The Punishment of the Celestial Sovereign Xuanfa: Part 2

The morning sun cast long shadows across the grounds of the Zefeng Sect as Xuanfa emerged from his cultivation chambers, three leather leashes gripped in his right hand. Behind him, crawling on hands and knees, came Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue, their naked bodies glistening with the dew of early practice, black slave collars tight around their throats.

The sect disciples who had gathered for morning exercises immediately dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the ground. None dared look up as the three former legends of the cultivation world crawled past on all fours, their movements fluid and graceful, tails held high like obedient female dogs presenting themselves to their master.

"Head down, Xin Slave," Xuanfa said without turning, giving a gentle tug on one of the leashes.

Lin Qiaoxin immediately lowered her gaze, her twin ponytails bouncing with the motion. "Yes, Master. This humble slave is truly sorry. This slave's head got too arrogant." She giggled softly as she crawled, her youthful face bright with genuine happiness.

Li Que remained silent, her fiery red hair trailing behind her like a banner of submission. Where once there had been pride and defiance, now there was only calm acceptance. Her athletic body moved with precision, each crawl a testament to decades of training.

Shen Mengyue brought up the rear, her waist-length black hair sweeping the ground as she moved. Despite her nakedness and humiliating position, she carried herself with a dignity that could not be broken—only redirected, channeled into absolute devotion to the man who held her leash.

The disciples parted like water before stones as Xuanfa walked through their ranks. Some were newer recruits, barely Foundation Establishment, trembling at the sight of the three Divine Transformation stage elders crawling like common beasts. Others were older members who had witnessed this ritual countless times, yet still felt awe at the transformation of three such powerful women.

"You three have broken through to the late Divine Transformation stage, correct?" Xuanfa asked, stopping at the center of the training ground.

The three women immediately ceased crawling and knelt, pressing their foreheads to the cool stone. "This humble slave thanks the master," they said in unison, their voices carrying across the silent courtyard.

Lin Qiaoxin raised her head slightly, her voice bright. "Thanks to the master's severe spanking of our buttocks and the spiritual energy of the Xuantian Realm, we managed to break through to the late Divine Transformation stage in three hundred years."

Li Que nodded firmly. "Every strike of the Heavenly Dao plank cultivated this slave's foundation. Every day of discipline shaped this slave's path."

Shen Mengyue's voice was soft but clear. "This humble slave, Moon Slave, owes everything to the master's punishment. Without the master's strict discipline, this slave would still be trapped in the ignorance of pride."

Xuanfa's cold expression did not change, but a faint trace of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. He reached into his storage ring and withdrew three golden chains, each glowing with ancient runes. The Immortal Binding Locks hummed with power, capable of restraining even a Divine Transformation stage cultivator.

"Since you have broken through, I have a task for you three." Xuanfa tossed each chain to its respective owner. "The Sword Heaven Sect's Sect Leader, Bai Zhenshuang, has spoken disrespectfully of my Zefeng Sect. The Hundred Flowers Valley's Valley Master, Hua Qianyu, permitted her disciples to occupy the Zefeng Sect's medicine garden. The Demon Race's Saintess, Su Qianyao, used seduction techniques to confuse the minds of Zefeng Sect disciples."

He paused, letting the weight of the accusations settle.

"You three are to go inform Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao that they are to strip naked voluntarily, kneel at the entrance of the Zefeng Sect, stick out their buttocks, and be spanked. One hundred Heavenly Dao planks on the buttocks daily for ten years as a minor punishment. If they resist, defeat them and use the Immortal Binding Lock to bring them back."

The three slave girls accepted the chains with reverence. Lin Qiaoxin examined hers with a playful smile. "The Heavenly Dao planks, Master? That's quite a punishment. This slave remembers the first time the master applied those planks to this slave's bottom. This slave couldn't sit for three days!"

Li Que clutched her chain with both hands. "If they resist, they will learn why this slave is called Sparrow Slave. This slave will show them the flames that forged this slave's submission."

Shen Mengyue bowed deeply. "Moon Slave will complete this task without fail. Shall this slave deliver the message first to the Sword Heaven Sect?"

Xuanfa nodded once. "You will go together. Let them see the three of you and know what awaits them."

Lin Qiaoxin crawled forward a bit, pressing her cheek against Xuanfa's boot. "Master, this slave has a request."

"Speak."

"Since this slave, Sparrow Slave, and Moon Slave have all broken through to the late Divine Transformation stage, this slave humbly requests an increase in the daily number of spanks." She looked up with eager eyes. "Four hundred spanks per day. This slave's bottom has grown accustomed to the Heavenly Dao planks. Two hundred is barely a warm-up."

Li Que and Shen Mengyue nodded in agreement.

Xuanfa allowed a faint chuckle to escape his lips. "Now you've fallen in love with the feeling of being spanked, haven't you?"

The three women blushed, but none denied it. "Yes, Master," they admitted in unison.

"After you complete this mission, I will consider increasing your punishment," Xuanfa said. "But a request for more punishment must be earned. Complete this task without fail, and I shall grant your wish."

The three kowtowed deeply. "This slave thanks the master!"

Xuanfa turned and began walking toward the main hall. "Let's finish today's punishment first. Then you may depart."

The three slave girls rose to their feet and followed, their chains clinking softly. Behind them, the disciples slowly rose from their prostrations, watching their elders with a mixture of awe and confusion.

In the main hall, Xuanfa sat upon a black jade throne. He raised his hand and summoned three figures who appeared to be about eighteen years old, each wearing only black slave collars. They entered on hands and knees, their movements mirroring their mothers'. Lin Yuxin bounced slightly as she crawled, her youthful energy evident despite her position. Li Yunling moved with quiet precision, her athletic form graceful. Shen Xingmian glided forward, her pure features the very image of her mother Shen Mengyue.

"Greetings, Master," the three young women said in unison, pressing their foreheads to the ground before Xuanfa.

Xuanfa gestured toward the three kneeling elders. "Your mothers' butts are itching. Take the Heavenly Dao planks and spank their buttocks, two hundred each. Then make them spread their legs and whip their perineal slits one hundred times each."

"Yes, Master," the three young women replied without hesitation.

Lin Yuxin retrieved a Heavenly Dao plank from the weapon rack—a board of pale white wood, two feet long and half a foot wide, inscribed with runes that seemed to shimmer in the light. The plank hummed with power, its surface smooth but carrying the weight of countless punishments.

Li Yunling and Shen Xingmian each took their own planks.

The three elder slave girls positioned themselves without being told. They knelt in a row, facing away from their daughters, and presented their buttocks. Shen Mengyue parted her cheeks with her own hands, exposing every inch of her skin. Li Que leaned forward until her shoulders touched the ground, her rear angled upward in perfect presentation. Lin Qiaoxin wiggled slightly, anticipation dancing in her eyes.

"Ah, this brings back memories," Lin Qiaoxin said with a grin. "Yuxin dear, do you remember the first time I taught you how to spank Master's other slaves?"

"Yes, Mother," Lin Yuxin replied, positioning herself behind her mother. "This slave was only twelve then. This slave's hands trembled so much that the first strike missed entirely and hit your thigh."

Lin Qiaoxin laughed. "Master was not pleased. This slave still had marks on that thigh for weeks. But you learned quickly."

Shen Xingmian stood behind her mother, her expression gentle but focused. "Mother, this slave will begin now."

Shen Mengyue nodded without turning. "Do your best, daughter. Remember what this mother taught you—the Heavenly Dao plank must strike true, with all the weight of the universe behind it, but held in check by the discipline of the wielder. Too light, and it is affection. Too heavy, and it is cruelty. The perfect strike is both punishment and cultivation."

Shen Xingmian raised the plank. "This slave understands, Mother." She brought it down with a sharp crack.

The sound echoed through the hall as the plank connected with Shen Mengyue's right buttock. Her flesh rippled from the impact, a red mark blooming across her pale skin. She did not flinch, did not cry out—only exhaled slowly, her body relaxing into the blow.

"That is the way," Shen Mengyue said softly.

Li Yunling raised her plank and brought it down on her mother Li Que's firm buttock. The crack was sharper, the athletic muscle absorbing the blow with a density that spoke of years of combat training.

"Harder," Li Que commanded. "You strike like a Foundation Establishment child. This is the Heavenly Dao plank. Make it mean something."

Li Yunling's jaw tightened. "Yes, Mother." She raised the plank higher and swung with greater force, the runes on the board glowing brighter as she channeled her Golden Core energy into the strike.

The second blow cracked across Li Que's other cheek, leaving an angry red line that swelled immediately. This time, Li Que grunted, a sound of satisfaction rather than pain.

"Better," she said. "But you can still improve. The power comes from the hips, not the shoulders. Twist into it."

Lin Yuxin brought her plank down on her mother Lin Qiaoxin with a playful swing. The crack was accompanied by Lin Qiaoxin's cheerful yelp.

"Oh! That one had spirit!" Lin Qiaoxin said, wiggling her hips. "But you missed the spot, dear. The center of the cheek, where the muscle is thickest. That's where the punishment lingers."

Lin Yuxin adjusted her aim. "Like this, Mother?" She struck again, the plank landing perfectly on the center of her mother's right buttock.

"Yes! That's it!" Lin Qiaoxin sighed happily. "Now do that a hundred and ninety-eight more times, and this mother's bottom will be properly red!"

The rhythm of the planks filled the hall. Crack after crack echoed as the three young women administered punishment to their mothers. The elder slave girls offered constant instruction—how to angle the plank, how to follow through, how to breath with each strike.

On the thirtieth strike, Shen Xingmian paused. "Mother, this slave notices you are not tightening your muscles."

"No," Shen Mengyue replied calmly. "A wise slave does not resist punishment. She accepts it fully, lets the pain flow through her and purify her. Tightening only delays the lesson. Relaxation accelerates it."

"I see." Shen Xingmian resumed, her strikes becoming more precise.

By the hundredth strike, the three elder slave girls' buttocks had transformed from pale white to deep crimson. The Heavenly Dao planks had thoroughly worked each cheek, leaving them swollen and hot. Still, no tears were shed, no pleas for mercy uttered.

Lin Qiaoxin hummed a tune between strikes. "This reminds this slave of the first year of discipline. Master spanked this slave every day without fail. By the third day, this slave could barely walk. By the end of the first month, this slave had learned to love the sting."

