玄罚天尊的惩罚第二部

The morning sun cast long shadows across the grounds of 责凰门, illuminating the naked bodies of three women crawling on their hands and knees behind a tall man in black. A leash of braided black cord connected them to his hand, each woman attached by her metal collar, moving in perfect synchronization as they followed their master through the main courtyard.

林巧心 moved on the left, her twin tails bouncing with each crawl. Her breasts swayed beneath her, and her round bottom wiggled as she kept pace. 离雀 crawled on the right, her fiery red hair swept back in a high ponytail that trailed behind her. Her athletic body moved with controlled power, each step deliberate. 沈梦月 followed directly behind the other two, her long black hair sweeping the ground as she kept her head low, her mature curves shifting with each movement of her hips.

Disciples of 责凰门 moved out of their path, all naked as well, bowing deeply as the procession passed. None dared meet the eyes of the three crawling women, for they knew that outside these walls, these same women were forces of terror that made even the bravest cultivators tremble.

"You have all broken through to 化神后期," Xuanfa said, his voice flat and without emotion. He stopped walking, and the three women halted immediately, pressing their foreheads to the ground.

"It is only because of our master's generous punishments and the spiritual energy of the 玄天界 that we were able to break through in three hundred years," 沈梦月 said, her voice soft and reverent. She kept her face pressed to the dirt.

The other two echoed her words, their voices genuine and full of gratitude. "Thank you, master, for punishing our bottoms and allowing us to cultivate in your realm."

Xuanfa turned to face them, his cold eyes scanning their prostrate forms. "Now that you have reached 化神后期, I have a mission for the three of you."

He reached into his robe and produced three lengths of golden chain, each link glowing with faint runes. The 困仙锁 hummed with power as he handed them to the three women, who received them with both hands, still kneeling.

"白枕霜, the 天剑宗 master, has spoken disrespectfully of our sect," Xuanfa said, his tone hardening. "花千语, the 百花谷谷 master, allowed her disciples to occupy our medicinal gardens. And 苏千瑶, the 魔族 saintess, used her charm techniques to confuse the minds of our disciples."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "You three will go to them. Tell them they are to strip naked, crawl to the mouth of 责凰门 mountain, present their bottoms, and receive one hundred strikes of the 天道木板 every day for ten years. This is a light punishment."

他的嘴角微微上扬了一下，却没有任何温度。

"If they resist, you will defeat them and bind them with these chains. Bring them back here so I may personally teach them their place."

"We understand, master." 林巧心 said, her voice bright despite the serious content of the mission. She looked up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "But master, now that we have broken through to 化神后期, we request an increase in our daily punishment. Four hundred strikes instead of two hundred."

Xuanfa's eyebrow rose slightly, the closest thing to surprise he ever showed. "So you have grown to love the feeling of the board on your bottoms?"

All three women nodded, not an ounce of shame in their expressions.

"Yes, master." 离雀 said, her proud voice carrying a hint of eagerness. "The pain reminds us of your ownership. The heat spreads through our bodies and fills us with purpose."

沈梦月 added softly, "We live to serve you, master. To be punished by your hand, or by tools of your choosing, brings us closer to you."

Xuanfa let out a soft laugh, a sound that held no warmth but acknowledged their devotion. "When you complete this mission, I will increase your punishment accordingly."

The three women pressed their foreheads to the ground again, their voices united. "Thank you, master, for your generosity."

"Now," Xuanfa said, turning and walking toward a stone platform at the center of the courtyard, "we will finish today's punishment first."

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. From the shadows of the main hall emerged three young women, each appearing around eighteen years of age. They walked with the same naked grace as their mothers, their bodies bare except for the black collars around their necks.

林语心 had the same youthful features as 林巧心, her double bun hairstyle framing a face full of mischief. 离云翎 carried herself with the same cool pride as 离雀, her movements controlled and precise. 沈星眠 possessed a gentle beauty that mirrored 沈梦月 perfectly, her long black hair flowing behind her.

The three young women approached the platform and knelt before Xuanfa, pressing their foreheads to the stone.

"We greet our master," they said in perfect unison.

Xuanfa looked down at them, his expression unchanged. "Your mothers' bottoms are feeling itchy today. You will take the 天道木板 and strike each of them two hundred times. After that, you will make them spread their legs and whip their 臀缝 one hundred times each."

"Understood, master," the three young women replied, their voices carrying no hint of reluctance or disgust. They rose gracefully and walked toward the punishment racks lined against the wall, each retrieving a thick wooden board that glowed with faint celestial light.

林巧心, 离雀, and 沈梦月 had already positioned themselves on the platform, kneeling with their upper bodies lowered until their chests touched the stone, their bottoms raised high in the air. They spread their legs slightly, presenting themselves fully.

"Come now, 语心," 林巧心 called out to her daughter, her voice cheerful. "You must swing from the shoulder, not the wrist. Let the weight of the board do the work. Strike right here—" she reached back and patted the fullest part of her right buttock, "—that's where it hurts the most. And when you hit the left side, angle it slightly so the edge catches me. That will leave the deepest bruises."

林语心 nodded, positioning herself beside her mother. She took a practice swing, and 林巧心 nodded approvingly.

"Yes, yes, just like that. Now, don't be gentle. Your mother can take it. I want to feel this for days."

Across from them, 离雀 was giving similar instructions to her daughter. "My bottom is tougher than most. You will need to use your full strength. Do not pull your swings. Follow through completely. And when you whip my 臀缝, make sure the tip of the lash covers both my 小穴 and my 屁眼. I want to feel the fire everywhere."

离云翎's cool expression didn't waver. "Understood, mother."

沈梦月 knelt in the center, her voice soft as she spoke to 沈星眠. "Be gentle with yourself, daughter. Do not strain your arm. And remember that every strike is a gift from master. Let your heart be filled with gratitude as you swing."

沈星眠's eyes glistened with emotion. "Yes, mother."

Xuanfa raised his hand and let it fall.

The first strike echoed across the courtyard.

林语心 swung the 天道木板 with all her might, the board connecting with 林巧心's right buttock with a sound like thunder. The flesh rippled beneath the impact, and a bright red imprint bloomed across the pale skin.

林巧心 gasped, her body shuddering, but she let out a breathy laugh. "Ah, yes! That's it! Again!"

离云翎's swing was calculated and precise. The board struck 离雀's bottom with perfect form, the impact centered exactly where she had been instructed. 离雀's body stiffened, but she held her position, her fingers gripping the stone edge of the platform.

"Good," she said through clenched teeth. "Continue."

沈星眠's swing was lighter, but 沈梦月 shook her head gently. "Harder, my daughter. Do not fear hurting me. The pain brings me closer to master. It is a gift."

沈星眠 nodded, tears streaming down her face, and swung again with more force. The board struck 沈梦月's bottom, and the older woman let out a soft moan of pleasure.

The rhythm of punishment continued. Strike after strike, the 天道木板 rose and fell. The three mothers guided their daughters with encouragement and corrections, teaching them how to inflict the most exquisite pain.

"Shift your stance," 离雀 instructed between strikes. "You're favoring your right side. Your left swings are weaker."

离云翎 adjusted her footing and delivered a crushing blow to the left side of her mother's bottom. 离雀's breath caught, and she nodded approvingly.

"Better."

林巧心 laughed through each impact, her voice carrying across the courtyard. "Oh, that one tingled all the way to my toes! Do it again!"

林语心 obliged, striking the same spot with even more force.

As the strikes accumulated, the three mothers' bottoms transformed from pale white to angry red, then to deep purple, and finally to a mottled black-and-blue. The skin split in places, thin lines of blood trickling down their thighs. Yet none of them cried out in pain. Instead, their bodies responded with unmistakable signs of arousal, their 小穴 growing wet, their breathing quickening.

Finally, after two hundred strikes each, the daughters set down the boards and retrieved thin leather whips from the rack.

"Now spread your legs wide," 沈星眠 said, her voice trembling slightly.

The three mothers obeyed, reaching back to grip their own buttocks and pull them apart, exposing their 臀缝 completely. Their 小穴 glistened with moisture, and their 屁眼s were tight and visible.

"Whip from top to bottom," 林巧心 instructed her daughter. "Start at the top of the crack and let the lash travel down. Cover both holes. And don't stop until you've hit every inch."

林语心 raised the whip and brought it down with a sharp crack. The leather bit into the tender skin of 林巧心's 臀缝, leaving a red line that crossed both her 小穴 and her 屁眼.

林巧心 cried out, but it was a sound of ecstasy, not pain. "Yes! Again!"

The whips rose and fell in a steady rhythm, each strike leaving a burning line across the most sensitive parts of the three mothers' bodies. Ninety-nine more strikes followed, each one precise and deliberate.

When the last strike landed, all three mothers collapsed onto the platform, their bodies trembling, their bottoms a ruin of purple and black, their 臀缝 covered in red welts. But their faces showed nothing but satisfaction.

"Thank you, master," they breathed in unison. "Thank you for the punishment."

New章 节

Xuanfa nodded once, then turned his gaze to the three young women. "Now it is your turn."

林语心, 离云翎, and 沈星眠 immediately knelt and pressed their foreheads to the stone. "We are ready to receive our master's punishment."

"Since you are still in the 金丹 stage, the 天道木板 would be too harsh," Xuanfa said. "You will receive one hundred strikes of the 玄木板."

He raised his hand, and six 玄木板 floated out from the punishment rack, three pairs hovering in the air. The boards were slightly thinner than the 天道木板 but still formidable, glowing with a soft earthen light.

"Position yourselves," Xuanfa commanded.

The three young women crawled onto the platform, arranging themselves beside their mothers. They knelt, lowered their chests, and raised their bottoms high, just as their mothers had done.

"Remember, my daughter," 沈梦月 whispered, her voice hoarse from her own punishment, "a good slave accepts all pain from master with gratitude. This is not a humiliation. It is an honor."

沈星眠 nodded, tears still streaming. "I understand, mother."

林巧心 reached out and patted 林语心's cheek. "Don't you dare hold back your cries. Let master hear how much you appreciate his attention!"

林语心 grinned through her nervousness. "Yes, mother."

离雀 simply looked at her daughter and said, "Endure."

