each strike was followed by the same humiliating words. In the crowd below, cultivators watched in stunned silence. The Sect Master of the Immortal Cloud Sect, stripped naked, being spanked on her bare buttocks by her own punishers while thanking her tormentor.

Shen Mengyue's buttocks turned from white to pink, then from pink to red. The lines of the Heavenly Dao Board left deep ridges across her flesh. She was crying openly now, her words becoming slurred and desperate.

"Th-thank you, Celestial Lord Xuanfa, for sp-spanking my buttocks..."

After thirty strikes, her voice was hoarse. After forty, she could barely form the words. But she kept speaking, terrified of more ginger juice.

At fifty strokes, Shen Mengyue broke.

"Please, stop!" she sobbed, her body heaving. "I'll do anything! I'll become your slave! Just stop the pain!"

Xuanfa raised his hand, and Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que lowered their boards. The platform fell silent except for Shen Mengyue's ragged breathing.

"You will enter the Xuantian Realm willingly?"

"Yes." The word came out as a whimper.

"And you will become my female slave?"

"Yes."

Xuanfa studied her for a long moment. "Good. But there are conditions. I will not harm the disciples of the Immortal Cloud Sect. I will protect your sect as long as you serve me faithfully."

Shen Mengyue looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen. "You promise?"

"I keep my promises."

She closed her eyes, the last of her resistance crumbling. "Then I accept. I will become your female slave."

A shimmer of light appeared around her neck, and when it faded, a black slave collar with a golden bell sat against her throat. It was identical to the ones Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que wore. The collar pulsed with energy, binding her to the Xuantian Realm.

Xuanfa nodded. "Come."

He opened a portal, and the four of them stepped through into the familiar garden of the Xuantian Realm. The air was sweet and fragrant, the flowers in bloom, the streams babbling peacefully. It was a paradise, but Shen Mengyue knew it was also a prison.

She knew the rules now. She had seen Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que go through this. There was a ceremony to complete.

Without being told, Shen Mengyue knelt on the soft grass. She positioned herself just as she had seen the others do—knees apart, back arched, her plump buttocks raised high and presented to the sky. The position was humiliating, but after a week of public exposure and the brutal spanking she had just endured, it felt almost routine.

Xuanfa stood before her, a Heavenly Dao Board in his hand. This one was the standard model—black lacquered wood etched with spiritual formations that would amplify every stroke.

"Two hundred strokes," he said. "You will count each one and thank me for the discipline."

"Yes, Master." Shen Mengyue's voice was barely a whisper.

The first strike landed hard on her left buttock. The sound was sharp and clean, and the pain was immediate and intense. Her flesh, already bruised from the earlier punishment, screamed in protest.

"One. Thank you, Master, for the discipline."

"One more," Xuanfa said. The board came down on her right cheek.

"Two. Thank you, Master, for the discipline."

The rhythm settled into a steady beat. Xuanfa struck methodically, alternating cheeks, covering every inch of her buttocks with the same precise attention. The board landed with a crack that echoed through the garden, and each time Shen Mengyue's body bucked forward, her fingers digging into the grass.

The first fifty strokes were a blur of pain and tears. Her buttocks turned from red to dark crimson, and small welts began to form along the edges of each impact. She counted faithfully, her voice steady despite the sobs that racked her chest.

"Fifty. Thank you, Master, for the discipline."

Lin Qiaoxin and Li Que stood nearby, watching. They had been in this position before, and they knew what Shen Mengyue was going through. There was no sympathy in their eyes—only the patience of those who had already learned their place.

By the time Xuanfa reached the hundredth stroke, Shen Mengyue's voice had grown hoarse. Her buttocks were a mess of red and purple, the skin hot to the touch. Every new impact sent fresh waves of agony through her body, but she could not move. The invisible force held her in place, just as it had on the execution platform.

"One hundred. Thank you, Master, for the discipline."

Xuanfa paused, allowing her a moment to catch her breath. He walked around her, examining his work. The flesh beneath the skin was visibly swollen, and the red marks stretched from the top of her buttocks clear down to her thighs. He nodded in satisfaction.

"One hundred and one."

The board landed on the border between her right cheek and thigh, a spot that had not yet been touched. The pain was blinding, and Shen Mengyue screamed despite herself.

"One hundred and one! Thank you, Master, for the discipline!"

The punishment continued. At one hundred and fifty, Shen Mengyue's legs gave out, and she collapsed onto her stomach, her buttocks still raised by invisible force. She was gasping, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Her tears had soaked the grass beneath her head.

"One hundred and fifty. Thank you, Master, for the discipline."

Xuanfa did not slow down. He knew when a punishment was complete, and he knew when mercy was warranted. This was neither. He had given her a promise, and he would see it through.

At one hundred and eighty, the pain became a constant presence, a burning fire that covered her entire backside. She felt like she was sitting on a bed of coals. Every strike was agony, but she could no longer tell one from the next. They blended together into a wall of suffering.

"One hundred and eighty. Thank you, Master, for the discipline."

"One hundred and eighty-one. Thank you, Master, for the discipline."

Finally, the two hundredth strike landed. The board connected

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One hundred years had passed since Xuanfa first brought order to the Xuantian Realm. The world had changed, but some things remained eternal: the sting of the Heavenly Dao Board against bare flesh, the desperate cries of proud cultivators, and the deep satisfaction that bloomed in Xuanfa's chest whenever he witnessed a woman's pride shatter beneath his palm.