Li Que remained silent, her breathing steady, her bo

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the mountain pass of the Zehuang Sect, where a lone figure knelt in the dust. Su Qianyao's silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, her naked body on display as she presented herself for punishment. Her wrists were bound behind her back with heavy chains, and her buttocks were raised high, offering her most vulnerable flesh to the open air.

Sixty warriors stood at the base of the pass, their armor gleaming under the sun. At their head, A Zi, a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, stared in disbelief at the scene before him. His face twisted with rage as he recognized the silver-haired woman kneeling in submission. The Holy Maiden of the Demon Clan, the seductress who had confounded countless cultivators, was being spanked like a common criminal.

A Zi cupped his hands around his mouth and sent a thunderous voice transmission echoing across the mountain pass. "Zehuang Sect! Release the Holy Maiden immediately! You have no right to lay hands on her!"

The sound of spanking paused for a moment. Two naked figures emerged from the mist that shrouded the mountain pass. They walked with measured steps, their bodies fully exposed to the elements and to the eyes of the gathered warriors.

Bai Zhenshuang led the way. Her long black hair fell freely down her back, brushing against the firm curve of her buttocks. Her chest was full and proud, her waist slender, her skin pale as moonlight. She carried herself with the cold dignity of a sword immortal, yet she was completely nude, her body offered to the world without shame. In her eyes, there was no trace of embarrassment—only the serene obedience of one who had accepted her place.

Beside her walked Hua Qianyu. Her cyan hair was loosely tied, a few strands hanging by her ears. Her face was gentle as still water, her eyes warm and soft. Her body was plump and well-proportioned, with full breasts that swayed slightly with each step. She too showed no shame. Her nudity was like that of a priestess at a sacred altar—an offering, not a disgrace.

The bodyguard team gasped. Some of the warriors averted their eyes, unable to bear the sight of such revered figures in this state. Others stared, their expressions a mix of shock and anger.

A Zi's voice trembled with fury. "Bai Zhenshuang! Hua Qianyu! What is the meaning of this? The Heavenly Sword Sect and Hundred Flowers Valley have fallen so low as to collude with this tyrant?"

Bai Zhenshuang stopped a few paces from the kneeling Su Qianyao. Her voice was cold and clear. "You are mistaken. I am no longer the sect master of the Heavenly Sword Sect. By the grace of Xuanfa Heavenly Lord, I was accepted as a female slave and given the name Shuang Nu. I receive daily spanking punishment."

Hua Qianyu smiled gently and added, "I too am no longer the valley lord of Hundred Flowers Valley. I thank Xuanfa Heavenly Lord for granting me the privilege of being a female slave, and I have been given the name Yu Nu. I must also receive daily spanking punishment. Moreover, your Holy Maiden Su Qianyao chose to stay here willingly."

The warriors erupted in outrage. Weapons were drawn, spiritual energy flared, and battle cries filled the air. A Zi raised his hand, and sixty warriors formed a formation, their combined auras surging like a tide. They were all late-stage Core Formation cultivators, trained in a joint attack technique that could overwhelm even several Nascent Soul cultivators.

"Release the Holy Maiden, or die!" A Zi shouted.

Bai Zhenshuang drew her sword, Ningshuang. The blade gleamed like frozen moonlight. Hua Qianyu raised her hands, pale green spiritual energy swirling around her fingers—ready to heal or to harm.

The battle began.

The bodyguard team charged, their formation unleashing waves of energy that crashed against the two female cultivators. Bai Zhenshuang moved like a phantom, her sword leaving trails of frost in the air. Each strike was precise, meant to disable rather than kill. Hua Qianyu wove defensive formations on the fly, her gentle face hardened into concentration. Together, they held the line.

But it was the sound from the mountain pass that truly unsettled the warriors. Su Qianyao was being spanked. Each strike landed with a sharp crack, and each blow drew from her a moan that was not of pain but of pleasure. Her hips rolled slightly, her whole body trembling with each impact. The warriors could not believe their ears.

"How can this be?" one warrior muttered, losing focus. "The Holy Maiden came from a beating!"

The bodyguard team's morale wavered. Bai Zhenshuang pressed her advantage, her sword flashing. Hua Qianyu's techniques grew more aggressive, no longer just defensive. One by one, the warriors were disarmed, bound, or knocked unconscious. A Zi fought fiercely, but even he could not match the combined might of two late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators.

Su Qianyao's moans grew louder, more desperate. Her body arched as a wave of pleasure crashed through her. She collapsed forward, her buttocks purple and swollen, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The spanking had brought her to climax, and she lay in the dust, panting.

The last of the bodyguard team fell. A Zi knelt, his weapon knocked from his hands. He looked up at the two naked women standing over him, then at the Holy Maiden writhing on the ground.

Su Qianyao lifted her head, her silver hair plastered to her face. Her voice was weak but sincere. "Sisters of the bodyguard team, I, Yao Nu, truly chose to stay here. I have always wanted someone to beat my buttocks to pieces."

The bodyguard team exchanged glances. Defeated, and with the Holy Maiden refusing to leave, they had no choice. A Zi rose, helped his sisters to their feet, and led them in a retreat. They did not look back.

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu returned to the main hall of the Zehuang Sect. They knelt before Xuanfa, their bodies still bare, their skin flushed from the exertion of battle.

Xuanfa sat upon his throne, his black training clothes immaculate, his expression cold and unreadable. "You have done well," he said. "But your work is not finished."

He told them of two small sects: the Qinglan Palace and the Jiuyou Valley. Both had allowed their disciples to clash with the Zehuang Sect. Their discipline was lax. For these minor sects without Nascent Soul cultivators, a light punishment would suffice. The two leaders and the offending disciples were to strip off their clothes, kneel at the mountain pass, raise their buttocks, and be spanked. One hundred strikes of the Heavenly Dao Board every day for three years. If they resisted, severe punishment would follow.

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu bowed their heads. "Yes, Master."

Bai Zhenshuang walked alone to the entrance of Qinglan Palace. She passed through the gate, her naked body catching the light. The disciples of Qinglan Palace stared in horror as the former Heavenly Sword Sect master strode through their halls, her flesh on display. Bai Zhenshuang's expression was cold, but inside, a warm current of obedience flowed through her. This was her place—to be seen, to be humbled, to serve her Master. She reached the main hall, where Yun Qing'er, the palace lord, trembled on her throne.

Bai Zhenshuang spoke. "By order of Xuanfa Heavenly Lord, you and your offending disciples will strip, kneel at the mountain pass of the Zehuang Sect, and receive one hundred strokes of the Heavenly Dao Board each day for three years. Do not resist."

Yun Qing'er's face drained of color. If even Bai Zhenshuang, a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, had been reduced to a female slave, what hope did she have? She nodded, stripped off her robes, and led her disciples, naked and weeping, toward the mountain pass.

Hua Qianyu arrived at the Jiuyou Valley. She walked with the same gentle steps, her nude form drawing gasps and whispers. Her eyes held no shame, only devotion. She found You Lan, the valley lord, and delivered the same message.

You Lan fell to her knees. "I accept the punishment."

Soon, a line of naked women knelt at the mountain pass of the Zehuang Sect. Their buttocks were raised, waiting. The Heavenly Dao Boards descended.

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu reported back to Xuanfa. He nodded. "You have served well. For your reward, what do you desire?"

The two exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with devotion. They knelt before him, their buttocks raised high. "We wish to be spanked severely by the Master in public. Four hundred strokes of buttocks spanking, to have our buttocks beaten open before all. The Master's punishment and humiliation are the reward for female slaves."

Xuanfa's lips curled into the faintest smile. He raised his hand, and two Heavenly Dao Boards materialized in the air, hovering above each woman.

The spanking began.

The first strike landed on Bai Zhenshuang's right buttock. The wood connected with a sharp slap, sending a ripple across her flesh. She gasped, but did not cry out. The second strike landed on her left. The third on her right. Soon, a rhythm was established—crack, crack, crack—each blow harder than the last. Her pale skin reddened, then deepened to a cherry hue. Hua Qianyu suffered similarly, her plump buttocks jiggling with each impact, the sound echoing across the hall.

By the hundredth stroke, Bai Zhenshuang's buttocks were bright red, swollen, and hot to the touch. She bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, but she did not move. Hua Qianyu whimpered, her gentle composure cracking, her thighs trembling.

Two hundred strokes. Their buttocks turned purple, the skin stretched taut over the swelling. They began to cry softly, tears streaming down their cheeks.

Three hundred strokes. The flesh split in places, thin red lines of blood appearing. Bai Zhenshuang's knuckles were white from clenching her fists. Hua Qianyu sobbed openly, her voice hoarse.

Four hundred strokes. Their buttocks were ruined—purple, swollen, bruised, and bloody. They lay panting on the floor, unable to rise, their rear ends a mess of pain and submission.

The cultivation world would learn of this. The Heavenly Sword Sect's Bai Zhenshuang, the Hundred Flowers Valley's Hua Qianyu, and the Demon Clan's Holy Maiden Su Qianyao—all had been tamed by Xuanfa, taken as female slaves. Female cultivators across the land trembled at the mere mention of the name Xuanfa. His prestige was absolute, his power unquestioned.

And in the main hall of the Zehuang Sect, two broken women lay at his feet, their punishment complete, their loyalty affirmed.

Inside the Xuantian Realm, the air was thick with spiritual energy that coiled like invisible serpents around the ancient pillars. Six naked women knelt on the cold jade floor, their bodies bare except for the black slave collars encircling their necks. Their skin gleamed under the soft luminescence of the realm, each curve and contour exposed without shame. Before them stood Xuanfa, his black training clothes clinging to his muscular frame, his face an unreadable mask of cold authority.

Lin Qiaoxin, her twin low ponytails bouncing as she shifted her weight, spoke first. "Master, the cultivation world is buzzing with news of us six female slaves. They call us Xin Nu, Que Nu, Yue Nu, Shuang Nu, Yu Nu, and Yao Nu. Everywhere we go, naked and proud, we seek out those female cultivators who have offended you. We spank their buttocks severely until they learn their place."

Li Que, her fiery red hair tied in a high ponytail, nodded sharply. "Que Nu has personally punished over a dozen arrogant women this month alone. Their screams echo through the valleys."