The six 玄木板 moved as if guided by invisible hands. They rose high into the air and fell simultaneously, striking the three upturned bottoms with synchronized precision.

The sound was different from the 天道木板—lower, more solid, like stone striking flesh. The three young women gasped in unison, their bodies jolting forward from the impact.

"Stay in position," Xuanfa said coolly.

The boards rose and fell again, striking the same spots. Red marks appeared on the pale skin of the three daughters, spr

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the mountain path as the魔族's sacred flame banners appeared on the horizon. Sixty-seven figures moved in perfect formation, their armor gleaming with the dark luster of enchanted metal. At their head strode a woman with sharp features and eyes like burning coals—A Zi, a cultivator at the peak of mid-stage Nascent Soul. Behind her, sixty-six elite guards, all at late-stage Nascent Soul, moved as a single entity, their breathing synchronized, their steps falling in perfect unison.

They had trained for decades in the合击 formation, a technique that allowed them to combine their power so effectively that even three or four Transcending Tribulation cultivators would find themselves hard-pressed to break through their ranks. The air around them hummed with the collective pressure of their cultivation.

As they rounded the final bend, the scene before them stopped them dead in their tracks.

Su Qianyao knelt at the entrance of Blame Phoenix Gate, her silver hair cascading down her back, her hands bound behind her with chains that gleamed with restrictive runes. Her bare body was on full display, and even from this distance, A Zi could see the vivid red marks that painted her mistress's buttocks. The sight sent a surge of fury through her veins.

"Blame Phoenix Gate!" A Zi's voice thundered across the mountain, amplified by her cultivation. "Release the Saintess immediately, or face the wrath of the Sacred Flame Sect!"

For a moment, silence answered her. Then, from the shadows of the mountain gate, two figures emerged.

Bai Zhenshuang stepped into the light first, and the breath caught in every throat that beheld her. Her black hair fell like a waterfall of midnight silk past her shoulders, framing a face of such perfect icy beauty that it seemed carved from jade. Her features were sharp and noble, carrying an air of innate superiority that had intimidated countless disciples. Her body, now completely bare beneath the sun, was a study in contrasts: a slender waist that curved into hips that flared wide and proud, buttocks that were full and round yet firm, and breasts that stood high and proud upon her chest. Her skin was pale as snow, unmarred by even a single blemish. But what struck the guards most was not her beauty—it was her bearing. She walked as if she were wearing the finest silk, her shoulders back, her head high, her eyes carrying the same cold arrogance they had always known. Not a hint of shame colored her cheeks.

Beside her, Hua Qianyu moved with a gentle grace that seemed to soften the very air around her. Her hair was a shade of deep green, the color of young bamboo leaves, loosely tied back with a few strands falling to frame her face. Her features were soft and gentle, her eyes holding a warmth that seemed at odds with her current state. Her body was fuller than Bai Zhenshuang's, with curves that spoke of maturity and motherhood, her breasts heavy and soft, her hips wide and welcoming, her stomach bearing a slight softness that only added to her appeal. Her skin held a faint golden undertone, the mark of a lifetime spent cultivating the healing arts under the sun of her medicinal gardens. Like Bai Zhenshuang, she showed no sign of shame, walking with the same natural poise as if she were still wearing her robes.

The contrast between their nudity and the fully armored guards was jarring, almost surreal. Here stood two women who had commanded respect and fear across the entire cultivation world, completely bare before dozens of eyes, yet carrying themselves with more dignity than the soldiers who stood before them.

A Zi's eyes widened in recognition. "The Sword Immortal of Heaven Sword Sect... the Medicine Immortal of Hundred Flowers Valley..." She shook her head, her voice rising with disbelief. "What... what is the meaning of this? Have both of you fallen so low as to join this degenerate sect?"

Bai Zhenshuang's lips curved into a faint, cold smile. "You misunderstand, Captain A Zi. I am no longer the Sect Master of Heaven Sword Sect." She paused, letting her words sink in. "By the grace of Lord Xuanfa, I have been accepted as his slave, granted the name Frost Slave. Every day, I receive the punishment of the spanking board upon my buttocks, and I am grateful for it."

The guards exchanged looks of shock and horror. Before they could respond, Hua Qianyu spoke, her voice gentle but carrying unmistakable authority.

"And I am no longer the Valley Master of Hundred Flowers Valley. By the grace of Lord Xuanfa, I have been granted the name Herb Slave. Every day, I must receive the punishment of the spanking board as well." She smiled warmly. "And I assure you, your Saintess Su Qianyao is here of her own free will. She chooses to stay."

"You lie!" A Zi's voice cracked with fury. "You have corrupted her mind with some foul technique! Release her or face our blades!"

Bai Zhenshuang's hand went to her waist, where a sword would have hung. No weapon was there, but when she spread her fingers, frost began to crystallize in the air around them. "If you wish to test your blades against us, then come."

A Zi gave no further warning. She raised her hand, and the sixty-seven guards moved as one, their formation collapsing into a deadly spiral of blades and spells. The air crackled with power as they launched their attack.

Bai Zhenshuang's凝霜 sword materialized in her hand, the blade gleaming with frozen light. Hua Qianyu's hands glowed with verdant energy as she began weaving healing and defensive spells.

And then the battle began.

*CRACK*

The sound of a wooden board striking flesh echoed across the mountain, cutting through the clash of steel and the roar of spells. Su Qianyao's body jerked forward as the board landed on her already tender buttocks, and a moan escaped her lips—not a cry of pain, but something far more sensual.

"Ahhh... yes... please... more..."

A Zi's concentration wavered for just a moment. That voice—she had heard the Saintess utter many sounds over the years, but never anything quite like that. The moan was pure pleasure, undisguised and unashamed.

*CRACK*

Another blow fell, and another moan answered it. The guards who were closest to the Saintess could see clearly now—her buttocks, already an angry red, were beginning to purple, droplets of dampness gleaming between her thighs. And still she writhed, not in pain, but in ecstasy.

"How dare you!" A Zi screamed, pushing her attack harder. "How dare you defile the Saintess like this!"

Bai Zhenshuang's凝霜 sword swept through the formation, scattering three guards. "Defile? She told you herself—she wants this. She has always wanted someone to break her."

*CRACK*

Su Qianyao's body arched, her head thrown back, her silver hair whipping through the air. Her voice rose, trembling with pleasure, "More... harder... please... beat your瑶奴's sinful ass into oblivion..."

The guards faltered. They had trained their entire lives to protect the Saintess, to lay down their lives for her honor. And here she was, begging to be beaten, moaning with pleasure as her buttocks turned black and blue beneath the relentless assault of the spanking board.

*CRACK*

A shudder ran through Su Qianyao's body. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed forward, her face pressed against the ground. But even as she did, her hips pushed upward, presenting her ruined buttocks for another blow.

And then it happened.

A gush of fluid burst from between her thighs, splattering against the ground beneath her. Her body convulsed once, twice, a long, shuddering moan escaping her lips as she reached climax.

One of the guards, a young woman with barely concealed horror in her eyes, whispered loud enough for all to hear, "Impossible... the Saintess... she was brought to climax by being beaten..."

The formation shattered.

Not from any external attack, but from within. The guards' morale, their belief in their cause, their very sense of justice—all of it crumbled at the sight of their Saintess, writhing in pleasure as her bare buttocks were beaten to a pulp.

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu pressed their advantage. Without the formation to protect them, the guards were no match for two late-stage Transcending Tribulation cultivators. Within moments, the battlefield was littered with groaning figures, their weapons scattered, their armor dented and cracked.

Su Qianyao lay on the ground, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her buttocks a grotesque patchwork of purple and black. She lifted her head weakly, meeting the eyes of her defeated guards. "Sisters... your瑶奴 speaks the truth. I choose to be here. I have always wanted... someone to beat my worthless ass until it breaks apart. Lord Xuanfa... he... he gives me what I need."

A Zi stared at her former mistress, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. For a long moment, no one moved. Then, slowly, A Zi lowered her head.

"Retreat."

The guards, those who could move, helped their fallen comrades to their feet. They retreated in silence, their eyes never leaving the sight of their Saintess, kneeling naked and broken at the feet of her new master.

As the last of the guards disappeared around the bend, Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu turned and walked back through the mountain gate. They made their way to the main hall, where Xuanfa sat upon his black throne, his face as impassive as carved stone.

"Report," he said.

Bai Zhenshuang knelt before him, her head bowed. "The Saintess's guards have been repelled, Master. They will not trouble us again."

Hua Qianyu knelt beside her. "The guards have seen the truth with their own eyes. The Saintess's pleasure was undeniable. Their morale has been shattered."

Xuanfa's eyes flickered with something—maybe approval, maybe amusement. It was impossible to tell. "You have performed well. Frost Slave. Herb Slave."

Both women felt a warmth spread through their chests at his words of praise. He rarely offered such recognition.

"I have a new task for you," Xuanfa continued. "Bi Luo Palace's Palace Master, Yun Qing'er, has allowed her disciples to come into conflict with my sect repeatedly. Nine Serenity Valley's Valley Master, You Lan, has been equally negligent in controlling her subordinates." His voice carried no anger, only cold judgment. "These minor sects, without even a single Transcending Tribulation cultivator, need to be taught a lesson in discipline."

He rose from his throne, walking to stand before his two kneeling slaves. "Go to Bi Luo Palace. Go to Nine Serenity Valley. Inform the Palace Masters and Valley Masters that they, along with every disciple who has raised a hand against my sect, are to strip naked of their own accord, kneel at the entrance of Blame Phoenix Gate, bare their buttocks, and receive one hundred strokes of the Celestial Spanking Board every day for three years."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "If they resist, the punishment will be more severe. They will not survive it."

"Yes, Master." Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu spoke in unison.

"Go."

Bai Zhenshuang rose first, her body still bare, her凝霜 sword once again absent from her hand. She walked out of the hall without a backward glance, and within moments, she had stepped out of the main gate and taken to the air.

The journey to Bi Luo Palace was short. Within an hour, she stood before the grand gates of the sect, her naked body on full display for the guards who stood watch.

The guards' eyes widened. They recognized her—Bai Zhenshuang, the Sword Immortal, the most feared female cultivator of her generation. And here she stood, completely bare, as if she had not a care in the world.