In a vast, open courtyard carved into the side of a floating mountain, thirty female cultivators knelt in a perfect row. Their bodies were bent forward, arms stretched before them, heads low, and their pale, plump buttocks raised high into the air. Each pair of cheeks quivered under the hot gaze of two floating boards of polished jade, inscribed with countless runes that glowed faintly with punitive energy. The boards swung back and forth, cracking against the tender flesh with rhythmic precision. A chorus of whimpers and choked sobs filled the air, punctuated by the sharp *smack* of jade meeting skin.

These women had once been proud sect masters, revered elders, genius rogue cultivators, or pampered young ladies of ancient families. Now they were nothing more than freshly broken female slaves, their modesty stripped away along with their robes, their dignity shattered by Xuanfa's relentless discipline. They had been defeated, disrobed, and spanked until they begged—truly begged—to become his property. Their buttocks, once untouched by any hand, now bore the crimson handprints and board marks of their new master.

Behind this line of raised bottoms stood three figures, naked and radiant. Their bodies were works of art honed by a century of punishment and cultivation. Each had the same red, swollen marks on their buttocks, a badge of their devotion.

Lin Qiaoxin stood at the left, her black double ponytails swaying as she walked along the row. Her youthful face held a playful smile, but her eyes were sharp. Her figure was slim and well-proportioned, her breasts small and firm, her waist narrow, and her hips curved just enough to be enticing. Her buttocks, however, were a mess of vivid red and purple welts, the skin stretched taut and shiny from countless beatings. She had long since learned to derive pleasure from the pain, and the warmth between her legs testified to that.

"You there, third from the left," she called out in a cheerful voice. "Raise your bottom higher. You're sagging. If Master sees that, he'll double your lashes." The woman in question sobbed but obeyed, arching her back until her cheeks were fully presented.

In the center stood Shen Mengyue, her long black hair cascading down her back, partially concealing the fiery marks on her buttocks. Her skin was fair and luminous, her body a perfect blend of ethereal grace and mature allure. Her breasts were full and heavy, her waist slender, and her hips wide and round. The red and purple bruises on her buttocks only enhanced her beauty, like a painting of suffering and submission. Her expression was serene, almost motherly, as she gently corrected a trembling young woman's posture.

"Relax your muscles," Shen Mengyue said softly. "If you tense up, the board will sting more. Breathe deeply and accept it. That is the way to please Master."

On the right, Li Que stood with her arms crossed, her red hair tied in a high ponytail that brushed her lower back. Her body was athletic and strong, with defined muscles in her arms, legs, and core. Her breasts were modest but firm, her waist solid, and her buttocks—two perfect globes of dense muscle—were covered in dark red welts that showed even through the tan of her skin. She had the proud bearing of a warrior, even in submission. She barked orders at the line of women.

"You call yourselves Nascent Soul cultivators? Look at your posture. Your asses are wobbling like jelly. Hold still! Do you want Master to think I trained you poorly?"

The three women had been Xuanfa's first female slaves. Under a century of daily punishment and cultivation, they had advanced from Nascent Soul to Divine Transformation mid-stage perfection, only a hair's breadth from the late stage. Their bodies were conditioned to endure, their minds reshaped to crave the pain that once broke them.

Suddenly, the air grew cold. A figure materialized at the edge of the courtyard, cloaked in black training clothes that hugged a powerful frame. His face was handsome to the point of cruelty, devoid of any expression. Xuanfa had arrived.

In an instant, the three women moved as one. They dropped to their knees, lowered their heads until their foreheads nearly touched the ground, and placed their hands flat on the stone. Then, with practiced grace, they arched their backs and raised their red, swollen, beautiful buttocks high into the air—presenting themselves completely to their master.

"Master," they spoke in unison, their voices clear despite the lingering sting from their own recent punishments. "We are guiding the new sisters. Is Master here to watch Xin Slave/Que Slave/Yue Slave's punishment? Rest assured, we will endure to the very end and not spoil Master's mood."

Xuanfa's gaze swept over them, lingering on the vivid marks that covered their buttocks. He nodded once, a slight incline of his head. "Proceed."

Without hesitation, the three women reached behind them with both hands. They took hold of their own buttocks and spread them wide, pulling the cheeks apart to expose their anuses. It was a gesture they had performed countless times, a surrender of the last vestiges of privacy. Above each of them, a syringe made of pure spiritual energy materialized, filled with a thick, amber liquid—ginger juice, concentrated and potent.

The syringes descended. Three sharp points pressed against their exposed openings, then pushed in. The women gasped as the cold metal entered them, followed by the burning flood of ginger juice that filled their intestines. The liquid was hot, caustic, and impossibly stimulating. Lin Qiaoxin bit her lip, her eyes watering. Shen Mengyue closed her eyes, her breath hitching. Li Que clenched her jaw, her red hair trembling.

Once the syringes withdrew, the ginger juice settled deep inside them, a burning presence that would test their control to the limit.

And then the boards came.

Six Heavenly Dao Boards appeared in the air, arranged in pairs—one left, one right—for each woman. They were larger and heavier than the ones used on the new slaves, their runes blazing with golden light. These boards were attuned to Divine Transformation cultivators, carrying enough force to bruise even their reinforced bodies.

The first strike landed with a thunderous crack.