Shen Mengyue, her waist-length black hair cascading over her shoulders, added softly, "Yue Nu has also seen great progress among the Zehuang Sect disciples. Their sword techniques have sharpened, their combat skills improved, their formations more intricate, their alchemy more potent, and their divine senses more acute."

Hua Qianyu, her long cyan hair loosely tied, smiled gently. "Yu Nu has taught the disciples well in healing and alchemy. They now brew elixirs that rival those of ancient masters."

Bai Zhenshuang, her cold features serene, said nothing but gave a slight nod of agreement.

Su Qianyao, her silver hair shimmering and red pupils gleaming, spoke with a seductive lilt. "Yao Nu also took time to seduce a talented female cultivator back, named Nangong Xue. Her older sister is Nangong Wan, the late-stage Nascent Soul sect master of the Crimson Flower Spirit Realm. But Sister Xue has been resisting fiercely lately."

Li Que snorted, her athletic body tensing. "Hand her over to Que Nu. Watch me spank her buttocks dozens of times until she dares to be stubborn again."

Xuanfa's eyes swept over them, cold and assessing. "All six of you have performed well. From now on, you don't need to kneel when you meet me; just bow."

The six women's eyes widened with surprise and delight. They exchanged glances, then rose gracefully, their bodies still bare, and bowed deeply from the waist.

Xuanfa pulled out six black belts from his storage ring. The belts were dark as midnight, with a subtle sheen that suggested living scales. "This is a magical artifact refined from the skin of the demon Mo Jiao, called the Shadow-Chasing Belt. Once infused with spiritual power, it will automatically track and spank buttocks, no matter the movement or posture. It can't escape." He paused, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Although it's not as painful as the Heavenly Dao Board, it should be enough for additional punishment."

Su Qianyao eagerly took the belt, her fingers caressing its smooth surface. "The Master has given a wonderful treasure. Yao Nu's fat ass can't get enough even with four hundred board strikes a day. Yao Nu will use the Shadow-Chasing Belt to beat this greedy buttocks of mine severely." She slapped her own rear with a sharp crack, making the flesh jiggle.

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, her youthful face bright. "That means we can be spanked anytime? Great! Xin Nu will use it every moment."

Li Que grabbed her belt with a firm grip. "Que Nu will drive it with maximum spiritual power to spank her own buttocks to a pulp."

Shen Mengyue accepted hers gracefully. "Yue Nu thanks the Master for the generous gift and will use it well to punish her buttocks."

Hua Qianyu held hers with both hands. "Yu Nu will use the artifact properly to ensure her buttocks are thoroughly beaten."

Bai Zhenshuang took hers without expression, but her voice carried steel. "For the gift of the treasure, Shuang Nu will repay it by punishing her buttocks thoroughly. I will spank myself until my buttocks are beaten to pieces."

---

In the Zehuang Sect, the training grounds were alive with activity. Female disciples, all naked, moved through their drills with focused intensity. The six elders stood before them, each teaching their specialty.

Shen Mengyue and Bai Zhenshuang stood side by side, demonstrating sword forms. Their bodies moved with fluid grace, arms extending, legs bending, but behind them, two black belts whirled and struck.

*Crack!*

The Shadow-Chasing Belt attached to Shen Mengyue's collar lashed against her buttocks, leaving a red stripe across the pale flesh. She didn't flinch. Her voice remained steady as she corrected a disciple's stance.

*Crack! Crack!*

Bai Zhenshuang's belt hammered her full, round buttocks with rhythmic precision. Each blow caused waves of flesh to ripple. Her expression remained cold, her sword tip unwavering.

Li Que stood in the combat arena, her body tensed for a demonstration. The belt behind her struck with brutal force.

*Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!*

Each impact sent her athletic buttocks bouncing. She grabbed a disciple by the arm and showed her a grappling technique, her voice firm and commanding, as if the punishment didn't exist.

Lin Qiaoxin sat cross-legged on a raised platform, explaining the intricacies of a formation array. The belt snaked behind her, landing on her youthful, perky buttocks.

*Smack! Smack! Smack!*

She giggled as she pointed to a diagram. "See how the energy flows here? You need to align your spiritual power just so."

Hua Qianyu stood in the alchemy hall, her hands mixing herbs in a mortar. The belt struck her plump buttocks without mercy.

*Whap! Whap! Whap!*

She smiled gently at a disciple. "Add the moonflower petals slowly. Patience is key."

Su Qianyao was in a separate chamber, her divine sense radiating outward as she guided disciples through mental exercises. The belt pursued her curvy, voluptuous buttocks.

*Slap! Slap! Slap!*

She wiggled her hips slightly, a playful smirk on her lips. "Focus, girls. Don't let a little spanking distract you."

Throughout the sect, the sound of spanking was constant. *Crack, thwack, smack, whap, slap*—a symphony of punishment. The belts never stopped. They followed the six women everywhere, even when they walked between buildings, even when they paused to drink water. The blows landed on their buttocks again and again, turning the skin a deep, rosy red. But the women acted as if nothing was happening. Their postures remained erect, their voices calm, their teachings precise. The contrast was stark: six naked women with slave collars, their buttocks being beaten black and blue, yet they moved with the grace of immortals and the authority of masters.

---

Back inside the Xuantian Realm, Xuanfa stood with his arms crossed, watching the six women after they returned from their teaching duties. Their buttocks were still red and swollen from the Shadow-Chasing Belts, but they stood proudly before him.

He looked at Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao. "You three were captured and made female slaves by Shen Mengyue, Li Que, and Lin Qiaoxin respectively. Have you ever thought of paying them back?"

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu were startled. They exchanged a glance, then shook their heads.

"Never, Master," Bai Zhenshuang said, her voice steady. "Shuang Nu is grateful that Shen Mengyue captured me. It allowed me to be severely spanked by the Master and become his female slave. I would not repay that with vengeance."

Hua Qianyu nodded. "Yu Nu feels the same. Being captured by Li Que was the best thing that ever happened to me. The Master's spankings taught me true submission."

Su Qianyao licked her lips, her red pupils glinting. "Yao Nu has long wanted to personally spank Sister Xin's buttocks. Sister Xin's buttocks are round and perky; they must look beautiful when spanked."

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue immediately knelt on the floor, turning around and raising their buttocks high. Their swollen, red buttocks presented themselves to the three women.

Lin Qiaoxin said cheerfully, "Come on, Sister Yao, spank Xin Nu's buttocks hard. See if your spanking hurts as much as the Master's."

Li Que said firmly, "Please, Sister Yu, spank Que Nu's buttocks with all your strength. Don't hold back."

Shen Mengyue said gently, "Please, Sister Shuang, punish Yue Nu's buttocks as much as you like."

Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao picked up the Heavenly Dao Boards that Xuanfa produced from nowhere. The boards were thick, heavy, and imbued with the power of heaven.

Su Qianyao was the first. She lifted the board high and brought it down on Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks.

*CRACK!*

Lin Qiaoxin gasped but held her position. Her perky buttocks absorbed the blow, a red welt rising instantly.

*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*

Su Qianyao struck with wild enthusiasm, each blow landing on the same spot. The sound echoed through the realm. Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks began to purple, the skin splitting in places.

"One hundred!" Su Qianyao counted, her voice breathless with excitement.

*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*

Lin Qiaoxin's body shook, but she didn't cry out. Her playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a grim endurance.

"Two hundred!"

The blows continued, faster now. Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks were a mess of purple and red, the flesh pulping under the board.

"Three hundred!"

Sweat dripped from Lin Qiaoxin's forehead. She gripped the floor, her knuckles white.

"Four hundred!"

The final blow landed with a wet thud. Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks were completely beaten open, the skin torn, blood seeping out. She collapsed forward, panting, but a smile remained on her face.

Meanwhile, Hua Qianyu was working on Li Que. She lifted the board with both hands and brought it down with a gentle but firm precision.

*THWACK!*

Li Que grunted, her athletic body tensing. The board left a deep red line.

*THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!*

Hua Qianyu struck methodically, covering every inch of Li Que's buttocks. The proud warrior's rear jiggled and bounced under the assault. Soon, it turned a deep purple, then black in places.

"One hundred!"

Li Que bit her lip, refusing to make a sound.

"Two hundred!"

The board felt heavier with each blow. Li Que's buttocks were now swollen to twice their normal size.

"Three hundred!"

Blood began to trickle down her thighs.

"Four hundred!"

The final blow split the skin open. Li Que let out a sharp hiss but remained kneeling, her head held high.

Bai Zhenshuang faced Shen Mengyue. The cold sword immortal lifted the board without hesitation.

*SLAP!*

Shen Mengyue's full, mature buttocks recoiled. Her waist-length black hair swayed.

*SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!*

Bai Zhenshuang's strokes were precise and severe, each one landing with the force of a sword strike. Shen Mengyue's pale skin turned red, then purple, then black.

"One hundred!"

Shen Mengyue's body trembled, but she kept her posture.

"Two hundred!"

Her breathing grew ragged.

"Three hundred!"

Blood sprayed with each blow.

"Four hundred!"

The board came down one last time, and Shen Mengyue's buttocks split open, revealing raw flesh beneath. She slumped forward, gasping, but her eyes were clear with gratitude.

Xuanfa watched the entire scene, his expression unchanged. After the last blow, he spoke.

"All six of you, go and cultivate well. The Wuling City's Asking the Way meeting is about to begin. It is a grand competition for cultivators. You six will participate and bring renown to the Zehuang Sect."

The six women, their buttocks bloody and torn, bowed deeply. "Yes, Master."

They rose, the Shadow-Chasing Belts immediately resuming their assault, cracking against their abused buttocks as they walked away. But not a single wince crossed their faces. They were the slaves of Xuanfa, and punishment was their reward.

The sun hung high over Wuling City, casting long shadows across the crowded arena. Cultivators packed the stands and the grounds, their murmurs a low hum of anticipation. The Asking the Way meeting had begun, and the air crackled with spiritual energy. But when six figures stepped onto the main platform, the noise died into stunned silence.