Bai Zhenshuang walked forward, her steps measured and calm. The guards parted before her, too stunned to react. She walked through the main courtyard, past the training grounds where disciples stopped mid-stance to stare, past the main temple where elders gathered to gossip, until she stood before the main hall of the sect.

Her bod

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

The six women knelt naked on the cold stone floor of the hall, their heads bowed low, their hands resting palms-up on their thighs. The black slave collars around their necks caught the dim light, gleaming like dark promises.

“Rise and report,” Xuanfa said, his voice flat, his black training robes immaculate. He sat upon a simple stone throne, his fingers steepled before him.

Lin Qiaoxin lifted her head first, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Heart Slave reports, Master. The cultivation world is buzzing with talk of us. They call us Xuanfa Tianzun’s six concubines, the ones who roam the lands naked and bring punishment to any woman who dares offend our Master.” She giggled. “Heart Slave has personally corrected the buttocks of seventeen female cultivators this month alone, each one more deserving than the last.”

Li Que snorted, her red hair falling across her face. “Phoenix Slave has corrected twenty-three. Each one begged for mercy by the tenth stroke, but Phoenix Slave gave them all a full hundred. Their screams were quite satisfying.”

Shen Mengyue spoke calmly, her voice like flowing water. “Moon Slave has focused on correcting the disciples of sects who spoke ill of our Master. Forty-two in total. Each one now understands that words have consequences for their buttocks.”

Bai Zhenshuang’s voice was cold, her expression unchanging. “Frost Slave has corrected thirty-eight sword cultivators who thought their pride was worth more than their respect for Xuanfa Tianzun. None of them think so anymore.”

Hua Qianyu’s voice was gentle, almost motherly. “Flower Slave has corrected twenty-five. Their buttocks were quite red afterward, but Flower Slave applied healing balm after the punishment, as is proper.”

Su Qianyao sauntered forward slightly, her silver hair cascading over her full breasts, her red eyes gleaming with mischief. “Demon Slave has been busy, Master. Not only with punishments, but with recruitment. I found a talented young female cultivator named Nangong Xue. She has astonishing talent in water arts. I brought her back to Zehuang Sect.”

Li Que looked up sharply. “And how is she adjusting?”

Su Qianyao’s smile turned wicked. “Snow妹妹 resists quite fiercely. She refuses to accept her place.”

Li Que’s eyes lit up with predatory glee. “Hand her to Phoenix Slave. I will beat her buttocks red fifty times, then beat them purple fifty more, then beat them black a hundred times after that. If she still dares to be stubborn, we will start again from red. I guarantee you, by the end, she will be the most obedient little slave in the sect.”

Xuanfa nodded slowly, his face betraying no emotion. “You six have performed well. From now on, when you meet with me, you do not need to kneel. Merely bow.”

The six women exchanged looks of stunned pleasure. Tears welled in some of their eyes. To be granted such an honor by their Master was beyond anything they had expected.

“Master is too kind!” Lin Qiaoxin exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion.

“Phoenix Slave does not deserve such grace,” Li Que murmured, though her back straightened with pride.

Shen Mengyue’s lips trembled. “Moon Slave will remember this kindness forever.”

Bai Zhenshuang’s cold mask cracked slightly, a faint flush appearing on her cheeks. “Frost Slave is honored.”

Hua Qianyu pressed her hand to her heart. “Flower Slave will strive to be worthy of this trust.”

Su Qianyao licked her lips, her eyes half-lidded. “Demon Slave will make sure to earn this privilege every single day, Master.”

Xuanfa raised his hand, and a black leather belt appeared in his palm. Then another, and another, until six identical belts floated before him. They were made from blackened scales, each one shimmering with a dark, oily light.

“These are magical tools refined from the hide of the Ink Flood Dragon,” Xuanfa said. “They are called the Shadow Chase Belts. When you channel spiritual energy into them, they will automatically track and spank you, no matter what position you are in, no matter where you move. They are not as painful as the Heavenly Wood Board, but they serve well for supplemental punishment.”

Su Qianyao’s face lit up with pure, unadulterated joy. She snatched her belt from the air and pressed it to her ample chest. “Master truly bestows a wonderful treasure upon Demon Slave! This greedy buttocks of mine cannot even get enough from four hundred strokes a day. Now I can use the Shadow Chase Belt to beat my own greedy backside every single moment!”

Lin Qiaoxin clapped her hands. “Does this mean I can be spanked anytime I want? Even while I am teaching formations? Even while I am eating? This is wonderful!”

Li Que took her belt with a fierce grin. “Phoenix Slave will use the maximum spiritual energy to drive this belt. I will make sure it beats my buttocks until they are completely destroyed.”

Shen Mengyue accepted the belt gracefully, bowing her head. “Moon Slave thanks Master for this generous gift. I will use it well to punish my buttocks every day.”

Hua Qianyu examined her belt with gentle reverence. “Flower Slave will make sure to use this tool properly. I guarantee my buttocks will be properly beaten.”

Bai Zhenshuang took her belt without expression, but her voice held a trace of warmth. “Frost Slave will repay the gift of this treasure by punishing my buttocks until they are completely ruined.”

---

The training grounds of Zehuang Sect stretched out beneath a sky of eternal twilight. Female disciples moved through their drills, naked as the day they were born, their bodies gleaming with sweat, their movements precise and purposeful. Among them, the six slave elders taught their respective arts.

Shen Mengyue and Bai Zhenshuang stood before a group of a hundred disciples, their bodies bare, their slave collars shining. Behind each of them, a black leather belt hovered, then snapped forward with a sharp CRACK.

CRACK!

The belt struck Shen Mengyue’s buttocks, sending a ripple through her flesh. She did not flinch. Her voice remained calm as she demonstrated a sword stroke.

“The wrist must be relaxed,” she said, her blade cutting through the air.

CRACK! Another blow landed, this time lower, striking the curve of her right cheek. The sound was filling the training ground, but Shen Mengyue did not even blink.

“Follow through with the hips,” she continued, turning slowly to show the movement.

Behind her, the belt was a blur. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! It struck her in a steady rhythm, one blow every two seconds, each one landing with enough force to turn a mortal’s buttocks to pulp. Shen Mengyue’s rear end bounced and jiggled with each impact, her flesh rippling like waves on a stormy sea. Red welts began to form, crisscrossing her pale skin in a lattice of pain. But she continued her lecture as if no punishment was happening at all.

“Do not grip the sword too tightly,” she said, her voice serene. “Let it become an extension of your will.”

A few meters away, Bai Zhenshuang was teaching a different group. Her sword was a flash of silver, her movements precise and lethal. Behind her, her own Shadow Chase Belt was working just as diligently.

CRACK! The belt caught her just as she lunged forward, snapping against her full buttocks with a sound like thunder. Bai Zhenshuang’s hips bucked slightly from the impact, but her expression remained one of cold concentration.

“Your stance is too wide,” she said to a trembling disciple. “Narrow it by three fingers.”

CRACK! CRACK! The belt hammered her repeatedly, landing on the same spot until a deep purple bruise began to form. Bai Zhenshuang did not so much as wince. She stepped forward to adjust a disciple’s hand position, her buttocks bouncing from the constant assault.

Behind the disciples, the sound was a constant symphony of punishment. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The belts were relentless, never pausing, never slowing. They followed the six elders wherever they went, as faithful as shadows, as merciless as whips.

---

At another training ground, Li Que taught combat techniques. Her body was a weapon, her red hair streaming behind her as she demonstrated a devastating kick. Behind her, her belt was working overtime.

CRACK! The belt struck her as she spun, catching her on the left cheek. Li Que grunted, her body twisting from the blow, but she used the momentum to land a perfect follow-up strike against an invisible opponent.

“Speed is everything,” she said, her voice strained but steady. “If you hesitate, you die.”

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Her belt was set to maximum spiritual energy, just as she had promised. Each blow left a dark red mark, then purple, then black. Her buttocks were a tapestry of bruises, swelling and reddening with every passing minute. But Li Que did not stop. She did not slow down. She continued her demonstration, kicking and punching, taking the punishment as if it were a mild discomfort.

“Again!” she barked at a disciple who had stumbled. “Do it again until you get it right!”

CRACK! The belt caught her on the upper curve of her rump, and she stumbled slightly, but caught herself. “Do not stop!” she shouted. “Your bodies are nothing. Your pain is nothing. Only victory matters!”

---

Lin Qiaoxin sat cross-legged in the center of a formation circle, surrounded by a dozen disciples who were learning array techniques. Her twin tails bounced as she gestured, explaining the flow of spiritual energy through the formation nodes.

Behind her, her belt was working with clockwork precision. CRACK! Every three seconds, it landed on her upturned bottom. Her buttocks, round and firm, were turning a deep cherry red, the skin glossy with the beginning of swelling.

“The key to this formation is balance,” she said, pointing to a glowing node. “If the energy flows too quickly here, it will overwhelm the stabilizing rune here.”

CRACK! The belt caught the underside of her right cheek, sending her body bouncing forward. She giggled, adjusting her position. “Oh my, that one was strong! Good belt, good belt!”

The disciples stared at her, some horrified, some fascinated. Lin Qiaoxin just smiled and continued her lesson.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The belt continued its merciless rhythm. Lin Qiaoxin’s buttocks bounced and jiggled with every blow, the flesh quivering from the impact. Her voice remained bright and cheerful as she explained the next step.

“And then you add a suppression rune here, see? It will keep the energy contained until you need to release it.”

CRACK! This one landed right on her sit spot, and she squirmed slightly, but her smile never wavered.

---

In the alchemy hall, Hua Qianyu was teaching a group of disciples the art of refining healing pills. Her hands moved gracefully over a cauldron, her voice soft and patient.

“The temperature must be carefully controlled,” she said. “Too hot, and the pill will be ruined. Too cold, and the medicinal properties will not fully manifest.”

Behind her, her belt was working steadily. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The blows landed on her plump buttocks, sending waves through her generous flesh. Her cheeks were turning a mottled red and purple, the skin beginning to swell from the constant abuse.

“Focus on your breathing,” she continued, as if nothing was happening. “Let the spiritual energy flow through you like water.”