Lin Qiaoxin's entire body jolted. The board slammed into the left cheek of her raised bottom, flattening the flesh and sending a shockwave of pain through her hips. A bright red handprint bloomed instantly on the already-swollen skin. Before she could fully register the sting, the right board struck, hitting the opposite cheek with equal force. Her buttocks bounced, the flesh rippling.

*Crack. Crack. Crack.*

The boards alternated, left, right, left, right, each strike harder than the last. The sound was deafening, a steady rhythm of punishment that echoed across the courtyard. Lin Qiaoxin's youthful body convulsed with every hit. Her ponytails swung wildly. A scream tore from her throat—half agony, half ecstasy—as the ginger juice burned inside her, mixing with the fire from the boards.

Shen Mengyue's punishment was a study in grace under torment. Her full, round buttocks absorbed the blows with a deep, wet sound, the flesh compressing and then springing back, only to be struck again. Her back arched beautifully, her long hair cascading forward. She did not scream; instead, she let out low, guttural moans that vibrated through her chest. The ginger juice churned in her bowels, a searing heat that made her clench her muscles reflexively. Each slap of the board sent a wave of pleasure-pain through her core, and she felt herself growing wet despite the agony.

Li Que took the punishment like a warrior. Her muscular buttocks tensed with every strike, the dense muscle absorbing the impact with a loud *thwack*. She grunted, her red hair whipping around her face. She refused to cry out, but her body betrayed her—her thighs trembled, her anus clenched involuntarily around the burning liquid, and a thin trail of sweat ran down her spine. The boards came faster, harder, and she bit her tongue until she tasted copper.

Twenty strikes. Fifty. One hundred.

The new slaves in the front row watched in horrified fascination. Some forgot their own pain, staring at the three women who had once been legends—a sect master, a prodigy, a vice sect master—now taking their punishment without flinching, their bodies painted in red and purple, their spirits unbroken but utterly surrendered.

One hundred fifty. Two hundred.

Lin Qiaoxin's screams had turned into ragged sobs of pleasure. Her hips bucked involuntarily, pushing her buttocks back into the boards as if begging for more. Her vagina was slick, the arousal leaking down her thighs. Shen Mengyue had gone silent, her breathing shallow, her eyes half-lidded in a trance of pain and submission. Li Que finally let out a roar as a particularly brutal strike caught the underside of her left cheek, but she did not falter.

Two hundred fifty. Two hundred eighty. Three hundred.

The final blow landed in perfect unison—three boards striking three raised bottoms at the same instant. The force of it sent ripples through the flesh, and the women shuddered from head to toe.

The boards vanished.

Silence fell.

The three women remained kneeling, their buttocks a chaotic mosaic of red, purple, and black bruises. The skin was so swollen it looked ready to split, yet they held their position perfectly, not a single drop of ginger juice escaping their anuses. Their control was absolute.

Shen Mengyue spoke first, her voice breathy but composed. "The three hundred boards are finished, and we did not let the ginger juice flow out. Is Master satisfied?"

Lin Qiaoxin added with a shaky laugh, "Xin Slave's ass is on fire, but it felt so good. Did Master enjoy watching?"

Li Que simply said, "Que Slave performed without flaw. Master's discipline is always welcome."

Xuanfa stood motionless, his cold eyes passing over each of them. The slight nod he gave was barely perceptible, but to the women, it was everything. Approval from him was the highest reward.

He turned his gaze outward, toward the horizon beyond the floating mountain. His mind was already working. There were still so many high-realm female cultivators in the Xuantian Realm who had never tasted the Heavenly Dao Board. Nascent Soul, Divine Transformation, even the occasional Void Refining cultivator who thought herself untouchable. He imagined them all—proud, lofty, haughty—brought low, their robes shredded, their pale buttocks raised high, their screams filling the air as he carved submission into their flesh.

He also considered the future. These female slaves, now broken and loyal, could serve a higher purpose. They could become elders of a new sect, one built entirely on the foundation of discipline and pleasure. They would train new disciples, teach them the proper way to submit, and help him expand his influence.

The name came to him easily, a perfect reflection of his purpose.

The Spanking Phoenix Sect.

He smiled a cold, thin smile, and the air around him grew heavy with anticipation. The women behind him remained kneeling, their swollen buttocks still raised, waiting for his next command. The new slaves in the front line whimpered, knowing that their own punishments were far from over.

Xuanfa turned and walked away, his black robes billowing. Behind him, the sound of boards striking flesh resumed, accompanied by the sweet music of feminine cries. He did not look back. There were always more women to conquer, more buttocks to redden, more pride to break.

And he had all the time in the wo

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the training grounds of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. A crowd of naked female cultivators had gathered before the sect hall, their bare bodies shifting nervously as they watched the procession approach. At the head walked Xuanfa, his black training robes immaculate, his face an unreadable mask of cold authority. In his right hand, he held three leather leashes, each attached to a slave collar around the neck of a woman crawling behind him on hands and knees.

Lin Qiaoxin moved with an almost cheerful bounce, her twin ponytails swaying as she kept pace. Her neck was encircled by the silver slave collar, and her bare buttocks—already a deep, mottled purple-red from countless previous punishments—swayed with each crawl. Behind her came Li Que, her red hair tied high, her athletic body taut and proud even in this posture. Her rear was similarly bruised, the skin swollen and glossy. Finally, Shen Mengyue followed, her long black hair trailing across the ground, her ethereal beauty undimmed despite her nudity and the humiliation of the leash. Her buttocks were the most severely marked, a tapestry of purple and black, yet she moved with a serene dignity that seemed almost defiant.