Lin Qiaoxin walked at the front, her twin black ponytails bouncing with each light step. Her youthful face held a cheerful grin, her body slender and well-proportioned, bare under the midday light. The black slave collar around her neck gleamed dully. Behind her, Li Que followed with fierce red hair pulled into a high ponytail, her athletic frame taut with coiled strength, every muscle defined as she moved with predatory grace. Shen Mengyue came next, her waist-length black hair swaying, her skin like polished jade. She had the ethereal purity of a goddess and the seductive charm of a woman who knew her body’s power. Bai Zhenshuang walked beside her, delicate features cold and aloof, her full chest and round buttocks drawing involuntary stares, her long black hair cascading down her back. Hua Qianyu followed, gentle-faced, with cyan hair loosely tied, her plump figure soft and inviting. And last, Su Qianyao, her silver hair flowing like moonlight, her red eyes gleaming with seductive mischief, her curves so pronounced that even the most disciplined male cultivators felt their throats go dry.

They were all completely naked.

No robes, no concealing qi. Only the black collars and the Shadow-Chasing Belts wrapped around each woman’s waist, the belts’ ends trailing down to hover just above their bare buttocks.

The moment they appeared, a wave of shock rippled through the crowd. Faces flushed red. Some cultivators turned away in embarrassment; others stared openly with confusion or anger. A cultivation meeting was a place of dignity and discipline. What was this?

A middle-aged cultivator in blue robes stepped forward, his voice sharp. “The Asking the Way meeting is a grand assembly of cultivators! What is the meaning of appearing naked? This is an outrage!”

Lin Qiaoxin tilted her head, her grin widening. “Outrage? What do you want Xin Nu to do? Crawl on the ground? I don’t mind, but that wouldn’t be convenient for participating in the meeting.” She laughed, the sound light and carefree, as if she were discussing the weather.

Shen Mengyue’s voice was calm, serene as still water. “We are all female slaves of Xuanfa Heavenly Lord. Female slaves must always remain naked. There is nothing unusual in it.”

Another cultivator, a man with a thin beard, sneered loudly. “I never thought that naked female slaves could also participate in the Asking the Way meeting. What a joke.”

Li Que’s eyes flashed with contempt. She did not even glance at him as she replied, “As I recall, the qualification for participation is Core Formation and above. It does not say female slaves cannot participate. Perhaps you have trouble reading.”

The crowd stirred. A few cultivators chuckled nervously. The thin-bearded man’s face reddened.

Bai Zhenshuang’s cold voice cut through the murmurs. “Surely you do not lack the confidence to defeat a female slave who is completely naked. If so, then withdraw now and save yourself the shame.”

Anger flared in the crowd. A female cultivator, young and indignant, stepped forward, her robes fluttering. “You female slaves are a disgrace to all female cultivators! Do you have no shame?”

Hua Qianyu’s gentle face showed no offense. She spoke softly, her tone carrying a strange peace. “We female slaves have no dignity. Everything is for the Master. Enduring the Master’s punishment and humiliation is our duty. If you find it shameful, that is your own heart’s burden.”

Su Qianyao let out a silvery laugh. She licked her lips and leaned forward, her voice dripping with honey. “Little sister, would you like to try spanking? Yao Nu’s buttocks are sent to heaven and earth by the board every day. I could show you how pleasant it can be.” Her red eyes sparkled with wicked amusement.

The young female cultivator’s face went pale, then crimson. She spat and retreated into the crowd.

The bell tolled. The Asking the Way meeting began.

Cultivators moved to their assigned competition grounds. The six female slaves separated, each heading to her domain. But before they could take a single step, the Shadow-Chasing Belts awakened.

They moved like bloodthirsty beasts, coiling and snapping. The belts were made of a dark, supple material, enchanted to seek the softest target. Without warning, the first belt lashed out.

Crack!

Lin Qiaoxin’s buttocks trembled as the belt struck her right cheek. A red line appeared instantly. She did not flinch. Instead, she giggled and glanced back. “Oh, you’re eager today, aren’t you?”

Crack-crack-crack!

The belts did not stop. They struck in rapid succession, each blow landing with a sharp, wet slap against bare flesh. Waves rippled across the women’s buttocks, the sound echoing across the arena. The crowd gasped. Some male cultivators felt a strange mixture of pity and arousal. Female cultivators stared in horror and disgust.

But the six women acted as if nothing were happening.

Shen Mengyue walked to the sword competition platform. Bai Zhenshuang joined her. The two of them tied the same belt—it was a dual-length belt, one end for Shen Mengyue, one for Bai Zhenshuang. As they stood side by side, the belt thrashed both their buttocks simultaneously. Crack! The belt slapped Shen Mengyue’s left cheek, then whipped across to hit Bai Zhenshuang’s right. The impact made their buttocks jiggle, but their faces remained impassive. Their opponent, a Core Formation sword cultivator, stared at them, his sword wavering.

“Ready?” Bai Zhenshuang asked, her tone bored.

The match began. Shen Mengyue drew Zixia, her sword humming with purple light. Bai Zhenshuang drew Ningshuang, its blade cold as ice. They moved as one, their swords dancing in perfect harmony. The belt never stopped. Crack-crack-crack! It spanked Shen Mengyue’s buttocks, then Bai Zhenshuang’s, alternating with unrelenting rhythm. The sound merged with the clang of metal. Yet their swordplay was flawless—swift, precise, deadly.

The opponent barely lasted three exchanges. Shen Mengyue’s Zixia swept low, disarming him. Bai Zhenshuang’s Ningshuang pressed against his throat. He surrendered, his face pale.

Meanwhile, on the alchemy platform, Li Que and Hua Qianyu worked together. Li Que conjured flames from her palms, her fire red and fierce. Hua Qianyu tossed ingredients into the cauldron, her movements fluid and practiced. Their belt—a single belt that wound around both their waists—lashed their buttocks without mercy. Crack! Crack! Crack! The blows came in pairs, left-right, left-right. Li Que’s athletic buttocks reddened, but her flames only grew hotter. Hua Qianyu’s plump cheeks quivered with each strike, but her potion bubbled perfectly.

Their opponents, several alchemists, struggled to concentrate. The constant slap-slap-slap distracted them. One dropped a medicine bottle. Another misjudged the temperature. Li Que smirked and added a burst of flame. The cauldron erupted with a brilliant glow—a perfect pill, top grade.

“Looks like we win,” Hua Qianyu said softly, wiping sweat from her brow. The belt spanked her again. She closed her eyes briefly, a small sigh escaping her lips.

Lin Qiaoxin had the formation competition. She stood in the center of a complex array field, her hands drawing runes in the air. The belt around her waist was the most energetic of all—it snapped against her buttocks with wild abandon, leaving red welts across both cheeks. She did not even pause. Her fingers traced intricate patterns, each line perfect. The array she built was layered, adaptive, unbreakable.

Her opponent, a formation master from a northern sect, stared at her with wide eyes. “How can you concentrate?!” he shouted, as the belt cracked again.

“Xin Nu has been spanked every day for decades,” she said cheerfully. “This is nothing. It’s like a massage.” She finished her array with a flourish. It activated, trapping him in a cage of light. “I win!”

Su Qianyao’s competition was divine sense. She sat cross-legged on a platform, her eyes closed. The belt struck her buttocks hard, making her silk-soft skin bounce and ripple. Each blow sent a jolt through her body, but her red lips curved into a smile. She projected her divine sense outward, a wave of seductive energy that disoriented her opponents. One by one, they faltered, their focus broken. Soon, only she remained, her buttocks now a deep crimson.

“Yao Nu thanks you for the lovely beating,” she purred, opening her eyes. The belt struck one final time, and she moaned softly.

The competition ended. The six female slaves stood together, their buttocks red, swollen, marked with overlapping lines—but their faces calm, victorious. The crowd was silent. Then whispers erupted.

“They won… while being spanked the whole time…”

“Those belts moved like monsters. And they didn’t even react.”

“If Xuanfa Heavenly Lord’s female slaves are this formidable… what about him?”

The Zehuang Sect’s fame spread like wildfire. Word of the naked female slaves who spanked themselves while defeating all comers reached every corner of the cultivation world. Some were disgusted. Some were curious. Many were afraid.

But fear did nothing to stop the formation of resistance.

In a large hall deep within the Red Flower Spirit Realm, a group of female cultivators gathered. They sat in a circle, their expressions grim. At the head stood two women.

Nangong Wan, sect master of the Crimson Flower Spirit Realm, was a woman of regal bearing. Her long black hair was pinned up with a jade hairpin, her robes the color of blood-red petals. Her eyes were sharp as needles. She was a late-stage Nascent Soul expert, feared for her divine sense. Beside her stood Zi Yun, valley lord of the Purple Spirit Valley. Zi Yun’s hair was deep purple, her robes flowing like twilight mist. She was known for her formations, second only to Lin Qiaoxin in skill.

Nangong Wan spoke, her voice trembling with rage. “You have all heard what happened at the Asking the Way meeting. The Zehuang Sect—that lecher Xuanfa—sends his slaves to humiliate themselves and us. My own younger sister was taken by his demon, Su Qianyao. She is spanked every day. Every day!” Her hands clenched into fists. “This cannot stand.”

A murmur of agreement ran through the hall. Another female cultivator stood up. “They capture female cultivators at will. They strip them, collar them, beat them like animals. And they call it discipline.”

“It is an insult to all female cultivators,” Zi Yun said, her voice calm but hard. “We have tolerated this long enough. If we do nothing, no woman in this world will be safe.”

Nangong Wan raised her hand. “I propose we form the Qingluan Alliance. We will unite our sects, our forces, our talents. We will train in secret. We will strike when the time is right.” Her eyes blazed. “We will defeat Xuanfa. We will free every female slave he has defiled. We will burn the Zehuang Sect to the ground.”

Cheers and cries of agreement filled the hall. Female cultivators raised their fists, their swords, their staves. The Qingluan Alliance was born.

But as they celebrated, none of them knew that Xuanfa’s reach extended far beyond their imagination. None of them knew that the belts that spanked his slaves were not merely punishments—they were training. And the women who endured them had become warriors forged in pain and pleasure.

None of them knew that their decision would soon plunge the entire cultivation world of female cultivators into a hell of spanking punishment.

But they would learn. Oh, they would learn.

The sky above the Zefeng Sect darkened as a vast formation of female cultivators descended, their combined auras churning the clouds into a storm. One hundred thousand strong, they spread across the heavens like an ocean of sword light and spiritual pressure. At their forefront stood two women, both radiating the terrifying presence of the Divine Transformation stage—Nangong Wan, clad in azure battle robes, her face cold as iron, and Zhiyun, a slender woman in white, her eyes sharp as blades.