CRACK! The belt caught her particularly hard, and she gasped slightly, but steadied herself on the edge of the cauldron. “The pill is almost ready. Prepare the cooling basin.”

The disciples hurried to obey. Behind Hua Qianyu, the belt continued its work. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The sound echoed through the hall, mingling with the bubbling of the cauldron and the soft, steady voice of the teacher.

---

Su Qianyao taught the art of mental strength and illusion in a separate chamber. Her silver hair flowed around her, her red eyes glowing softly as she demonstrated a technique to shield the mind from attack.

Behind her, her belt was working with particular enthusiasm. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! E

（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 stone plaza before the Tianjian Sect’s grand entrance. The disciple on duty at the gate rubbed his eyes, certain that the morning mist was playing tricks on him. But as the figure drew closer, stepping barefoot across the dewy stones, his breath caught in his throat.

A woman approached the gates—completely naked.

Her black hair cascaded past her waist, swaying with each graceful step. Her skin was flawless, pale as the finest jade, combining the freshness of youth with the alluring curves of maturity. Her face held a serene, almost transcendent beauty—both pure and dangerously seductive simultaneously. She carried only a single sword in her right hand, sheathed in purple leather. Around her neck, a black slave collar gleamed dully in the morning light.

“S-Stop! Who goes there?” the disciple stammered, fumbling for his weapon.

The woman did not slow her pace. She walked through the gate as if it were the most natural thing in the world, her bare breasts swaying gently, her hips rolling with a confidence that came from absolute certainty in her own power. The disciples who gathered to block her path found their eyes darting away in embarrassment, unable to look directly at her exposed form.

She was unashamed. Utterly, completely unashamed.

Since the day she had been collared by the Xuanfa Heavenly Lord, Shen Mengyue had worn no clothes. A slave had no need for them. Her body was her master’s property, to be displayed as proof of her submission. And so she displayed it now, standing before the gathered Tianjian Sect disciples with the same composure she had once shown as the leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect.

“Tell your sect master that the Moon Slave of Xuanfa Heavenly Lord has come to deliver a message,” she said, her voice soft but carrying clearly across the plaza. “Fetch Bai Zhenshuang immediately.”

The disciples exchanged nervous glances. They knew this name. Everyone in the cultivation world knew the names of Xuanfa’s personal slaves—the Heart Slave, the Sparrow Slave, the Moon Slave. Each was a cultivator of terrifying power, each had once been a leader in their own right before being broken and remade under the Heavenly Lord’s discipline.

And this was the Moon Slave Shen Mengyue, former master of the Immortal Cloud Sect, a sword cultivator of unmatched grace.

“I will not repeat myself,” Shen Mengyue said, her tone unchanged. She raised her voice slightly, adding a pulse of spiritual power that carried her words across the entire Tianjian Sect mountain. “Bai Zhenshuang of the Tianjian Sect. The Moon Slave of Xuanfa Heavenly Lord requests your presence. Come out and face your judgment.”

For a long moment, silence reigned. Then, from deep within the sect’s inner halls, a door slid open.

The woman who emerged walked with measured, dignified steps. Bai Zhenshuang was a striking figure—tall and elegant, with features carved from ice and refined by endless years of sword meditation. Her face was cold, perfect, bearing an innate nobility that seemed to distance her from everyone around her. Her black hair fell straight to her waist, pulled back from her face in a simple but severe style. Her body was wrapped in white silk robes embroidered with silver thread, the uniform of a sect master. Her sword, Frostmourne, hung at her hip—a blade of pale blue crystal that seemed to emanate its own winter chill.

Her eyes swept over Shen Mengyue’s naked body with no more reaction than if she had been examining a stone. “The Moon Slave,” she said, her voice as cold as her sword’s name. “To what do I owe this unannounced visit?”

Shen Mengyue met her gaze without flinching. “I come bearing the judgment of Xuanfa Heavenly Lord.”

She drew a scroll from her spatial ring—a sheet of black parchment sealed with a crimson mark that seemed to pulse with living energy. Breaking the seal, she unfurled it and read aloud.

“Bai Zhenshuang, sect master of the Tianjian Sect. You have spoken words of disrespect against the Zehuan Sect, belittling its founder and his methods. For this offense, you are commanded to disrobe completely, kneel at the entrance to the Zehuan Sect’s mountain path, and raise your buttocks to receive punishment. Every day for the span of ten years, you shall receive one hundred strokes of the Heavenly Wooden Board upon your bare buttocks. This is but a light sentence, meant as a reminder of proper respect.”

The disciples of the Tianjian Sect erupted into fury.

“Impossible!”

“This is outrageous!”

“How dare he suggest such a thing to our sect master!”

Weapons were drawn, spiritual energy flared, and the air grew thick with killing intent. Dozens of cultivators surrounded Shen Mengyue, their eyes blazing with hatred.

Shen Mengyue did not move. She simply stood, still naked, still calm, and waited.

Bai Zhenshuang raised a single hand. Instantly, her disciples fell silent.

“You expect me to submit to this humiliation?” Bai Zhenshuang asked, her voice carrying no anger, only cold curiosity. “You come to my sect, unclothed, and demand that I debase myself before your master?”

“I come with my master’s command,” Shen Mengyue replied gently. “And I offer you a choice. Accept this light punishment, or resist, and face what comes after. My master is a man of his word. He promised this would be a small lesson. But if you refuse...”

She let the implication hang in the air.

“I respect only those who earn my respect through strength,” Bai Zhenshuang said. Her hand moved to the hilt of Frostmourne. “If your master wishes to discipline me, let him come himself. Or send someone who can back up his threats with power.”

Shen Mengyue sighed softly. “I had hoped you would see reason.”

She drew her sword.

The blade that emerged from its sheath was a stunning purple, like the last light of sunset captured in steel. Azurelight, her faithful companion, hummed with anticipation in her grip.

The disciples tensed, ready to attack, but Bai Zhenshuang waved them back.

“This is between the Moon Slave and myself,” she said. “If she wishes to force me to submit, she will have to defeat me in combat.”

The plaza cleared. Two women faced each other—one naked but armed with a legendary sword, the other robed in white with a blade of frozen starlight.

They moved at the same instant.

The clash of their swords sent shockwaves across the plaza, cracking the stone beneath their feet. Bai Zhenshuang’s sword style was precise, cold, and relentless—a blizzard of strikes that sought to freeze and shatter. Shen Mengyue’s style was fluid, graceful, and ever-shifting—water adapting to ice, flowing around every attack.

They fought for one hundred exchanges.

Sparks flew. Spiritual energy roiled. The disciples watched in stunned silence as their sect master, the invincible leader of the Tianjian Sect, was slowly, inexorably pushed back.

It was not obvious at first. Bai Zhenshuang’s defense was flawless. But Shen Mengyue’s attacks grew stronger, faster, more unpredictable. She seemed to anticipate every move, to know where Bai Zhenshuang’s sword would be before it arrived.

Finally, a misstep. A fraction of a second where Bai Zhenshuang’s blade was a hair too slow.

Shen Mengyue’s sword swept past her guard, and the flat of Azurelight smacked against Bai Zhenshuang’s wrist. Her grip faltered. Frostmourne clattered to the ground.

The tip of Azurelight came to rest against Bai Zhenshuang’s throat.

Silence.

“Impossible,” Bai Zhenshuang whispered, genuine shock breaking through her cold mask for the first time. “I have never... there is no sword cultivator in the world who can match me.”

“You are wrong,” Shen Mengyue said, her voice still gentle. “There is one who far surpasses you. My master. And because of his discipline, I have surpassed you as well.”

She withdrew her sword and stepped back.

“You do not understand what it means to be trained by Xuanfa Heavenly Lord,” she continued. “Do you know why I am so much stronger now than when I was the master of the Immortal Cloud Sect? Because every single day, for decades, I have been bent over and spanked like a naughty child. Thousands upon thousands of strokes. Each one building my resilience, refining my cultivation, tempering my spirit.”

She raised her hand and produced a sound-transmission talisman, which glowed briefly before crumbling to ash.

“I have informed my master of your resistance,” Shen Mengyue said. “He has responded. Your punishment has been increased. For refusing to submit, you will be taken back to the Zehuan Sect in chains for severe discipline. You may choose now—continue to resist and involve your entire sect, or kneel and accept what is coming.”

The gathered disciples looked to their sect master, their faces a mixture of anger and fear.

Bai Zhenshuang stood still for a long moment. Her eyes closed, then opened.

“I, Bai Zhenshuang, have been defeated in honorable combat,” she said, her voice cold and steady once more. “I recognize the Moon Slave’s superior skill. Therefore, I accept the punishment decreed by Xuanfa Heavenly Lord.”

“Sect Master!” several disciples cried out.

“Silence,” Bai Zhenshuang said, turning to face them. “This is my burden to bear. Do not seek vengeance. Do not interfere. I have made my choice.”

Without another word, she reached up and unfastened the clasp of her white robes. The silk slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Her inner robe followed, then her undergarments, until she stood as naked as the woman before her.

Bai Zhenshuang’s body was exquisite—pale and cold as winter moonlight, with high, firm breasts and a narrow waist that flared into rounded, full hips. Her buttocks were perfectly shaped, round and smooth and heavy, the kind that promised both beauty and strength. Her legs were long and shapely, her skin unblemished save for a single small scar on her left thigh.

She knelt.

The act was graceful, dignified even in submission. She pressed her forehead to the cold stone of the plaza in a full prostration.

“I accept punishment,” she said, her face hidden from view.

Shen Mengyue produced a set of silver chains from her spatial ring—the Immortal Binding Lock, a treasure designed to suppress spiritual energy. She fastened it around Bai Zhenshuang’s neck, the metal cool against the sect master’s skin. A leash dangled from the front ring.

“Rise and crawl,” Shen Mengyue commanded. “We will go to your main hall first. You will be punished there, before your disciples, so that all may witness the consequences of disrespecting the Zehuan Sect.”

Bai Zhenshuang rose to her hands and knees. The disciples watched in horror as their naked sect master began to crawl across the plaza, following the leash held by another naked woman. The sight was so surreal, so utterly degrading, that several of the younger disciples wept openly.