Behind them, another woman was dragged by two disciples. She was tall and proud, her robes of crimson and gold marking her as an outsider. This was Murong Ying, sect master of the Heavenly Phoenix Sect, a cultivator at the Divine Transformation mid-stage. Her eyes blazed with fury as she was forced to her knees before the hall.

Xuanfa stopped at the top of the steps, turning to face the assembled disciples. His voice, cold and resonant, carried across the silent crowd.

“The Spanking Phoenix Sect rewards merit. Xin Slave has taught formations with diligence, advancing the skills of our disciples. Yue Slave has managed the affairs of the sect with efficiency and wisdom. Que Slave has defended the honor of the sect, defeating this challenger who dared to question our ways.” He gestured dismissively at Murong Ying. “For their service, they shall be publicly spanked. This is their chosen reward.”

A murmur ran through the disciples. Public spanking was the highest honor in the sect—or the deepest shame, depending on one’s perspective. But the three slave elders knelt obediently, raising their buttocks high in the prescribed posture, their hands flat on the ground before them.

Xuanfa snapped his fingers. Two disciples stepped forward and roughly stripped Murong Ying, tearing away her robes until she stood naked, her pale skin glistening in the morning light. She struggled, but her cultivation was sealed by Xuanfa’s technique, leaving her powerless.

“You will kneel,” Xuanfa said, his voice flat.

“I will not!” Murong Ying spat. “I am the sect master of the Heavenly Phoenix Sect! You cannot—”

Xuanfa’s hand moved, and a finger technique struck her knees, forcing them to buckle. She crashed to the ground, her buttocks landing hard on the stone. Before she could rise, two disciples pushed her forward, forcing her into the same posture as the others—buttocks raised, face down.

“You will receive the same reward as my slaves,” Xuanfa said. “Your defiance has earned you a place in this ceremony.”

Murong Ying’s face burned with humiliation, but she could do nothing.

Xuanfa raised his hand, and four Heavenly Dao Boards materialized in the air, each one a flat slab of glowing jade, the size of a large book. They hovered above the four raised buttocks, ready to strike.

“Begin,” Xuanfa commanded.

The first board descended on Lin Qiaoxin’s rear with a sharp *crack*. The sound echoed across the training grounds. Lin Qiaoxin let out a high-pitched yelp, her body jerking forward, but she held her position.

“Oh, that’s a good one!” she gasped, her voice tight with pain. “Master, you’ve got excellent aim today! Right on the sweet spot!”

The disciples below stared in shock. Some covered their mouths. Others watched with wide, horrified eyes.

The second board struck Li Que. She grunted, her muscles tensing, but she didn’t cry out. Instead, she turned her head slightly to look at Murong Ying, who was trembling beside her.

“How does it feel, challenger?” Li Que asked, her voice strained but mocking. “Your rear isn’t as tough as this board, is it?”

Murong Ying didn’t answer. The third board hit her, a searing blow that made her scream. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt—it went beyond flesh, into her very spirit, demanding submission.

The fourth board struck Shen Mengyue. She let out a soft groan, her back arching, but she remained still. When she spoke, her voice was calm, almost gentle, carrying to the watching disciples.

“Disciples, do not fear this punishment. It is a path to strength. Cultivate diligently, and one day, you too may earn the honor of public spanking. Let this motivate you to strive harder.”

Another blow fell on Lin Qiaoxin. She giggled through the pain.

“Did you hear that, everyone? Big Sister Yue says you can earn this! And let me tell you, once you’ve felt the Heavenly Dao Board, you’ll never want any other kind of spanking! It’s the best! Master, harder! Let them see how much I love it!”

The boards continued in a steady rhythm, each strike precise and devastating. The skin of the four women reddened, then purpled, then swelled. Murong Ying’s screams turned to sobs, then to pleading.

“Please… stop… I yield… I yield to your sect…”

“Yield?” Xuanfa’s voice cut through the air. “You are not a slave. You are a display.”

The boards struck faster. Lin Qiaoxin’s laughter turned into breathless exclamations.

“Oh! Oh! That one—yes! That one will leave a mark for days! Disciples, look at this! This is what dedication looks like!”

Li Que remained silent, her teeth gritted, but a strange light had entered her eyes. This pain, this humiliation—it was a testament to her submission. And she reveled in it.

Shen Mengyue’s voice grew softer with each blow, but she continued to encourage the disciples.

“Endure… accept… this is the way of the female slave… to bear the master’s will… and find freedom in obedience…”

The spanking went on for what seemed like an eternity. By the end, all four buttocks were raw, bleeding in places, the skin split and broken. Murong Ying lay limp, sobbing weakly, her pride shattered. Lin Qiaoxin was panting, but a grin still played on her lips. Li Que’s body was rigid, but she had not made a sound for the last twenty strikes. Shen Mengyue was pale, her breathing shallow, but her eyes were serene.

Xuanfa lowered his hand, and the boards vanished.

“The ceremony is complete. Xin Slave, Yue Slave, Que Slave, you are dismissed to heal. Murong Ying shall be displayed.”