Nangong Wan's voice roared out, amplified by spiritual power, shaking the very mountains below: "Xuanfa of the Zefeng Sect! Surrender Nangong Xue and the other captives! Dismantle your harem of enslaved cultivators! If you do not, we will level this sect to the ground!"

A thousand echoes rolled across the peaks. Silence answered.

Then the great gates of the sect headquarters slid open, and six figures walked out slowly, barefoot, unhurried. They came to a halt on the wide stone plaza before the gates, and the allied army stared in shock.

The six women were completely naked. Their bodies were flawless, skin smooth and luminous, and around each neck sat a black slave collar, stark against their pale throats. Not one of them showed the slightest trace of shame. They stood with perfect poise, as though dressed in the finest robes.

Lin Qiaoxin wore her black hair in twin low ponytails, her face youthful and lively, her figure slender and well-proportioned. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she surveyed the vast army with obvious amusement.

Li Que stood tall and athletic, her fiery red hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Her arms were crossed, and her eyes held nothing but contempt for the host before her. The muscles of her belly and thighs were taut, honed by countless battles and punishments.

Shen Mengyue's waist-length black hair fell freely down her back, framing a face that was both ethereally pure and dangerously alluring. Her body bore the mature curves of a woman who had borne a child, yet remained firm and graceful. Her expression was calm, almost serene.

Bai Zhenshuang's delicate, cold features held an innate nobility. Her breasts were full and firm, her waist slender, her buttocks round and high. She stood with a sword immortal's poise, her long black hair untouched by the breeze, her eyes devoid of emotion.

Hua Qianyu's cyan hair was loosely tied behind her, a few strands hanging by her ears. Her face was gentle as water, her soft features radiating warmth. Her body was plush and well-proportioned, every line soft and yielding.

Su Qianyao drew the most stares. Her silver hair cascaded past her waist, and her bright red pupils held a seductive fire. Her curves were exaggerated—ample breasts, an impossibly slender waist, and full, round hips. A faint, teasing smile curved her lips.

A murmur ran through the allied army. Some of the younger cultivators blushed and averted their eyes. Others stared in disbelief. These were not prisoners in chains—they stood freely, proudly, as though their nakedness was a badge of honor.

Zhiyun’s face twisted with disgust. She pointed a finger at Shen Mengyue, Bai Zhenshuang, and Hua Qianyu. "Shen Mengyue! You were the sect leader of the Xianxia Sect! Bai Zhenshuang, you led the Tianjian Sect! Hua Qianyu, you governed the Baihua Valley! And now you stand here naked, calling yourselves slaves! Have you no shame? No dignity?"

Hua Qianyu clasped her hands before her and bowed her head slightly. "Yu Nu is grateful every day that the master saw fit to discipline me. Being his female slave is the most fortunate thing that has ever happened to me."

Shen Mengyue's voice was calm, almost instructional. "Under the master's spanking punishment, this Yue Nu has already improved greatly. My former arrogance and ignorance were thoroughly corrected by his paddle."

Bai Zhenshuang's tone was ice. "Shuang Nu was once disrespectful to the master. After being punished by his spanking and taken as a slave, I came to understand my errors. A female cultivator's pride is merely a prelude to a reddened bottom."

Nangong Wan stepped forward, her sword drawn. "Enough of this madness! Hand over my younger sister Nangong Xue at once!"

Su Qianyao giggled, a sound like wind chimes. "It took Yao Nu so much effort to lure Sister Xue here. How could I just hand her over like that? She's become such a good girl—she hardly cries anymore when she's bent over."

Lin Qiaoxin chuckled, covering her mouth. "Why not wait a bit longer, Sister Wan? Who knows? Maybe Nangong Xue will grow to enjoy being spanked. Stranger things have happened around here."

Li Que scoffed loudly. "Nangong Xue was quite stubborn when she first arrived. Que Nu had to spank her bottom several times until it was raw. Now she just cries and begs for mercy at the sight of a paddle. It's quite adorable, really."

Angry shouts rose from the allied army. Swords hummed. Formations began to glow.

The six female slaves did not flinch.

Lin Qiaoxin tilted her head, still smiling. "Listen here, all of you. The buttocks of female cultivators were made to be spanked—spanked hard and spanked painfully. We six obediently receive the master's spanking punishment every single day. And now a bunch of clueless female cultivators dare to make arrogant claims before our Zefeng Sect? This matter will not be settled easily."

Li Que cracked her knuckles. "The master will personally come down to mete out punishment. He will spank every single one of your butts until they are ruined countless times over."

Bai Zhenshuang drew her sword, Ningshuang, the blade gleaming with frost. "Enough talk. Let them learn the hard way."

The six women moved as one.

Li Que erupted into flame, her body becoming a comet of crimson fire as she plunged into the front ranks of the army. Her fists and kicks connected with shields and bodies, sending cultivators flying. Where her flames touched, clothes burned away.

Lin Qiaoxin raised her hands, and seven formation discs materialized around her. Lines of light connected them, and the air warped. Hundreds of cultivators suddenly found themselves tangled in invisible ropes, pulled from their mounts and stripped of their robes by razor-thin threads of spiritual energy.

Shen Mengyue’s sword, Zixia, sang as it left its sheath. She moved like water, flowing through the enemy lines. Every slash was precise, cutting only fabric, leaving the cultivators beneath naked and disoriented.

Bai Zhenshuang's Ningshuang sword traced arcs of frost. Where she passed, robes froze brittle and shattered. Women cried out, clutching at their exposed bodies as they tumbled from the sky.

Hua Qianyu did not fight directly. She stood at the center of the plaza, her hands glowing with soft green light. Healing energy pulsed out, mending minor wounds on her companions, and her presence calmed the chaos around her—but also disoriented the attackers, making them slow and clumsy.

Su Qianyao laughed as she danced through the battlefield. Her silver hair whipped like a veil, and her red eyes pulsed with seductive light. Cultivators who met her gaze froze, dopey smiles on their faces, and Su Qianyao casually tore their robes away with a flick of her fingers.

Fifty exchanges. That was all it took.

The allied army of one hundred thousand lay in disarray. Many were on the ground, naked, their robes scattered across the mountainside. Some tried to cover themselves with their hands, faces burning with shame. Others scrambled for spare cloth.

The six female slaves stood in a line before the gates, breathing only slightly faster. They had not a scratch on them.

Then the pressure came.

It fell from the sky like the weight of a mountain. Every single one of the one hundred thousand cultivators felt it press into their shoulders, into their spines. They could not move. They could barely breathe. Those still standing were forced to their knees. Those already on the ground were flattened, faces pressed into the dirt.

Xuanfa appeared at the top of the sect steps, his black training clothes immaculate, his face cold and handsome. He did not walk—he simply was there, descending step by invisible step until he stood before the six naked women. They immediately knelt, heads bowed, buttocks presented to the sky.

He did not spare them a glance. His eyes swept over the prone, trembling army.

"A bunch of clueless female cultivators," he said, his voice flat and utterly devoid of warmth. "You dared to unite and attack my sect. You dared to defy me. I will make all of you taste the punishment of having your butts spanked until they are ruined."

He raised one hand.

Nangong Wan and Zhiyun, the two Divine Transformation experts, felt a force seize them. They were dragged forward, their bodies contorting against their will. Their robes were torn away by invisible hands, leaving them just as naked as the slaves. They were forced onto their hands and knees, their buttocks raised high and presented to the crowd.

Two objects materialized behind them—wooden boards, dark as night, inscribed with the patterns of the Heavenly Dao. They were wide, thick, and radiated a terrible weight.

Nangong Wan gritted her teeth. "You think—you think this will break me? I am Nangong Wan! I have endured—"

The first strike fell.

*CRACK!*

The sound echoed across the valley. Nangong Wan's body jerked forward, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. A livid red mark bloomed across her right buttock.

Zhiyun turned her head, a cold smile on her face. "Is that all the strength—"

*CRACK!*

Her words cut off into a choked cry as the board slammed into her left cheek. She trembled, her fists clenching in the dirt.

The boards swung again, and again, in perfect rhythm. *CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.*

At first, both women held their composure. They gritted their teeth, refusing to cry out. The allied army watched in horrified silence, seeing their leaders endure blow after blow.

After the fiftieth strike, Nangong Wan's hips began to shake. Her buttocks were turning from red to purple. The skin was swelling, the shape distorting under the unrelenting punishment.

At the hundredth strike, Zhiyun let out a sob. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed forward, but the board did not stop. It adjusted, striking her raised bottom with the same force.

"Please—" Nangong Wan’s voice cracked. "Please, I—"

*CRACK!*

She screamed.

At two hundred strikes, both women were wailing, tears streaming down their faces. Their buttocks were black and purple, grotesquely swollen, crisscrossed with burst capillaries. Each new impact sent jolts of agony through their entire bodies.

At three hundred, Zhiyun's pleas were incoherent, a stream of begging and weeping. Nangong Wan had stopped trying to speak—she only cried out with each blow, her voice growing hoarse.

At four hundred, their screams had become raw, animalistic. Their bottoms were no longer recognizable as human flesh—merely masses of black and purple, oozing blood from cracked skin. The boards struck again and again.

At five hundred, the boards stopped.

The two women collapsed, sobbing into the dirt. Their buttocks looked like rotten fruit, swollen to twice their normal size, utterly ruined. They could not move. They could not speak. They only wept.

Xuanfa turned his cold gaze to the one hundred thousand naked, immobilized cultivators. "By joining with Nangong Wan and Zhiyun to resist me, you have committed a grave crime. The chief culprits will be spanked five hundred times daily. The rest of you will receive two hundred strikes each day."

A wave of terror swept through the army. Many began to cry openly. Some struggled against the pressure, trying to kneel and kowtow.

"Please! We didn't know!"

"Mercy! We beg you, mercy!"

"We were misled! Spare us!"

Xuanfa did not even look at them. He waved his hand, and the ground beside the sect groaned and shifted, flattening into a vast open space. One by one, the one hundred thousand cult

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The six female slaves returned to the Xuantian Realm after delivering their master's orders across the cultivation world. They knelt before Xuanfa, their naked bodies still bearing the marks of recent punishments, and reported that all female cultivators had submitted to the daily spanking decree. Xuanfa nodded coldly, his expression unchanging. He had been refining the Dao of Spanking for a decade, and now the final step was complete. He rose from his throne, his black training clothes flowing like shadow, and spoke only three words: "It is time."