They crawled through the main gates, across the training grounds, past the meditation gardens, and up the hundred stone steps that led to the Grand Assembly Hall. Disciples at every step stopped and stared, their faces pale, their hands trembling on their weapons. But none dared intervene.

At the entrance to the Grand Assembly Hall, Shen Mengyue stopped and turned to face the gathered crowd.

“Let all the Tianjian Sect witness,” she declared, her voice carrying through the entire mountain. “This is Bai Zhenshuang, your sect master. She has been judged by Xuanfa Heavenly Lord of the Zehuan Sect for speaking disrespectfully of his domain. She was given a chance to accept a light punishment, but chose instead to resist, forcing a challenge she could not win. Now she must face the consequences of her arrogance.”

Shen Mengyue led Bai Zhenshuang into the hall and positioned her in the center, where all could see through the open doors.

“Your initial punishment was one hundred strokes of the Heavenly Wooden Board daily for ten years,” Shen Mengyue said, her voice carrying through the silent hall. “For your resistance,

（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 rolling hills of the Hundred Flowers Valley as a figure approached the main gate. The disciples on watch duty blinked, rubbed their eyes, and blinked again. Standing before them was a woman of striking beauty, her body lean and athletic, every muscle defined beneath sun-kissed skin. Her form was completely bare, her breasts firm and proud, her hips narrow but strong. A cascade of fiery red hair fell in a high ponytail down her back, swaying with each confident step. Around her neck, a black leather collar gleamed dully in the morning light, marking her as owned. Her eyes blazed with fierce pride as she strode forward without a trace of shame.

The disciples gasped. Some turned away, faces burning red. Others stared, mouths agape, unable to reconcile the image of utter nakedness with the woman's regal bearing. She walked among them as though she were the one clothed and they the ones exposed. Her nipples, pink and erect from the morning chill, pointed forward without any attempt at concealment. Her sex, clean-shaven and smooth, was displayed openly to the world. The pale skin of her inner thighs and the gentle curve of her buttocks drew every eye, yet her face showed nothing but cool disdain.

"Summon your master," she said, her voice cutting through the stunned silence like a blade. "Tell her that Li Que, once vice-sect leader of the Vermilion Bird Gate, now the sparrow slave beneath the Celestial Punisher's loins, has arrived with a decree."

The disciples scrambled. Some ran. Others stood frozen, unable to process what they were seeing. Before long, a commotion arose from deeper within the valley, and a figure emerged at the head of a procession of elders and disciples.

Hua Qianyu was a vision of gentle beauty. Her face was soft and kind, her features delicate and harmonious. Her eyes, the color of warm amber, held a natural warmth and compassion that had comforted countless wounded cultivators over the centuries. Her hair, a deep shade of verdant green, was loosely pinned at the back of her head, with a few strands framing her face. She wore a flowing robe of pale jade silk, its fabric moving like water as she walked. Her figure was full and maternal, with generous curves at breast and hip, a body built for nurturing. The contrast between her and the naked warrior before her could not have been starker.

"Li Que," Hua Qianyu said, her voice calm but wary. "You come to my valley unannounced and unclothed. What is the meaning of this?"

Li Que's lips curled into a cold smile. "I come bearing the words of my master, the Celestial Punisher Xuanfa. Hear his decree."

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her voice had shifted, taking on a deeper, more resonant quality as she recited the command.

"Hua Qianyu of the Hundred Flowers Valley. Your disciples have encroached upon the medicinal gardens of the Punishing Phoenix Gate, claiming territory and plundering resources that are rightfully ours. For this transgression, every disciple who set foot upon those grounds is to strip naked, crawl to the entrance of the Punishing Phoenix Gate, present their buttocks, and receive one hundred strokes of the Heavenly Dao Board each day for ten years. This is a minor punishment, meant to teach humility. As for you, Hua Qianyu, who failed to govern your disciples, you shall share their fate."

Hua Qianyu's face went pale. Her hands trembled at her sides. "You cannot be serious. A hundred strokes daily? For ten years? Naked and exposed before your entire sect?"

"I am completely serious," Li Que replied. "Disperse your disciples at once. Have the offending ones present themselves for punishment. You will accompany them."

"Impossible," Hua Qianyu said, her voice hardening. "I will not allow my disciples to be humiliated in such a manner. Whatever trespass occurred, I will pay restitution. Gold. Spirit stones. Rare herbs. Name your price."

"The price has already been named," Li Que said. "Compliance."

"Then I refuse."

Li Que's eyes gleamed. "I was hoping you would say that."

She raised her hand, and flames erupted around her body, wreathing her in a corona of crimson fire. The heat was intense, causing the disciples to step back, shielding their faces. Hua Qianyu's robes billowed in the sudden updraft.

"So be it," Hua Qianyu said, summoning a staff of polished white wood inlaid with jade. "If you insist on violence, I will not stand idly by."

Li Que attacked first. A wave of fire surged forward, transforming into a phoenix of pure flame. Hua Qianyu raised her staff and a barrier of green energy interwoven with flowering vines rose to meet it. The two forces collided with an explosion that shook the ground, sending dust and debris spiraling into the air.

Hua Qianyu was no novice. She had spent centuries mastering the healing arts and the gentle cultivation of life energy, but she had also learned to defend herself. Her staff moved in elegant arcs, generating shields and counterattacks that matched Li Que's flames blow for blow. Yet Li Que had been tempered in a harsher forge. She had faced the endless humiliation of being broken by Xuanfa, forced to crawl and beg and weep. She had emerged from that crucible with a will of iron and a power honed to a razor's edge.

Li Que pressed her advantage, her flames growing hotter and more concentrated. She condensed the fire into lances of brilliant white, hurling them at Hua Qianyu with lethal precision. The valley master deflected them, but each deflection cost her more energy. Her barrier flickered. Her movements slowed.

Li Que vanished and reappeared directly behind Hua Qianyu. A single finger pressed against the back of her neck. "Yield."

Hua Qianyu froze. The finger held the power of condensed flame, enough to pierce her skull in an instant. She lowered her staff.

"I yield."

Li Que withdrew her hand. "Good. You chose wisely." She produced a talisman from somewhere on her person, pressing it between her fingers. A pulse of spiritual energy activated the communication array embedded within.

A moment later, a deep, cold voice emerged from the talisman. It carried no warmth, no emotion, only the absolute authority of a being who had never known defeat.

"Speak."

"Master," Li Que said, her voice shifting immediately to one of submission. "The Hundred Flowers Valley has resisted the decree. Hua Qianyu fought against me. Her disciples remain defiant."

A long pause. Then, the voice again, colder still.

"Hua Qianyu. Your disciples resisted. You yourself raised a hand against my command. The punishment is increased. You will be brought to the Punishing Phoenix Gate for severe discipline. Your disciples will receive double the strokes on their first day. A hundred each."

Hua Qianyu's face drained of all color. Tears welled in her eyes. She fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the ground.

"Great Celestial Punisher, I beg you. The disciples are young. They followed my orders. They did not know the gardens were claimed. Please, I accept full responsibility. Punish me alone. Spare them."

"Only you?"

"Yes. Only me. I will bear whatever punishment you deem fit. Increase my sentence. Triple it. Quadruple it. Do as you will, but let the disciples go free."

Silence stretched across the connection. The disciples watched in horror as their master groveled, her voice breaking as she pleaded for their sakes.

"Very well," the voice said at last. "If you alone are to bear the punishment, the sentence must be severe. You will receive four hundred strokes of the Heavenly Dao Board, publicly administered at your own valley's main hall. Then you will be brought to the Punishing Phoenix Gate for further discipline. The disciples will watch. They will learn what happens when their master fails to guide them."

Hua Qianyu shuddered but did not protest. Tears streamed down her face, splashing onto the ground. "Thank you, great Celestial Punisher. Thank you for your mercy."

"Report to me when the punishment is complete," the voice said, and the talisman went silent.

Li Que produced a length of shimmering golden chain, the Immortal Binding Lock. She fastened one end around Hua Qianyu's neck, the cold metal settling against her skin. The other end she held in her hand.

"Undress," Li Que commanded.

Hua Qianyu's hands moved to her robes. They trembled as she undid the sash, letting the jade silk fall from her shoulders. The robe pooled at her feet. She straightened, standing naked before her assembled disciples. Her body was full and beautiful, her skin pale and flawless, her breasts heavy with soft weight, her hips broad, her buttocks round and prominent. The contrast between her dignified bearing and her utter exposure was almost too much to bear.

"On your hands and knees," Li Que ordered.

Hua Qianyu lowered herself to the ground, her palms pressing into the dirt, her knees scraping against the stones. She began to crawl, the chain clinking with each movement. Li Que walked ahead, holding the chain like a leash, leading the naked valley master through the gate and toward the main hall.

The disciples followed in stunned silence. Some wept. Others covered their mouths, stifling sobs. Their revered master, the kind and gentle Hua Qianyu, crawled on all fours, her bare buttocks swaying with each step, her breasts swinging beneath her, her face a mask of shame and resignation.

They reached the main hall, a grand structure built of white stone and adorned with carvings of flowers and vines. A crowd had gathered, elders and disciples and servants, all watching in shock as their leader was led up the steps like an animal.

Li Que stopped at the top of the stairs. She turned to face the crowd.

"Hua Qianyu, master of the Hundred Flowers Valley, has been found guilty of failing to govern her disciples. They encroached upon the sacred grounds of the Punishing Phoenix Gate. Further, she resisted lawful punishment by force of arms. For these crimes, she will now receive four hundred strokes of the Heavenly Dao Board."

Hua Qianyu crawled to the center of the platform. She lowered her chest to the ground, raising her buttocks high into the air, presenting them to the assembled crowd. Her face pressed against the cold stone. Her hands gripped the edges of the platform.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Let the punishment commence."

Instead of summoning the wooden boards immediately, Li Que turned toward the surrounding gardens. She extended her spiritual sense, searching among the herbs and plants. A moment later, her hand shot out, and a cluster of plants flew from the earth, carried by her spiritual energy.

Hua Qianyu raised her head, watching as the plants approached. Her eyes widened as she recognized them. Deep green stalks covered in fine, barbed hairs. Scorpion grass.

"What are you doing?" Hua Qianyu asked, a note of fear creeping into her voice.