Two disciples came forward with a long, curved metal hook, its end polished to a sharp point. Murong Ying screamed and struggled as they forced her to her feet, then lifted her. The hook was inserted, and she was hung by it from a beam at the mountain gate, her body suspended, her spanked rear exposed to all who entered or left.

Xuanfa turned and walked back into the sect hall, his slaves crawling after him on hands and knees, their battered buttocks swaying with each movement.

Below, the disciples stood in stunned silence, then slowly began to disperse, their minds filled with a mixture of fear, awe, and strange desire. The Spanking Phoenix Sect had made its message clear: here, humiliation was power, and submission was the highest honor.

That morning, Xuanfa walked through the gates of the Spanking Phoenix Sect with three leather leashes in his hand. The leashes trailed behind him, each attached to a leather collar wrapped around the neck of a naked woman crawling on all fours. Lin Qiaoxin moved with a playful bounce in her step, her twin ponytails swaying as she kept pace. Li Que crawled with proud, measured movements, her red hair cascading over her shoulders. Shen Mengyue followed last, her long black hair brushing the ground as she moved with quiet dignity despite her nakedness.

The disciples of the Spanking Phoenix Sect had grown accustomed to the sight over the past weeks, yet it still drew their eyes. They paused in their training, their chores, their conversations, to watch the three Grand Eldresses crawl past. These were the women who had taught them cultivation techniques, who had guided their breakthroughs, who had disciplined them with stern lectures and patient instruction. Now those same women crawled naked on the ground, their breasts swaying, their buttocks exposed to the morning air, following their Master like obedient bitches.

Lin Qiaoxin looked up at a group of young disciples who had stopped to stare. She grinned and waved one hand while still crawling. "Hehe, Master, Xin Slave thinks the disciples are watching Xin Slave."

Li Que glanced back without breaking her crawl. "Haven't they gotten used to it after all this time? Every day we crawl, every day they watch. It's the same routine."

Shen Mengyue's voice came from behind, calm and measured. "Some of them may perform well in the future and become Master's female slaves. Then they will understand what it truly means to serve."

Xuanfa said nothing. He led them through the sect grounds, past the training fields where disciples practiced sword forms, past the meditation hall where elders sat in contemplation, past the dining hall where servants prepared the midday meal. Everywhere they went, eyes followed them. Some disciples bowed their heads in respect. Others stared openly, their faces a mixture of shock and fascination. A few younger disciples blushed and turned away, unable to look at their Grand Eldresses in such a state.

The procession continued until they reached the sect hall entrance. The building stood tall before them, its wooden pillars carved with phoenixes in flight, its roof tiled with vermilion clay. Xuanfa stopped at the base of the steps and turned to face the three women.

"Do you remember how you became my female slaves?" he asked.

Lin Qiaoxin was the first to respond. She sat back on her heels, her hands resting on her thighs, her tailbone pressing against the ground. "Xin Slave remembers, Master. Master appeared directly before Xin Slave and insisted that Xin Slave become Master's female slave. Xin Slave was unwilling at the time and tried to be clever with Master. Master pulled down Xin Slave's skirt and spanked Xin Slave's cute buttocks hard, making Xin Slave cry. Under Master's carrot and stick, Xin Slave became Master's female slave."

Li Que spoke next. She remained on all fours, her red hair falling forward as she looked down at the ground. "Que Slave remembers. I was leading the Vermilion Bird Sect to trouble the Taiqing Palace. I thought I was unmatched at the same realm, but I was defeated by Xin Mei, who was taught by Master. I was spanked hard by Xin Mei's formation, and Master stuffed a ginger strip into my anus. Finally, I was hung on an anal hook for public display. Not knowing my place, I wanted to challenge Master, but was defeated in one move. So Que Slave obediently became Master's female slave."

Lin Qiaoxin giggled and reached out to pat Li Que's hip. "Sister Que, if your buttocks are itchy, Xin Slave can use the formation to spank you anytime."

Li Que shot her a sideways glare. "Keep your formations to yourself, Xin Mei."

Shen Mengyue's voice came last, steady and clear. "Yue Slave remembers. After being punished with Xin Mei and Que Mei in Wuling City, I foolishly refused Master's kindness of taking me as a female slave. Master gave Yue Slave an enema of ginger juice and had Xin Mei and Que Mei spank this ungrateful buttocks with Heavenly Dao Boards from both sides. Yue Slave cried and obediently became Master's female slave."

Xuanfa looked down at them, his face expressionless. "Now, how do you feel about being a female slave and getting spanked?"

Lin Qiaoxin grinned up at him. "Although Master's Heavenly Dao Board hurts like hell on the buttocks, Xin Slave's buttocks now love getting Master's boards most. Xin Slave's buttocks are spanked open every day and are very happy."

Li Que lifted her head, her voice firm. "Que Slave was defeated and taken as Master's female slave. I should obediently accept all Master's humiliation and punishment. Que Slave's buttocks must be spanked open daily as punishment."

Shen Mengyue spoke with quiet acceptance. "Yue Slave was ungrateful to reject Master's kindness in taking me as a female slave. This fault must be repaid by having Yue Slave's buttocks spanked open daily."

All three spoke in unison. "Xin Slave, Que Slave, Yue Slave have all come to love the feeling of being spanked by Master."

A rare smile crossed Xuanfa's lips. "You three are quite aware. Today's punishment will be here. Each of you will be spanked two hundred times directly with the Heavenly Dao Board."