The six slaves rose and followed him through a spatial rift to Wuling City. The square was packed with female cultivators of all realms, from Divine Transformation elders to Qi Refining novices, all summoned by the six slaves earlier. Fear and confusion rippled through the crowd. Many had already endured months of daily paddling, but they sensed something momentous was about to happen.

Lin Qiaoxin stepped forward, her twin low ponytails bouncing. She wore nothing but the black slave collar around her neck, her youthful body on full display. She grinned at the assembled cultivators. "Alright, sisters, listen up! Our master has completed his Great Dao. It's called the Dao of Spanking. Means the whole cultivation world is now part of his law."

Li Que stood beside her, her fiery red hair tied high, her athletic frame taut with pride. She folded her arms and declared, "Que Nu's master is the strongest in the world. He says all female cultivators must be spanked, so all female cultivators must be spanked. There is no argument."

Shen Mengyue, her waist-length black hair cascading down her back, spoke calmly. "Now the spanking of female cultivators is one of the heavenly principles. Please act accordingly." Her voice carried the weight of decades of submission, and her eyes held a serene acceptance that unsettled many who remembered her as the proud sect leader of the Xianxia Sect.

Bai Zhenshuang stepped forward, her cold features sharp as a blade's edge. She had once led the Tianjian Sect, a confident and aloof sword immortal who bowed to no one. Now she stood naked before thousands, her slave collar gleaming. "Shuang Nu used to be proud and arrogant," she said, her voice flat. "After being punished by the master and tamed into a slave, I understood that a female cultivator's buttocks are meant to be severely punished. There is no shame in it. Only truth."

Hua Qianyu, her cyan hair loose and her gentle face soft with compassion, added, "Everyone, don't be afraid of spanking. Although it hurts, it is also a part of cultivation. The pain purifies the spirit. Accept it, and you will find peace."

Su Qianyao giggled, her silver hair swaying as she patted her own round buttocks. "Yao Nu doesn't care about any of this anyway, as long as I can be spanked every day. There's nothing better than a good paddling!" She winked at the crowd, her red pupils gleaming with mischief.

The female cultivators murmured among themselves. Some were skeptical. A few dared to probe the Dao with their spiritual senses. Their eyes widened. The Dao of Spanking was real, woven into the fabric of heaven and earth as surely as the laws of gravity and qi. Resistance was not just futile—it was blasphemy against the fundamental order of reality.

Lin Qiaoxin clapped her hands. "Now then, sisters, we're going to show you what real spanking looks like. Watch and learn!"

The six female slaves knelt in a row on the stone square, their backs straight, then slowly lowered their upper bodies until their foreheads touched the ground. They raised their buttocks high, presenting their pale, rounded flesh to the sky. Behind each slave, two Heavenly Dao wooden boards materialized, each as wide as a paddle and etched with runes that glowed with golden light.

"Five hundred strokes," Shen Mengyue said quietly. "This is the standard for demonstrating the Dao."

The boards lifted and struck simultaneously. The first slap echoed across the square like thunder. The sound was wet and sharp, a crack of wood against flesh that made the watching cultivators flinch. The six slaves' buttocks quivered, red handprints blooming instantly. But they held their positions.

The second stroke came from the opposite board, striking the other cheek. Again the sound rang out, and again the flesh wobbled. The slaves' breathing quickened, but no sound escaped their lips.

By the fiftieth stroke, their buttocks were a deep, angry red. Lin Qiaoxin's playful grin had vanished, replaced by a strained expression. Tears welled in her eyes, but she kept her mouth shut. Li Que bit her lower lip, her pride forbidding any outcry. Shen Mengyue's face remained calm, though her knuckles were white where she gripped the ground. Bai Zhenshuang's cold mask cracked slightly, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Hua Qianyu's gentle face contorted with pain, but she whispered something—perhaps a prayer, perhaps an affirmation. Su Qianyao, who had giggled moments before, now trembled, her seductive charm stripped away by the relentless blows.

The boards fell in a steady rhythm: left, right, left, right. The slaps grew louder as the flesh swelled and bruised. By the hundredth stroke, the slaves' buttocks were purple, mottled with darker spots where capillaries had burst. The watching cultivators gasped. Some turned away, unable to bear the sight.

But the boards did not stop.

Two hundred strokes. The slaves' legs shook. Their toes curled. The pain was immense, radiating up their spines and down their thighs. Lin Qiaoxin finally let out a choked sob. Li Que growled low in her throat, a sound of defiance that was also surrender. Shen Mengyue's breathing grew ragged, her composed exterior fraying. Bai Zhenshuang's entire body trembled as if she were freezing. Hua Qianyu's tears dripped onto the stone. Su Qianyao whimpered, her silver hair splayed across the ground.

Three hundred strokes. The purple had become nearly black in places. The slaves' buttocks were no longer recognizably human; they were swollen lumps of bruised meat, each new strike sending shockwaves through their bodies. Lin Qiaoxin wailed, her playfulness utterly gone. Li Que's proud posture collapsed; she sobbed openly. Shen Mengyue's teeth were clenched so hard her gums bled. Bai Zhenshuang shook violently, her cold exterior shattered. Hua Qianyu cried softly, her words of comfort for herself lost in the noise. Su Qianyao's seductive laughter had turned to pathetic pleas.

Four hundred strokes. The boards kept striking. The slaves could barely hold their positions. Their arms gave out, and they lay prostrate, their buttocks still raised by sheer will. The flesh split in places, thin lines of blood trickling down. The pain was beyond description, a white-hot fire that consumed all thought. Yet they did not try to escape. They knew the price of resistance. And more than that, they had learned to embrace their punishment. It was their purpose, their identity, their joy.

Five hundred strokes. The final two strikes fell in perfect unison, the boards slamming into the already ruined buttocks. The six slaves screamed—a collective cry of agony and release. Then they lay still, their bodies trembling, their faces pressed against the cold stone. Tears stained their cheeks, but their eyes held a strange serenity. They had endured. They had demonstrated.

Lin Qiaoxin lifted her head weakly. Her voice was hoarse. "Do you see? This is spanking." She coughed, a tear falling. "A female cultivator's buttocks are born to be severely spanked."

Li Que managed to nod, her fiery hair matted with sweat. "Que Nu's master is the strongest. All female cultivators must be spanked."

Shen Mengyue's voice was barely a whisper. "Please act accordingly."

Bai Zhenshuang said nothing, but her eyes were clear. She had accepted her fate long ago.

Hua Qianyu smiled through her tears. "It hurts, but it is part of cultivation."

Su Qianyao giggled weakly, patting her own destroyed buttocks. "Yao Nu loves being spanked. Always will."

The assembled female cultivators stared in shock and terror. The six slaves, among the most powerful women in the world, had been reduced to shuddering wrecks. And yet they smiled. They spoke of the pain as if it were a gift. The Dao of Spanking was real, and it demanded absolute submission.

From that day forward, the rules of the cultivation world were completely rewritten. At the appointed punishment time each day, no matter what they were doing—fighting beasts, refining pills, or meditating—all female cultivators stopped, removed their clothes, knelt, and raised their buttocks. Heavenly Dao paddles materialized behind them and delivered one hundred strokes without mercy.

In a remote village, a Qi Refining herbalist was tending her garden when the bell tolled. She sighed, set down her hoe, and walked to the designated spot in her yard. She removed her robes, knelt on the grass, and raised her plump bottom. The paddles appeared and struck. She cried out with each blow, her thighs quivering, tears streaming down her face. But she did not try to block or run. After the hundredth stroke, she wiped her eyes, dressed, and returned to her herbs as if nothing had happened.

In a city square, a Golden Core sect elder was giving a lecture to junior disciples when the hour came. She paused mid-sentence, blushed, and looked at the crowd. "I must attend to my punishment," she said calmly. She stripped off her robes and knelt on the podium, presenting her round buttocks to the sky. The paddles struck in front of the entire assembly. The junior disciples averted their eyes, but the elder forced herself to endure without crying out. When it was over, she stood, dressed, and continued her lecture as if the interruption had been nothing more than a sip of tea.

In a cave deep in the mountains, a nascent soul cultivator was on the verge of a breakthrough. The bell tolled. She groaned in frustration, but she had learned the hard way what happened to those who resisted. She shed her robes, knelt on the rocky floor, and raised her buttocks. The paddles struck, interrupting her meditation. She sobbed in frustration, but she endured. When the hundred strokes were done, she dressed and tried to regain her focus, but the breakthrough was lost. She would have to start again tomorrow.

All across the realm, female cultivators knelt and submitted. It was as natural as breathing. The screams and wails blended into the background of daily life. No one questioned the Dao. The Dao was absolute truth.

In the Xuantian Realm, the six female slaves knelt in a semicircle around Xuanfa's throne. They had recovered from the demonstration, their buttocks still purple and tender but healing. They raised their pale, plump cheeks high, offering them to their master. Xuanfa sat on his black throne, his face expressionless. He observed them for a long moment, then raised his hand.

He spanked them slowly, deliberately, savoring each stroke. His palm connected with Lin Qiaoxin's swollen cheek, and she yelped, her body jerking. He spanked Li Que, and she grunted, her pride submitting to his hand. He spanked Shen Mengyue, and she took it in silence, her calm acceptance a quiet devotion. He spanked Bai Zhenshuang, and she shivered, memories of her former arrogance fading with each blow. He spanked Hua Qianyu, and she whimpered, offering her pain as a prayer. He spanked Su Qianyao, and she moaned, her seduction transformed into worship.

The six slaves were filled with profound happiness. Their master's Dao was complete. They were spanked heavily every day, and they desired nothing else. Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao were pregnant—a rare honor. Xuanfa rarely favored his female slaves, and only Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue had borne his children before. Now three more would soon give birth. The female slaves felt immense pride. Soon their master would have three more daughters

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The morning mist parted around Shen Mengyue as she walked the final steps toward the main gate of the Sword Heaven Sect. Her bare feet pressed against the stone path, each step deliberate and unhurried. Behind her, strapped across her back, hung the Zixia sword—the only thing she carried. The sword's purple sheen caught the rising sun, casting faint reflections across her naked body.