Li Que did not answer. She used her spiritual power to crush the plants, grinding them into a thick, viscous juice. The liquid glistened with a faint greenish sheen. With precise control, she spread the juice across Hua Qianyu's upturned buttocks, coating every inch of her pale skin.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the itching began.

It started as a faint tingle, barely noticeable. Then it grew, spreading outward from the point of contact, sinking into the pores, burrowing beneath the skin. Hua Qianyu gasped. The itch was maddening, a crawling sensation that made her want to tear her own flesh from her bones. She squirmed, her fingers digging into the stone, her back arching.

"Please," she gasped. "I can't... I need..."

The itch intensified. It was as though a thousand tiny insects were burrowing through her skin, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Hua Qianyu cried out, her composure shattering. She reached back, her fingers clawing at her own buttocks, scratching and scraping in a desperate attempt to find

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

Deep within the ancient secret realm, where twisted spirit trees glowed with ethereal light and floating islands drifted through a sky of perpetual twilight, Su Qianyao stood atop a crumbling stone platform. Her silver hair cascaded down her back like molten moonlight, catching the ambient glow and shimmering with an otherworldly radiance. Her form was a masterpiece of temptation—full breasts barely contained within blood-red robes that seemed designed to tantalize, a waist so slender it appeared almost impossibly curved against the generous swell of her hips. Her face was a symphony of seduction: delicate brows arched with perpetual amusement, crimson eyes that sparkled with hidden mischief, and lips curved in a smile that had driven countless cultivators to ruin. She was the enchantment that made men forget their oaths, their honor, their very souls—the Demon Saintess who had brought low more masters than any blade or spell.

But now, her crimson eyes widened with genuine surprise. Her smile deepened, rich with amusement.

"Well, well," she purred, her voice like honey laced with poison. "Now this is truly a rare sight. A bare-bottomed little sister in this desolate place."

Before her stood a figure that defied every expectation of the cultivation world. Lin Qiaoxin—known to those who served beneath her master as Xinnu—was completely naked, her body on full display without a hint of shame. Twin black ponytails framed a face that radiated youthful mischief, her skin smooth and fair, untouched by the calluses of battle or age. Her form was girlishly slim, breasts pert and small, waist narrow, legs long and graceful. Her bare feet rested lightly on the moss-covered stone, and between her legs, the neatly trimmed patch of dark hair was a stark contrast to her otherwise innocent appearance. The black slave collar around her neck, stark and unyielding, marked her as property—a brand of absolute ownership.

Around her, the realm pulsed with chaotic spiritual energy, beasts howled in the distance, ancient formations pulsed with deadly intent.

And Lin Qiaoxin stood there, completely naked, grinning like a mischievous child who had just discovered a new game.

"Elder Sister Su, you flatter me," Lin Qiaoxin chirped, her voice bright and playful. She turned, bending over with an exaggerated wiggle of her hips, causing her round, flawless buttocks to sway enticingly. "But tell me, does Xinnu's bottom please your eyes? I think Master keeps it well shaped with his daily discipline."

She straightened and spun, still grinning as she made no move to cover herself.

"You see, when Master took me as his slave, I was barely twenty years old. Young, innocent, thinking clothes were some sort of requirement for civilized life." She laughed, the sound like wind chimes. "Now I'm over four hundred years old, and I've spent more of my life naked than dressed. Honestly, Elder Sister, after Master's first hundred years of training, wearing fabric against my punished skin feels strange. I prefer the air—and Master's preference."

Su Qianyao's eyes traced over the younger woman's body with appreciation that held no malice. The confidence, the complete lack of shame—it spoke of a spirit utterly broken and rebuilt into something entirely devoted. Such transformations fascinated her.

"But Sister," Lin Qiaoxin's voice shifted, taking on a hint of playful reproach, "using your charm techniques on our Zefeng Sect's disciples isn't proper behavior. Master detected it from miles away. He sent me to bring you back for a bottom-spanking session." She paused, counting on her fingers. "Only ten years, he said. Just a decade of discipline."

She raised a hand before Su Qianyao could speak.

"Now, I know you're thinking, 'This little girl is insane, how can she think I'd follow her like a tamed pet?'" Lin Qiaoxin winked. "But Elder Sister, I have to warn you—Master's orders are absolute. You can come willingly, walk nicely with me, and save us both the trouble of a fight. Or..." She let the word hang, her grin turning sharp. "You can resist. And I'll have to take you by force. But Master's punishments for those who resist are... severe. He might just spank your bottom until it's black and blue."

She patted her own bare buttocks, a dreamy sigh escaping her.

"And honestly? That doesn't sound so bad either. I sometimes wish Master would punish me twice as hard." She pursed her lips. "I miss the feeling of his celestial board against my skin. It's been three hours since my last punishment. I'm almost in withdrawal."

Su Qianyao's crimson eyes flickered with interest. She tilted her head, a predatory smile gracing her full lips.

"You speak of punishment as if it's a reward, little sister. That is... intriguing." Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips in a gesture that was half-seduction, half-anticipation. "You say he will spank me? Beat my bottom until it's ruined?"

Her hand drifted behind her, palm pressing against her own generous derriere. The thought sent a shiver of forbidden pleasure through her.

"In the Demon Realm, I am unmatched," she murmured, more to herself than to Lin Qiaoxin. "The strongest of my kind. Emperors bow to my beauty, and my power makes the bravest warriors tremble. None would dare raise a hand against me, let alone..." She squeezed her own flesh, biting her lower lip. "Let alone discipline me."

She met Lin Qiaoxin's eyes, her smile sharpening.

"But you claim to come from a master who does not fear me? Who would beat me like a naughty child?" Her laugh was throaty, delighted. "Then come, little heart-slave. Show me what power backs those bold words. If you can defeat me, I will gladly go with you and experience this legendary discipline."

A challenge.

Lin Qiaoxin sighed dramatically, shaking her head.

"Elder Sister, Elder Sister. You're committing an offense. Master hates it when his orders are resisted. He'll have to spank you twice as hard." She shrugged, still cheerful. "But I suppose that's your choice. Fine. Let's dance."

Su Qianyao moved first. Her form dissolved into a swirl of crimson energy, reforming inches from Lin Qiaoxin with her hand extended, fingers glowing with entrancing darkness. Charm techniques—not physical attacks but spiritual seductions designed to cloud minds and bend wills.

But Lin Qiaoxin was already gone, her body replaced by shimmering formation lines that erupted from the ground. The entire platform lit up as arrays she had prepared in the moments before the fight ignited into blinding light.

"I've been setting formations since before you noticed me, Sister," Lin Qiaoxin's voice came from everywhere and nowhere. "I'm a formation master. A battlefield is just a canvas I haven't painted yet."

Su Qianyao snarled, abandoning charm for raw power. Black flames erupted around her, demonic qi twisting into serpentine forms that lashed out at the glowing arrays. She was fast, powerful, experienced—a true master who had slaughtered countless challengers.

But Lin Qiaoxin had been trained by Xuan Fa himself. Fifty years of daily punishment had refined not just her submission but her combat instincts. She moved through her formations like a dancer, weaving defensive arrays and offensive traps with speed that bordered on prescience. Every step she took aligned with her designs; every gesture triggered new layers of complexity.

The battle raged across the secret realm. Floating islands shattered under Su Qianyao's attacks. Ancient trees were vaporized by her demonic flames. But Lin Qiaoxin's formations were relentless—chains of light, binding circles, suppression seals that drained Su Qianyao's strength with every passing moment.

Finally, with a flash of golden light that echoed across the realm, Lin Qiaoxin completed her masterpiece.

"Celestial Binding Array: Final Lock!"

Formation lines erupted from beneath Su Qianyao's feet, wrapping around her arms and legs, dragging them outward until she hung suspended in a perfect spread-eagle. The crimson energy around her sputtered and died as the formation sealed her spiritual power.

Su Qianyao struggled, her silver hair whipping around her face, but the array held firm. She hung in the air, limbs stretched wide, still wearing her blood-red robes.

Lin Qiaoxin appeared before her, hands on her hips, grinning like a cat that had caught a particularly plump bird.

"See? That didn't have to happen. But since you resisted, I'm authorized to give you a preview of what's coming." She twirled her finger, and formation energy manifested as razor-sharp blades that circled Su Qianyao's body. "First, let's get you more comfortable."

With a gesture, the blades sliced through Su Qianyao's robes, shredding the fabric into ribbons that fluttered away on the wind.

Su Qianyao gasped, her body fully exposed for the first time in centuries. Her skin was flawless, smooth as polished marble, with a faint luminescence that spoke of her demonic heritage. Her breasts were full and heavy, tipped with dark nipples that hardened in the cool air. Her waist curved inward dramatically before flaring into hips that were wide and inviting, and below that—a thick, plush triangle of silver hair that covered her mound. But it was her buttocks that were truly remarkable: large, round, perfectly shaped, two generous globes of flesh that looked like they had been sculpted specifically for punishment.

Lin Qiaoxin wolf-whistled, genuinely impressed.

"Master is going to love that canvas. He says a good spanking requires a good target, and you have an excellent one."

Su Qianyao's crimson eyes burned with defiance, but there was something else there too—a glimmer of anticipation.

"You defeated me," she said, her voice husky. "Fairly. I admit defeat. Now... show me what your master's disciple can do."

Lin Qiaoxin's grin widened.

"Gladly."

She raised her hand, and the formation lines around Su Qianyao's suspended body shifted, solidifying into dozens of thin, flexible steel rods—whips and paddles formed from pure formation energy. Each one hummed with power.

"First punishment: four hundred strokes, distributed however I see fit. For resisting Master's summons."

The first blow landed across Su Qianyao's right buttock.

The sound echoed through the secret realm—a sharp crack that resonated with spiritual force. Su Qianyao's body jolted, and a low moan escaped her lips. Not a cry of pain, but of pleasure.

"Nnnh... yes..."

Lin Qiaoxin paused, her eyebrow rising.

Blow two, then three, then four—each landing with precision across the generous curve of Su Qianyao's bottom. Pink stripes appeared on the pale skin, bright and angry. But Su Qianyao's response was not what Lin Qiaoxin expected.

"More... harder... please, more..."