Without hesitation, the three women moved into position. They knelt on the ground, their knees spread wide, their upper bodies lowering until their chests touched the earth. Their buttocks rose high in the air, presented fully to their Master. Lin Qiaoxin's pale cheeks wobbled slightly as she settled into position. Li Que's athletic buttocks were firm and muscular, the skin taut. Shen Mengyue's backside was full and plump, the flesh of a mature woman.

Xuanfa reached into his storage ring and withdrew the Heavenly Dao Board. The wooden paddle was wide and flat, its surface inscribed with spiritual arrays that glowed faintly. He walked behind Lin Qiaoxin first, raising the board high.

The first strike landed with a sharp crack that echoed through the courtyard. Lin Qiaoxin's eyes widened as the pain shot through her buttocks. Her back arched, her fingers dug into the dirt, and she let out a sharp gasp. The red mark bloomed across her left cheek, a perfect rectangle of heat and pain.

Xuanfa struck again, this time on her right cheek. The second crack was louder, the impact sending a shudder through Lin Qiaoxin's body. She whimpered, her knees shifting as she struggled to hold her position.

"Count," Xuanfa said.

"One," Lin Qiaoxin breathed out.

Another strike. Another. The Heavenly Dao Board landed with rhythmic precision, each blow leaving a fresh red mark on her pale skin. By the tenth strike, Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks were fully red, the heat radiating from them in waves. By the twentieth, she was crying out with each impact, her voice a mixture of pain and something deeper, something approaching pleasure.

"Twenty-two," she gasped as the board landed.

Xuanfa moved behind Li Que. The red-haired woman tensed as she felt him approach, her body going rigid. The board struck her left cheek with brutal force. Li Que grunted, her head snapping back, her jaw clenching against the pain. She did not cry out. She would not give him that satisfaction.

The second strike landed on her right cheek. Li Que's breath hissed through her teeth, but she held her silence. Strike after strike fell, turning her athletic buttocks from pale to pink to deep red. The heat spread across her skin, and despite her resolve, a small moan escaped her lips.

"Fifty-two," she said through gritted teeth.

Xuanfa moved to Shen Mengyue. The sect master remained perfectly still, her body positioned precisely, her breath even. The first strike landed on her full buttocks, and the flesh jiggled from the impact. Shen Mengyue closed her eyes, her lips pressing together as she absorbed the pain.

The board rose and fell. Each strike left its mark on Shen Mengyue's plump cheeks, turning them a deep, satisfying red. By the fortieth strike, she was breathing heavily, her fingers digging into the ground. By the sixtieth, she was letting out soft cries with each landing.

"Seventy-one," she whispered.

Xuanfa returned to Lin Qiaoxin. The playful girl's buttocks were already a brilliant red, the skin hot to the touch. He raised the board and brought it down on the same spot as the first strike. Lin Qiaoxin's entire body convulsed. Her eyes rolled back, and a long, shuddering moan escaped her throat.

"Seventy-two," she cried out.

The strikes continued. The courtyard filled with the sound of wood meeting flesh, of sharp cracks and desperate gasps. Lin Qiaoxin's cries grew louder, more frantic, mixing with the wet sounds of her arousal. Between her legs, a thin trail of moisture began to drip down her thighs. The pain had awakened something in her, something that thrilled at the sting of the board.

Xuanfa moved between the three women, alternating his strikes. Each blow was precise, calculated to maximize both pain and pleasure. Li Que's silence finally broke at the ninety-seventh strike. She let out a sharp cry, her body trembling as she struggled to maintain her position.

"Ninety-eight," she called out, her voice cracking.

Moisture began to gather between Li Que's thighs as well. The pain had crossed some threshold, and now it blended with a growing heat deep in her belly. She pressed her forehead against the ground, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Shen Mengyue's composure cracked at the one hundred and thirteenth strike. A full, desperate moan escaped her lips, her body arching as the board landed on her already raw flesh. Between her legs, the wetness was unmistakable, flowing freely down her thighs.

"One hundred and fourteen," she called out, her voice trembling with need.

The strikes continued. The board rose and fell, rose and fell, a relentless rhythm of discipline and desire. Lin Qiaoxin was openly sobbing now, her cries mixing with moans of pleasure. Li Que's body shook with each blow, her voice reduced to broken whispers. Shen Mengyue had surrendered completely, her cries filling the air as she rocked her hips back, pushing her buttocks higher.

At one hundred and seventy-two, Lin Qiaoxin's body convulsed violently. A shudder ran through her from head to toe, and her voice rose in a long, ragged cry as her climax overtook her. Her vaginal muscles clenched and released, sending a fresh wave of moisture down her thighs.

At one hundred and eighty-nine, Li Que followed. The proud warrior's body tensed, her back arching, a guttural sound tearing from her throat as she reached her peak.

At one hundred and ninety-seven, Shen Mengyue's control shattered completely. She threw her head back, her long black hair whipping through the air, a desperate, broken cry filling the courtyard as her body surrendered to the pleasure.

The two hundredth strike landed on Shen Mengyue's buttocks. She collapsed forward, her body limp, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Xuanfa stepped back, the Heavenly Dao Board still in his hand. He looked down at the three women, their buttocks covered in thick red welts, their bodies trembling, their thighs slick with their own moisture.