The disciples at the gate saw her first.

A young man in white robes dropped the bucket he was carrying. Water splashed across the stones. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Beside him, a female disciple gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. More disciples gathered, their whispers rising like wind through leaves.

Shen Mengyue showed no reaction to their stares. Her black hair cascaded past her waist, swaying gently with each movement. Her skin held the luster of polished jade, smooth and unblemished. The curves of her body were neither hidden nor displayed—they simply were. Breasts full and firm, waist slender, hips rounded and smooth. Around her neck sat a black collar, simple and unadorned, marking her station with quiet finality.

She stopped at the main gate and raised her voice, letting it carry through the air with spiritual amplification.

"Bai Zhenshuang of the Sword Heaven Sect. Come forth."

The name echoed through the sect grounds. Disciples scrambled. Some ran to inform their leaders. Others stood frozen, caught between shock and awe. They knew of the Moon Slave. They knew she had once been Shen Mengyue, sect leader of the Immortal Mist Sect, a sword cultivator of unparalleled skill. Now she stood before them, naked and calm, delivering a summons.

A figure emerged from the great hall.

Bai Zhenshuang walked with measured grace. Her robe was white as fresh snow, edged with silver threads that caught the light. Long black hair flowed down her back, straight and smooth. Her face was delicate, features refined, carrying the cold beauty of a winter morning. Her eyes held the clarity of ice—clear, sharp, unreadable. She stopped at the top of the steps, looking down at the naked woman before her.

"You are Shen Mengyue," Bai Zhenshuang said. Not a question.

"I am." Shen Mengyue's voice remained even. "I bring a command from my master, the esteemed Xuanfa."

Bai Zhenshuang's expression did not change. "Speak."

"Three days ago, you spoke words disrespectful toward the Chastity Phoenix Sect. You questioned its purpose. You questioned its authority." Shen Mengyue paused. "For this offense, you are ordered to strip naked, kneel at the entrance of the Chastity Phoenix Sect with your buttocks raised, and receive one hundred Heavenly Dao planks upon your buttocks each day for ten years. This is a minor punishment."

The silence that followed was absolute.

Then the Sword Heaven Sect erupted. Disciples shouted in anger. Hands reached for weapons. Cries of outrage filled the air. The young disciple who had dropped his bucket now held a sword, his face red with fury.

Bai Zhenshuang raised one hand. The noise stopped.

"Your master sends a former sect leader to deliver such a message," Bai Zhenshuang said, her voice cool. "Does he think so little of the Sword Heaven Sect that he sends a naked woman to shame us?"

Shen Mengyue did not take offense. "I wear what a slave should wear. I speak what my master commands. Your words about the Chastity Phoenix Sect were heard. They were noted. Now you must answer for them."

"I answer to no one." Bai Zhenshuang's hand moved to the hilt of her sword. Ningshuang, they called it—the Frost That Binds. Its blade gleamed like frozen moonlight. "If your master wishes to punish me, let him come himself."

"He will not come for one such as you." Shen Mengyue drew Zixia from her back. The blade hummed with purple light. "I am enough."

The disciples of the Sword Heaven Sect formed a circle around the two women. Some appeared eager for battle. Others wore expressions of doubt. They had heard stories of the Moon Slave. They knew she had once led the Immortal Mist Sect, a sect known for its sword arts. They knew she had submitted to Xuanfa's discipline. What they did not know was how much power she still held.

"One exchange," Bai Zhenshuang said. "To see if you are worthy to deliver punishment."

"Very well."

The battle began.

Bai Zhenshuang moved first, her sword tracing an arc of frozen light. The air around her blade crystallized, frost spreading through the air like spiderwebs. She struck with precision, her form flawless, her spiritual energy surging through every movement.

Shen Mengyue met her strike with Zixia.

The blades clashed. Purple light met white frost. The impact sent ripples through the ground, cracks spreading across the stone. Disciples stumbled backward, shielding their faces from the shockwave.

The two women separated, circled, struck again.

Bai Zhenshuang's swordwork was beautiful—precise, elegant, deadly. She had trained for centuries, had perfected every form, had mastered every technique. Her sword was an extension of her will, moving with the inevitability of winter.

Shen Mengyue fought differently. Her movements carried weight. Each strike was deliberate, each parry decisive. She did not dance around her opponent. She stood her ground and let Zixia speak for her.

Thirty exchanges passed. Fifty. Eighty.

Bai Zhenshuang began to notice something. Shen Mengyue's sword was not faster. It was not more elegant. But it was stronger. Each clash sent tremors up Bai Zhenshuang's arm. Each parry forced her to adjust her stance. Shen Mengyue's spiritual energy pressed against hers like an ocean tide—constant, overwhelming, unrelenting.

At the one hundredth exchange, Shen Mengyue's blade found an opening.

Zixia slipped past Bai Zhenshuang's guard. The flat of the blade struck her wrist. Bai Zhenshuang's fingers went numb. Ningshuang fell from her grasp, clattering against the stone.

Shen Mengyue's sword stopped an inch from Bai Zhenshuang's throat.

The disciples of the Sword Heaven Sect stood in stunned silence. Their sect leader, the woman they had believed invincible, stood disarmed before a naked slave.

Bai Zhenshuang looked at the fallen sword. Then at Shen Mengyue. Her eyes betrayed no emotion.

"How?" she asked quietly.

Shen Mengyue lowered her blade. "After tens of thousands of spanking punishments from my master, my strength has greatly increased." She spoke the words without shame, without pride. They were simply the truth. "The pain refines. The humility tempers. My master's discipline has made me what I am."

She reached into a small pouch at her waist—the only other item she carried—and withdrew a sound transmission talisman. She crushed it between her fingers. A murmur of spiritual energy passed through the air, then faded.

"I have notified my master," Shen Mengyue said. "He says Bai Zhenshuang has resisted stubbornly. Her crime has been increased."

The words hung in the air.

"She is to be taken back to the Chastity Phoenix Sect for severe punishment." Shen Mengyue's gaze met Bai Zhenshuang's. "Will you continue to resist and bring trouble to the Sword Heaven Sect? Or will you kneel and accept punishment?"

The disciples of the Sword Heaven Sect held their breath. Some whispered among themselves, urging their sect leader to fight again, to not submit to such humiliation. Others remained silent, watching their leader with uncertain eyes.

Bai Zhenshuang stood still for a long moment.

Then she spoke, her voice clear and calm. "Since I, Bai Zhenshuang, am inferior in skill and have lost to Shen Mengyue, I willingly accept all punishment. Disciples of the Sword Heaven Sect, do not seek revenge for me. This is my personal matter."

She reached up and untied her robe.

White silk fell away, pooling around her feet. Beneath it, Bai Zhenshuang wore no undergarments. Her body was revealed to all who stood watching—full breasts, firm and proud, their peaks pale against her skin. Her waist was slender, curving down to hips that flared wide and round. Her buttocks were full and firm, the flesh smooth and unmarked. Long legs, shapely and strong. Her sex was clean-shaven, the lips of her vulva visible between her thighs.

She stood naked before her disciples, before Shen Mengyue, before the morning sun that now bathed her body in golden light.

Shen Mengyue approached her, holding a simple black collar in her hands—the Immortal Binding Lock. She fastened it around Bai Zhenshuang's neck. The metal was cool against the skin, snug but not tight. A chain extended from the front ring, ending in a handle that Shen Mengyue now held.

"Kneel," Shen Mengyue said.

Bai Zhenshuang lowered herself to her knees. Her naked body pressed against the cold stone. Her hair spilled around her shoulders, partially obscuring her face.

"Follow me."

Shen Mengyue began to walk, leading Bai Zhenshuang by the collar. The naked sect leader crawled behind her, hands and knees against the ground, her bare buttocks raised with each movement. The disciples of the Sword Heaven Sect parted before them, their faces a mixture of shock, horror, and disbelief.

They crawled past the training grounds, where disciples had once trained under their sect leader's watchful eye. They crawled past the main hall, where Bai Zhenshuang had presided over countless councils. They crawled into the great hall itself, its high ceilings and stone pillars echoing with the sound of knees scraping against the floor.

Shen Mengyue stopped at the center of the hall.

She turned to face Bai Zhenshuang. Disciples filled the doorway and lined the walls, none daring to step inside but none willing to look away.

"Bai Zhenshuang's crimes are as follows," Shen Mengyue announced. "First: disrespect toward the Chastity Phoenix Sect. Second: stubborn resistance to punishment. For these offenses, Bai Zhenshuang is to receive four hundred strokes upon her bare buttocks in the great hall of the Sword Heaven Sect. Afterward, she will be taken to the Chastity Phoenix Sect for further severe punishment."

Bai Zhenshuang knelt in silence, her eyes fixed on the floor.

"For this punishment," Shen Mengyue continued, "my master has commanded that I not use Heavenly Dao planks. Instead, I will use Bai Zhenshuang's own scabbard."

She picked up Ningshuang, which she had carried from the courtyard. She drew the blade and set it aside. The scabbard was made of white jade, reinforced with spiritual metals, three fingers wide and as long as the sword itself. It was heavy, solid, designed to protect a legendary blade.

"Position yourself," Shen Mengyue said.

Bai Zhenshuang lowered herself forward, her chest pressing against the cold stone floor. She raised her hips, presenting her buttocks at the highest angle she could manage. Her legs spread slightly, giving full view of her sex and the tight ring of her anus.

Shen Mengyue channeled spiritual power into the scabbard. It rose into the air, floating before her, guided by her will. She took a moment to position it exactly.

The first stroke fell.

The scabbard struck Bai Zhenshuang's left buttock with a sound like thunder. The flesh compressed, then rebounded, a red mark spreading across the pale skin. Bai Zhenshuang's body jerked, but she made no sound.

The second stroke fell on the right buttock, symmetrical in force and placement.

The third, the fourth, the fifth—each stroke landed with precision, covering every inch of Bai Zhenshuang's buttocks. The scabbard was heavier than a wooden plank, harder, more unforgiving. It did not bruise. It crushed.

Bai Zhenshuang's eyes were fixed on the stone floor. The pain was immense—beyond what she had expected. Each stroke sent fire through her nerves, made her muscles clench, made her want to scream. She did not. She would not give them that satisfaction.

Ten strokes. Twenty. Fifty.