The Demon Saintess's body writhed against her bonds, but not in escape. She was pressing her buttocks backward, as if trying to meet the next blow, as if hungry for it. Her breath came in ragged gasps that were interspersed with moans of ecstasy.

Lin Qiaoxin's blows continued, building intensity. Ten strokes. Twenty. Fifty. The pale skin turned pink, then red, then deepened toward purple. Su Qianyao's cries shifted from moans to shameless wails of delight.

"AHHHH! Yes, yes, YES! More! Give me more!"

Her hips bucked, and between her legs, Lin Qiaoxin could see a trickle of clear fluid running down her inner thigh. Her cunt was dripping, her arousal undeniable and shameless.

"I've been waiting so long for this," Su Qianyao gasped, her voice cracking with pleasure. "So long. Do you know what it's like? To be the strongest? To have everyone fear you? To never be disciplined, never be punished, never feel a hand of authority against your flesh?"

Lin Qiaoxin struck again, harder, the steel rod leaving a distinct welt across the crest of Su Qianyao's left cheek.

"I have a greedy bottom," Su Qianyao moaned. "A hungry, greedy bottom that has been neglected for centuries. I have dreamed of this—of being conquered, of being di

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

# Chapter 5

The morning sun cast long shadows across the marble expanse of the Zema Gate square. Three thick stone pillars stood in the center, their surfaces carved with intricate符文 that pulsed with a dull, amber light—restraining arrays designed to suppress even the mightiest cultivation. Before these pillars knelt three naked figures, their hands bound behind their backs with golden Immortal Binding Chains that wound around the pillars, anchoring them in place.

The first was Bai Zhenshuang, Sword Sovereign of the Heavenly Sword Sect. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, partially obscuring the proud lines of her shoulders. Even in this humiliating position, her face remained cold and composed, though a faint flush colored her cheeks. Her sword, Frostfell, floated before her, its blade gleaming with an icy light.

Beside her knelt Hua Qianyu, Valley Lord of the Hundred Flowers Valley. Her cyan hair fell loosely around her face, strands sticking to her tear-streaked cheeks. Her full figure trembled slightly as she awaited her punishment, her lips moving in silent prayer that her sect would be spared.

On the other side knelt Su Qianyao, the Demon Saintess. Her silver hair shimmered in the morning light, and her red eyes sparkled with an emotion that looked almost like anticipation. Unlike the others, a small smile played at the corners of her lips.

A short distance away, three figures stood watching—Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue. All three were naked like the prisoners, their bodies marked with the faint red lines of recent punishments. They had come to witness the justice of their master.

"Begin," came the voice of Xuanfa, though he was nowhere to be seen. His words echoed across the square, carried by divine power.

Bai Zhenshuang's sword, Frostfell, trembled in the air. The blade rotated slowly until its flat side faced her exposed buttocks. Without warning, it swung down.

*CRACK!*

The sound echoed across the square as the flat of the blade connected with Bai Zhenshuang's pale skin. Her body jerked forward, a sharp intake of breath escaping through clenched teeth. A red mark appeared on her left buttock.

"One," counted a disembodied voice, likely from one of the watching slaves.

The sword rose again, then fell.

*CRACK!*

A matching mark appeared on her right buttock. Bai Zhenshuang's fingers curled into fists behind her back, but she made no sound. Her face remained impassive, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

The sword continued its work, methodical and precise. Each blow landed with perfect accuracy, spreading the punishment evenly across both cheeks. By the fiftieth stroke, Bai Zhenshuang's buttocks were a deep, uniform red. By the hundredth, small welts had begun to form. Her composure cracked slightly, tears streaming freely down her cheeks, though she still refused to cry out.

*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*

The strokes continued, relentless. Bai Zhenshuang's body swayed with each impact, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The shame of being struck by her own sword, the weapon that had served her faithfully for centuries, cut deeper than the physical pain.

Two hundred. Three hundred. Three hundred fifty.

By the four hundredth stroke, her buttocks were a mass of red and purple, covered in raised welts and small cuts where the skin had split. She sobbed openly now, her body trembling with each breath.

"Spread your legs," commanded the voice.

Bai Zhenshuang hesitated, then slowly moved her knees apart, exposing the most private part of her body. A whip materialized from thin air, its tip glowing with heat.

*WHIP!*

The first stroke caught her directly in the crack between her buttocks. Bai Zhenshuang screamed, her body arching forward. The whip was thin and sharp, designed to inflict maximum pain on the most sensitive flesh.

*WHIP!*

Again and again, the whip struck that forbidden place. Bai Zhenshuang's cries echoed across the square, mingled with her sobs. By the hundredth stroke, her entire backside was a ruined mess, blood trickling down her thighs.

When it was finally over, she collapsed forward, barely held up by the chains.

Hua Qianyu watched her fellow prisoner's punishment with wide, terrified eyes. She knew what was coming next for her.

A small plant materialized before her, its leaves covered in fine hairs that glistened with a toxic sap. The Scourge Grass—known throughout the cultivation world for its ability to cause an unbearable, maddening itch.

"Please," Hua Qianyu whispered. "Please, Master, do not let this affect my sect. I alone am responsible for my transgression."

The plant moved of its own accord, pressing against her bare buttocks. Hua Qianyu gasped as the sap made contact with her skin. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the itching began.

It started as a mild tingle, then grew into a burning, crawling sensation that seemed to come from deep within her flesh. Hua Qianyu squirmed, trying to rub her legs together for relief, but her bound position made it impossible.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please, my master, I cannot bear it."

The itching intensified, spreading from her buttocks down her thighs and up her lower back. She could feel the sap seeping into her pores, driving her mad with its relentless torment. Tears streamed down her face as she writhed helplessly.

Then, two planks of Heavenly Dao wood appeared, one on each side of her hips. They began to move, slapping against her itching buttocks in a steady rhythm.

*SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!*

Each blow sent waves of pain through her already tormented flesh, but the pain was almost a relief compared to the itching. Hua Qianyu found herself pushing back against the planks, desperate for the sharp sting that temporarily overwhelmed the maddening crawl.

"Harder," she cried. "Please, harder!"

The planks obliged, striking with increasing force. Hua Qianyu's cries turned into sobs of relief and agony mixed together. Her buttocks, already inflamed from the sap, turned a deep angry red under the constant beating.

Four hundred strokes. By the end, she was barely conscious, her body heaving with spent sobs.

Su Qianyao watched with undisguised excitement. Her silver hair was slightly disheveled, and a flush covered her entire body. Between her legs, a clear liquid glistened.

The Heavenly Dao planks appeared beside her as well.

"At last," she breathed, positioning herself with perfect form.

*SMACK!*

The first blow landed with satisfying force. Su Qianyao let out a moan that was decidedly not one of pain.

"Yes," she purred. "More, please. Harder."

*SMACK! *SMACK!* *SMACK!*

The planks struck in rapid succession, each blow harder than the last. Su Qianyao's body rocked with each impact, but instead of flinching, she pushed back against them.

"Harder," she demanded, her voice breathless. "Please, my master, can you not strike harder? My worthless buttocks deserve worse punishment."

Her silver hair flew around her face as she threw her head back, moaning openly with each stroke. The planks left deep red marks on her pale skin, and she seemed to relish every one.

"Harder!" she cried. "Break my useless backside! Punish this slut thoroughly!"

By the three hundredth stroke, her hips were moving in rhythm with the blows, grinding against the air as waves of pleasure washed over her. By the four hundredth, she was gasping, barely able to speak.

Then a thick ginger root materialized beside her. Su Qianyao's red eyes lit up.

"Yes," she whispered. "Please, master, fill this worthless hole."

The ginger root moved between her legs, pressing against her entrance. Su Qianyao moaned as it pushed inside her, the spicy sensation mixing with the lingering pain from her punishment. She squirmed, adjusting to the intrusion, then settled with a satisfied sigh.

For the next hour, she sat motionless, the ginger root deep inside her, while the other two women wept softly beside her.

---

When the punishments were complete, a healing array activated beneath the three women, its soft green light washing over their battered bodies. Wounds closed, welts faded, and color returned to their skin. In moments, they were whole again—though the memory of their punishment would remain.

In the Xuantian Realm, Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue knelt before Xuanfa, reporting the morning's events.

"The Sword Sovereign endured well," Shen Mengyue said, her voice soft and respectful. "She wept but did not beg for mercy."

"Old Hua cried and pleaded, but only for her sect," Lin Qiaoxin added, a hint of sympathy in her voice.

"And the Saintess," Li Que said with a contemptuous snort, "she enjoyed it far too much."

Xuanfa nodded, his face expressionless. "They will learn their place in time. You three have completed your tasks well."

The three women exchanged glances, then Lin Qiaoxin spoke. "Master, we have a request."

"Speak."

"We wish to increase our daily punishment," Shen Mengyue said, her cheeks flushing. "From four hundred to... perhaps five hundred?"

Xuanfa raised an eyebrow. "Five hundred strokes? Every day?"

"Yes, Master," Li Que said, her red hair swaying. "We have fulfilled the tasks you set for us. We... we have grown to appreciate the discipline."

A ghost of a smile crossed Xuanfa's lips. "So you've grown addicted to the paddle, have you?"

The three women blushed deeper but nodded.

"Yes, Master," Lin Qiaoxin admitted. "We crave your correction. The pain reminds us of our place."

"Very well," Xuanfa said. He clapped his hands. "Lin Qiaoxin, Lin Yuxin. Li Que, Li Yunling. Shen Mengyue, Shen Xingmian. Attend me."

Moments later, three young women entered the room, their bodies naked like their mothers, black slave collars around their necks. Lin Yuxin had Lin Qiaoxin's bright eyes and flaxen hair, Li Yunling had Li Que's athletic build and red tresses, and Shen Xingmian bore Shen Mengyue's delicate features and dark hair.

They knelt before Xuanfa, heads bowed. "Greetings, Master."

Xuanfa gestured to the kneeling mothers. "Your mothers' buttocks are itching for correction. Take the Heavenly Dao planks and administer four hundred strokes each. Show them no mercy."

"Yes, Master."

Lin Yuxin took the plank with steady hands. Her mother, Lin Qiaoxin, knelt and positioned herself, raising her hips to present her buttocks.