"You have received two hundred strokes each," he said. "After a period, the Spanking Phoenix Sect will hold its grand ceremony. The highlight of that ceremony will be your five-hundred-stroke punishment."

Lin Qiaoxin lifted her head, her face flushed, her eyes still glazed from her climax. "Xin Slave thanks Master for the punishment."

Li Que forced herself up, her voice steady despite the trembling of her body. "Que Slave thanks Master for the punishment."

Shen Mengyue raised her head slowly, her expression peaceful, accepting. "Yue Slave thanks Master for the punishment."

All three women lowered their heads to the ground, their foreheads touching th

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the vast training grounds of the Spanking Phoenix Sect. Thousands of wooden posts rose in neat rows, each carved with intricate formation patterns that pulsed with faint spiritual light. The air hummed with anticipation as disciples moved through the compound, their bare feet padding softly against the stone pathways.

Xuanfa stood atop the central platform, his black training clothes stark against the pale dawn. His eyes surveyed the grounds with cold satisfaction. One thousand disciples. A small number by the standards of the great sects, but each one had chosen this path willingly, had accepted the price of admission with their own bodies.

The grand ceremony would begin at noon.

Sect servants worked through the morning, arranging silk banners in crimson and gold. The main altar rose three steps above the training grounds, its surface polished white jade. Behind it, a massive board hung suspended in the air—the Heavenly Dao Board, dark wood etched with glowing runes that seemed to drink the light around them.

At the appointed hour, Xuanfa stepped onto the altar. His presence silenced the murmuring crowd instantly.

"Begin," he said, his voice carrying across the grounds without effort.

The disciples moved into position. One thousand naked female cultivators arranged themselves in concentric circles around the altar, their bodies exposed to the sun and to each other's gaze. No shame showed on their faces—only solemn acceptance. They knelt, hands on thighs, eyes forward.

From the sect compound, the elder female slaves emerged. Fifty women crawled on hands and knees, moving in perfect synchronization. Their bodies bore the marks of countless punishments—faint red lines across buttocks and thighs, a testament to their dedication. They arranged themselves in five rows before the altar, kneeling with foreheads touching the ground.

The crowd held its breath.

Xuanfa descended from the altar and walked toward the sect entrance. Three figures waited there, each held by a leather leash that ran from a collar around their necks to Xuanfa's hand.

Lin Qiaoxin crawled at his left, her black double ponytails brushing the ground. Her red dress was gone; she wore nothing but the slave collar and a smile that curved her lips despite her position. Beside her, Li Que moved with athletic grace, her red hair falling forward as she kept her gaze lowered. On Xuanfa's right, Shen Mengyue completed the procession, her long black hair pooling on the stone beneath her as she crawled.

The three most powerful female slaves in the sect. Three Nascent Soul cultivators reduced to crawling on hands and knees like animals.

Xuanfa led them through the crowd of kneeling disciples, past the rows of elder female slaves, and up onto the altar. He stopped at the center, released the leashes, and gestured.

The three knelt beside him. Lin Qiaoxin on his left, Li Que on his right, Shen Mengyue slightly behind. They pressed their foreheads to the jade surface and waited.

Lin Qiaoxin rose first, turning to face the assembled sect. Her voice carried clearly, touched with amusement despite the solemnity of the occasion.

"Sisters of the Spanking Phoenix Sect," she began, "you have all received the board. You have all learned what it means to serve."

She walked to the Heavenly Dao Board and placed her hand upon its surface. The runes flared briefly in response.

"Ordinary sects venerate ancestors. They worship divine artifacts and ancient spirits." She smiled. "We venerate this. The board that corrects. The board that purifies. The board that reminds us of our place."

Li Que stepped forward, her voice firm and proud despite her nakedness. "This sect was founded because the cultivation world forgot itself. Pride led to stagnation. Arrogance led to downfall. The Spanking Phoenix Sect exists to burn away that pride, to rise from the ashes of our own dignity."

She gestured to the kneeling disciples. "You are here because you understood. You accepted that true strength comes not from protecting your buttocks, but from offering them."

Shen Mengyue rose last, her voice soft but penetrating. "The duty of a female slave is to accept. No matter how shameful the position, no matter how painful the punishment, we bear it obediently. We crawl when our master commands. We kneel when we approach. And when we pay respects, we raise our punished buttocks high as an offering."

The three returned to their positions beside Xuanfa and knelt again.

"Present yourselves," Xuanfa said.

The three turned, bent forward, and raised their buttocks high. The scarred flesh caught the sunlight—layers of healed and healing marks from countless spankings. They held the position as the disciples watched, showing exactly what dedication to the sect meant.

Xuanfa nodded once.

The three settled back into kneeling positions, and Lin Qiaoxin began to speak of cultivation techniques. She explained how accepting punishment opened energy channels, how the pain focused the mind, how submitting to the board allowed one to transcend normal limitations.

Li Que followed with practical instruction on formation breaking and combat meditation. She described how she had reached her current realm through perfect submission, how every spanking had refined her spiritual sense.

Shen Mengyue closed the teaching session with words for the elder female slaves. "When you accept punishment, do not resist. Do not tense. Welcome the board. Breathe into the pain. Let it flow through you like spiritual energy. This is how you make your master happy. This is how you advance."

The disciples murmured among themselves, absorbing the wisdom.

Xuanfa raised his hand, and silence returned. From his storage ring, he produced pill bottles that floated through the air, distributing themselves to every disciple. One pill each—high-grade Spirit Convergence Pills worth ten thousand spirit stones on the open market.

He selected five disciples from the crowd based on their formation work during the teaching session. They approached trembling, a mixture of fear and excitement written on their faces.

"You have shown potential," Xuanfa said. "You will become female slaves."

The five knelt. Xuanfa produced slave collars and locked them around their necks. The collars hummed with binding formation power.

"Crawl to your place among the elders," he commanded.

The five new slaves dropped to hands and knees and crawled to join the fifty elders. Their movements were awkward at first, but they adjusted quickly, settling into the rows of kneeling women.

Fifty-five female slaves now knelt before the altar. Xuanfa raised his hand, and the Heavenly Dao Board began to pulse.

"First punishment," he announced. "Two hundred boards for each elder female slave."

The board split into countless copies, each hovering above a kneeling woman. The slaves arranged themselves into five rows, bent forward, and raised their buttocks high.

The boards fell.

The sound echoed across the training grounds like thunder. A hundred boards striking at once, then another hundred, then another. The rhythm was relentless, merciless.

The elder slaves took the punishment with varying degrees of composure. Some cried out with every strike, tears streaming down their faces. Others bit their lips until they bled, refusing to make a sound. A few smiled through the pain, having learned exactly what Lin Qiaoxin had taught them.

The new slaves struggled most. Their buttocks had been spanked before, but not like this. Not with the Heavenly Dao Board. The rune-enhanced wood bit deeper than ordinary implements, leaving marks that would take days to heal.

One new slave tried to dodge. The board followed her movement and struck harder. Xuanfa's gaze turned cold.

"Blocking the punishment adds ten boards," he said.

The slave sobbed and held her position. The board continued its work, counting out two hundred and ten strikes before stopping.

When the punishment ended, the fifty-five elder slaves remained in position, buttocks raised, displaying the fresh red marks that covered their flesh. Some wept quietly. Others breathed heavily through the pain.

Xuanfa walked among them, inspecting his work. He nodded once, satisfied.

"Rise and kneel," he commanded.

The slaves settled into kneeling positions, hands on thighs.

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue remained on the altar as Xuanfa turned to face them.

The three women rose and walked to the center of the altar. Lin Qiaoxin's ponytails swung as she moved, her youthful body completely exposed. Li Que's athletic frame tensed with anticipation, the muscles in her back standing out as she prepared. Shen Mengyue's pale skin seemed to glow in the afternoon light, her mature figure drawing the eyes of every disciple present.

They knelt in unison, pressed their foreheads to the ground, and kowtowed three times.

"Master," they said together, "we submit to your will. We accept your punishment. We offer our buttocks for your correction."

Xuanfa looked down at them. "Five hundred boards. The heaviest punishment ever given in this sect."

"We understand," Shen Mengyue said softly. "We accept."

"Five hundred is too few," Lin Qiaoxin said, a hint of her usual mischief in her voice. "Make it six hundred."

Xuanfa's eyes narrowed. "Six hundred, then."

Li Que glared at Lin Qiaoxin. "You couldn't keep your mouth shut for once?"

"Six hundred will be more fun," Lin Qiaoxin replied, winking.

"Enough," Xuanfa said. "Assume the position."

The three turned, knelt properly, and bent forward until their foreheads touched the ground. Their buttocks rose high, presented perfectly for punishment. Lin Qiaoxin's round cheeks quivered slightly. Li Que's athletic curves tensed in anticipation. Shen Mengyue's fuller flesh spread beautifully, highlighting the marks of previous spankings.

The Heavenly Dao Board descended from its pedestal and multiplied into three copies. Each hovered above a raised buttock, runes glowing bright crimson.

"Begin," Xuanfa commanded.

The first strikes fell simultaneously.

The crack of wood against flesh shattered the silence. Lin Qiaoxin gasped, her body jerking forward. Li Que grunted, her hands clenching into fists. Shen Mengyue stayed still, her breath catching in her throat.

The boards struck again. And again. The rhythm was faster than the elders had endured, each strike landing with precision that spoke of absolute control.

By the hundredth board, their buttocks were crimson. By the two hundredth, purple bruises spread across the flesh. By the three hundredth, small cuts had opened, beading blood that dripped down their thighs.

Lin Qiaoxin had stopped joking. Her breath came in ragged gasps, tears streaming down her face. But she held her position, her body shaking with each impact.

"You can take it," she whispered to herself between strikes. "You've taken worse. You love this."

Li Que had gone silent. Her entire body was rigid, muscles straining against the pain. Blood ran from her lip where she had bitten through. But she did not cry out, did not flinch.

Shen Mengyue wept openly, tears falling to pool on the jade beneath her. But her position remained perfect, her buttocks still raised high even as they turned black and blue.

"Four hundred," Xuanfa announced.

The boards continued their work. The disciples watched in stunned silence, witnessing what it meant to be a Grand Elder female slave. This was not punishment for failure. This was devotion made manifest.

Lin Qiaoxin began to moan between her gasps. The moans shifted, changed, became something that sounded almost like pleasure.

"Master," she breathed, "harder."

Li Que's eyes widened at the words. But even as she judged, she felt something shifting in her own body. The pain was no longer just pain. It was becoming heat, pressure, something building in her core.

Shen Mengyue recognized the sensation. She had felt it before, in their private sess

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