"Remember, Yuxin," Lin Qiaoxin said, glancing over her shoulder. "You must aim for the same spot consistently. The most pain comes from concentrated strikes on the same area."

"Yes, Mother."

*CRACK!*

The first blow landed, leaving a red mark on Lin Qiaoxin's left cheek. She gasped but remained still.

"Again," she instructed. "Right there. Harder."

*CRACK! *CRACK!* *CRACK!*

Lin Yuxin obeyed, her strokes precise and powerful. Lin Qiaoxin groaned with each impact, but her voice was calm, instructional.

"Good," she said through gritted teeth. "Now the right side. Three strikes in the same place."

*CRACK! *CRACK!* *CRACK!*

Nearby, Li Yunling was delivering similar punishment to Li Que. The older woman's red hair swung with each impact as she maintained her position.

"Harder, Yunling," Li Que commanded. "Do you think your mother is a weakling? Break my skin if you must."

"Yes, Mother."

*CRACK! *CRACK!* *CRACK!*

Li Yunling struck with increasing force, her young arms strong from years of cultivation training. Li Que grunted with each blow, but her face showed fierce pride.

"Good," she said. "Now the sensitive spot where my thighs meet. Aim there."

*CRACK!*

Li Que let out a sharp cry as the paddle caught her in exactly that spot. "Yes! Again!"

Shen Xingmian was the most hesitant of the three daughters, her strokes lighter than her companions'. Shen Mengyue turned her head, meeting her daughter's eyes.

"Do not be gentle with me, Xingmian," she said softly. "I need this correction. Your master commands it."

"But Mother—"

"Obey your master," Shen Mengyue said firmly. "And honor me by striking with all your strength."

Shen Xingmian's e

（本章内容较长，当前页面已截取部分内容）

The air in the vast hall of the Zefeng Sect was thick with the scent of spiritual herbs and the faint, metallic tang of discipline. Rows upon rows of women knelt, their upper bodies pressed flat against the cool stone floor, their bare buttocks raised high and proud in the air. Eighty of them, a collection of former sect leaders, noble daughters, and renowned prodigies, all now reduced to this single, humbling position.

Behind each woman, two planks of celestial wood floated silently, imbued with the will of the heavens. With a mechanical rhythm, they swung forward, slapping into the tender flesh with a sound like thunder. *Whack! Whack!* The blows were not random; each was a precise instrument of punishment, calibrated to deliver the maximum sting without causing lasting harm.

The newer slaves, those who had not yet learned the depth of their submission, whimpered and squirmed. Their bodies bucked against the relentless assault, tears streaming down their faces as they futilely tried to escape the wooden justice. But for the majority, the veterans of this daily ritual, there was only stillness. Their bodies accepted the blows, their minds blank, their souls surrendered. Every red handprint and welt on their cheeks was a lesson, a testament to the discipline that had been beaten into them over years.

At the very front of the assembly, three figures knelt in perfect alignment: Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue. These three, the most powerful and most devoted of Xuan Fa’s slaves, received the heaviest sentence. Four hundred strokes each, delivered by the same celestial wood planks, but with a force that made the air crackle.

*WHACK! WHACK!*

The sound was different here, deeper, more punishing. The two planks flanking each woman did not simply strike; they carved their purpose into the flesh. Lin Qiaoxin’s pert buttocks, usually so lively and bouncy, were now a deep, angry red, quivering with every impact. She let out a sharp gasp, then a low, throaty laugh. “Ah! Master’s celestial planks are the only ones that can truly satisfy! Haa… feel like my poor heart’s ass is going to be ground into dust!”

Beside her, Li Que’s athletic form remained rigid. Her high, toned buttocks clenched against the first blow, then relaxed to receive the second. Sweat beaded on her fire-red hair, and her eyes were squeezed shut, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. But her voice, when it came, was steady, filled with a fierce pride. “Master’s punishment is a slave’s glory. Please, Master, strike Que’s ass harder. Let it remember your power.”

Shen Mengyue was a picture of serene agony. Her elegant, mature form was bent with a grace that belied the violence being inflicted upon her. The planks landed on her plush, full buttocks, sending ripples of flesh that were both painful and mesmerizing. Her voice was a soft whisper, yet it carried across the hall. “Yue’s ass is naughty. It yearns for Master’s discipline. Please, Master, do not hold back. Let it learn its lesson fully.”

The blows continued, a steady, brutal rhythm. The three women did not scream. They panted, they gasped, their bodies shook with the force of the impacts, but they did not break. With each stroke, their submission deepened. The pain was a crucible, and from it emerged their purest selves: devoted slaves.

*WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!*

The count reached three hundred and ninety. Lin Qiaoxin’s legs trembled, threatening to give out. Li Que’s knuckles were white where she gripped her own thighs. Shen Mengyue’s face was a mask of controlled suffering. The final ten strokes were the hardest, the planks seeming to find new, more tender spots on their already abused flesh.

*WHACK! ... WHACK! ... WHACK! ...*

Four hundred. The planks halted, hovering silently. For a long moment, the three women remained in their position, frozen. Then, as if a string had been cut, they collapsed. They lay flat on the floor, their chests heaving, their backs jerking with each ragged breath. Tears pooled in their eyes and dripped onto the stone, but their lips were curved into the same gentle, fulfilling smile.

The formation array hidden in the hall began to glow, a soft, warm green light that seeped into their battered flesh. The swelling began to recede, the deep red fading to a healthy pink. Healing energy, but administered only after the lesson was complete.

Footsteps, measured and deliberate, echoed through the now silent hall. Xuan Fa approached, his black training robes making him a shadow in the dim light. His face was a perfect mask of cold authority.

The three women stirred. With visible effort, they pushed themselves up from the floor, their abused muscles screaming in protest. They knelt, their posture perfect despite the pain.

“Thank you, Master, for punishing our asses,” they intoned in unison, their voices sincere. Lin Qiaoxin added a cheeky, breathless addition, “Only Master’s celestial planks really know how to make it hurt so good!”

Xuan Fa’s gaze swept over them, a flicker of approval in his cold eyes. He saw not rebellion, but perfect devotion. The pain had served its purpose.

Before he could speak, three more figures glided forward. Lin Yuxin, Li Yunling, and Shen Xingmian, their daughters, knelt beside their mothers. They were the mirror images of the elder women, their youthful bodies bearing the same mark of slavery: the black collar around their necks. They pressed their foreheads to the ground.

“Master,” Lin Yuxin said, her voice bright and eager. “Please, allow our mothers to be the ones to punish us today. We want to feel their strength.”

“Please, Mother,” Shen Xingmian added, her eyes meeting Shen Mengyue’s, a silent conversation passing between them. “Do not show mercy. Your daughter’s ass is strong now. It can take your discipline.”

Xuan Fa gave a single, curt nod.

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue rose, their healing making the movement easier. They took the wooden planks from the air, holding them firmly. Their children turned, presenting their bare, young buttocks.

*SLAP!* Lin Qiaoxin’s first strike was strong and true. “Remember, Yuxin,” she said, her playful tone gone, replaced by a mother’s stern instruction. “As a slave, you must accept all of Master’s punishment. Every blow is a gift. Every humiliation is an honor.”

*WHACK!* Li Que’s blow rang out. “A slave does not resist,” she hissed, her voice low and intense. “You are a vessel for Master’s will. Your pain is your purpose.”

*CRACK!* Shen Mengyue’s strike was precise, a master’s touch. “Submission is not weakness,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “It is the highest form of strength. To give yourself completely, to surrender your pride and your will, that is the path of the perfect slave.”

On and on it went, the sound of wood on flesh a steady drumbeat. The daughters did not cry out. They accepted the blows, their bodies jerking, but their minds focused on their mothers’ words. Two hundred strokes for each, delivered with love and discipline. When it was done, the three young women collapsed, their buttocks a glowing, painful red. They smiled up at their mothers, their eyes full of gratitude and devotion.

Xuan Fa watched the entire display, his expression never changing. As the scene settled, he turned his attention to other matters. “The other three. Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, Su Qianyao. Their punishment. Report.”

Shen Mengyue composed herself, her breathing even. “Bai Zhenshuang remains stubborn, Master. She cries and screams, but she does not beg. She will break, but not yet.”

Li Que scoffed. “Hua Qianyu? She has been begging for the scorpion-grass extract to be applied to her ass again. Every time it burns, she cries for the plank. I believe she is close to accepting her place. The torment of the poison is breaking her will faster than any plank ever could.”

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, a mischievous glint in her eye despite her recent punishment. “And Su Qianyao? Oh, Master, she is a wonderful, wonderful degenerate. A bigger pervert than even this heart. The plank, the ginger punishment… she enjoys it all like a fine meal. It does not break her, it feeds her.”

But her tone grew slightly more serious. “I have heard a whisper, Master. The Saintess’s personal guard from the demon realm. They have heard of their Saintess’s fate. I believe they plan to come and take her back.”

Xuan Fa’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of cold amusement passing through them. “Is that so?”

He looked at the hall, at the eighty kneeling women, at his three most devoted slaves, at their daughters. He saw his collection, his garden of discipline.

“In a few days,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous calm, “I will go and personally shatter the pride of Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu. Their dignity will be ground into dust here, on this floor. As for the rescue party…”

A cruel smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Anyone who dares to defy my will must have their ass well and truly opened.”

Lin Qiaoxin giggled again, the sound like silver bells. “Oh my, the sisters of the Saintess’s guard are going to have such sore, red bottoms!”

Li Que merely sneered. “I was once like Bai Zhenshuang. Stubborn. Proud. But when Master used the ginger and the anal hook on me, when he defeated me with his own hands, I knelt. I accepted. She will too.”

Shen Mengyue spoke last, her voice calm and reflective. “I endured much as well, Master. Being hung from the hook, the ginger enemas… I cried. I yielded. And now I have found my true peace. They will find theirs as well.”

Xuan Fa looked at his three most perfect creations, the embodiment of his will. They had been broken, rebuilt, and now they thrived in their submission. Soon, he would add three more to the ranks of the truly devoted. And as for the demon guards…

His fingers twitched, the power inherent in his being humming with anticipation. Some lessons were best taught with one’s own hands.