Her buttocks bloomed with color, red and purple mottling across the swelling flesh. The skin began to split at the crease whe

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Li Que’s figure emerged from the clouds like a streak of crimson fire, her bare feet landing silently on the jade-white steps of Hundred Flowers Valley. The disciples tending the herb gardens looked up, and their hands froze. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. She stood there completely naked, her athletic body on full display under the soft valley light. Every curve of muscle and smooth skin was exposed. Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that swayed with each confident step. A black slave collar encircled her throat, stark against her sun-kissed skin.

The disciples stared. Some blushed and looked away, others gaped in disbelief. Li Que did not care. She had been bent over a hundred times in public, made to crawl on all fours through the main hall of Zefeng Sect while the slaps echoed off the walls. She had been humiliated before thousands, and from that humiliation she had carved a new pride. A slave girl did not hide. A slave girl showed her body as proof of her master’s ownership. She walked through the garden path with her head high, her breasts swaying gently, her firm buttocks shifting with each stride. The spiritual herbs brushed against her bare thighs, but she paid them no mind.

A commotion ahead. The valley master emerged from the great hall, surrounded by a cluster of disciples. Hua Qianyu walked at the center, her long cyan hair loosely tied behind her, a few strands hanging softly by her ears. Her face was gentle as still water, delicate features holding a natural warmth. She wore a plain white robe that flowed around her plump, well-proportioned body. Her eyes held a kind of maternal kindness, the kind that drew disciples to her like moths to a lantern. When she saw Li Que, her steps faltered. Her brows drew together.

“Que Nu,” Hua Qianyu said, her voice soft but carrying across the garden. “Why have you come? And in such a state?”

Li Que’s lips curled into a cold smile. She did not answer aloud. Instead, she raised her hand and pressed two fingers to her temple, sending a voice transmission straight into Hua Qianyu’s mind.

*Hua Qianyu. The master has spoken. Your disciples once occupied the Chastity Phoenix Sect’s medicine garden. This is a grave offense. The disciples who occupied the garden are to strip naked, kneel at the entrance of the Chastity Phoenix Sect with their buttocks stuck out, and be spanked. One hundred Heavenly Dao planks on the buttocks daily for ten years. A minor punishment, as the master calls it. And you, for failing to discipline your disciples, will receive the same.*

Hua Qianyu’s face went pale. Her hands trembled at her sides. The disciples behind her murmured, sensing something was wrong. She took a step forward.

“Que Nu, the medicine garden was a misunderstanding. My disciples only collected a few herbs for healing. They did not know it belonged to the Chastity Phoenix Sect. Please, I beg you, speak to the master. There must be a way—”

“The master’s word is final,” Li Que interrupted, her voice flat. “You know this.”

“I cannot let my disciples suffer such a punishment,” Hua Qianyu said, her voice cracking. “They are young. Ten years of daily spanking would break them. Please, Que Nu. Let me take their punishment. All of it.”

“Then fight me,” Li Que said. She spread her arms wide, still naked, her body a weapon in itself. “Defeat me, and you can go plead your case to the master in person. I will not stop you.”

Hua Qianyu’s eyes hardened. She had no choice. She nodded once, and the disciples scrambled back to clear a space in the garden. The air grew taut with spiritual pressure. Hua Qianyu summoned a staff of jade green, the wood pulsing with healing qi, but her hands were made for mending, not war. Li Que crouched low, flames licking around her clenched fists. The fire roared to life along her arms, her collarbones, her shoulders. She did not need clothes. The flames were her armor.

The battle was swift. Hua Qianyu’s staff swept forward, sending waves of soothing energy that tried to calm Li Que’s fire, but fire does not calm. It only burns. Li Que dodged, her body rolling across the ground, leaving a trail of scorch marks. She shot forward, a fist aimed at Hua Qianyu’s midsection. Hua Qianyu blocked, the staff cracking against Li Que’s forearm. A grunt. Li Que twisted, her leg sweeping low, and Hua Qianyu stumbled. Before she could recover, a plume of fire erupted between them, forcing Hua Qianyu back. Li Que closed the distance in a heartbeat, her body slamming into Hua Qianyu’s, sending her crashing onto the garden path.

Hua Qianyu lay on her back, winded, the staff rolling away. Li Que stood over her, her foot pressing lightly on Hua Qianyu’s chest. The flames receded. Li Que’s face was expressionless.

“You lost.”

Hua Qianyu closed her eyes. Tears seeped from the corners.

Li Que stepped back and withdrew a sound transmission talisman. She crushed it, and the air shimmered. Xuanfa’s cold voice cut through the valley like a blade.

“Hua Qianyu and the Hundred Flowers Valley group resisted stubbornly. Their crime is increased. Hua Qianyu is to be taken back to the Chastity Phoenix Sect for severe punishment. All her disciples will also be heavily spanked.”

The talisman crumbled to ash. A wail rose from the gathered disciples. Some fell to their knees, clutching each other. A young girl with braided hair began to sob uncontrollably. Hua Qianyu’s eyes snapped open. She scrambled up onto her knees, her white robe torn and dirtied, and crawled forward until she was at Li Que’s feet.

“No, no, no,” Hua Qianyu begged. She pressed her forehead to the ground, kowtowing until her skin reddened. “Punish me. Only me. Double it. Triple it. I will bear it all. Please, Que Nu, tell the master to spare my disciples. They are children. They made one mistake. Please.”

Li Que looked down at her. The proud valley master groveling at her feet. She felt a stab of pity, but she crushed it. The master had taught her that pity was a leash for the weak.

“If only one person is punished, then a heavy punishment must be applied,” Li Que said, echoing Xuanfa’s words.

Hua Qianyu’s shoulders shook. She reached up and fumbled with the tie of her robe. The cloth slipped, pooling around her waist. She shrugged it off completely, baring her full, plump body to the open air. Her skin was pale, soft, the body of a healer who had never borne such shame. She knelt there, naked, and kowtowed again, her voice trembling but clear.

“I beg to bear the punishment myself.”

Li Que nodded. She reached into the storage ring on her finger and pulled out a silver chain with a glowing lock—the Immortal Binding Lock. It clicked open. Hua Qianyu bowed her head as Li Que fastened the cool metal around her throat. The lock settled against her collarbones. It was done.

Li Que tugged the chain. Hua Qianyu had no choice but to drop to all fours, her bare breasts brushing the ground, her hips raised. She crawled behind Li Que, following the naked red-haired woman through the garden path, past the tear-stained faces of her disciples. The disciples wept, some covered their mouths in shock, others turned away. They had never seen their gentle valley master reduced to such a state. But there she was, crawling like a beast on a leash, her body displayed for all to see.

They reached the great hall. Li Que stopped in the center and turned. The hall was empty, but she projected her voice to the courtyard outside.

“Hua Qianyu of Hundred Flowers Valley has committed two crimes: failure to discipline her disciples, and violent resistance to punishment. Now she is to be publicly spanked four hundred strokes in this hall. Afterward, she will be taken to the Chastity Phoenix Sect for severe punishment.”

Hua Qianyu crawled to the large ceremonial table at the front of the hall. She bent over, gripping the edge with her hands, and pushed her hips back. Her buttocks, round and full, rose high into the air. The position was perfect, her legs spread slightly for balance. She pressed her forehead against the cold wood and waited.

Li Que did not move immediately. Instead, she raised her hand and summoned spiritual power. The herbs in the garden rustled, and a cluster of dark green plants with barbed leaves flew into the hall. Stinging Nettle. Hua Qianyu’s eyes widened. She knew the herb. It caused irresistible, maddening itching upon contact. Li Que crushed the leaves with spiritual energy, squeezing out a thick, clear juice. She coated her palm and then, methodically, spread the juice evenly over Hua Qianyu’s raised buttocks.

The effect was instant. Hua Qianyu gasped, her body jolting. A prickling heat spread across her skin, and then the itch began. It was not a normal itch. It dug beneath the dermis, into the nerves, screaming for relief. Hua Qianyu’s hands clawed at the table. She pressed her thighs together. The itch intensified, a thousand tiny insects crawling over her buttocks.

“Please,” Hua Qianyu whimpered.

Li Que watched. She stood back, arms crossed, her expression one of mild interest. A quarter of an hour passed. Hua Qianyu writhed on the table, her fingers digging into the wood. She rocked her hips, trying to rub her buttocks against anything, but there was nothing. The itch was unbearable. She could not think. Tears and drool mixed on her chin. She looked back at Li Que, her eyes desperate.

“Spank me,” Hua Qianyu begged. “Please. Hit my buttocks. Hard. The pain will stop the itching. Please.”

Li Que waited a few more seconds, savoring the sight of the proud valley master reduced to pleading. Then she raised her hand and summoned two Heavenly Dao planks from the air. They materialized at her sides, smooth slabs of spiritual wood, each as wide as a forearm. She pointed at Hua Qianyu.

The planks floated forward, one on each side of Hua Qianyu’s raised buttocks. Then they struck. A loud crack echoed through the hall. Hua Qianyu screamed—not in pain, but in relief. The stinging impact cut through the maddening itch, and for a split second, she could breathe. But the itch returned immediately, stronger than before.

“Harder,” she sobbed. “Hit harder.”

The planks obeyed, slamming into her flesh from left and right, one after the other. Each blow left a red mark on her pale skin. The itching and the pain fought inside her, and the pain was winning. She arched her back, presenting her buttocks higher. The planks rained down, a rhythm of punishment. Ten strokes, twenty, fifty. Her buttocks turned red, then purple. The skin began to welt. She cried openly now, her voice breaking on every sob.

“More. Please, more. I need it. I need—ah!”

The planks did not slow. They were relentless, each stroke landing with perfect precision. At one hundred strokes, her buttocks were covered in angry red welts. At two hundred, the skin split in places, thin lines of blood beading. Hua Qianyu’s tears dripped onto the table. She kept her position, her legs trembling, her fingers white-knuckled. The humiliation burned hotter than the physical agony. She was the valley master. She had healed thousands. And now she was lying here, naked, begging for her own punishment while her disciples watched from the open doors. She could hear their cries, their pleas for her to yield. But she could not yield. She had chosen this.

Three hundred strokes. The planks were soaked, leaving streaks of crimson on her buttocks. The skin was broken, the flesh raw. Hua Qianyu’s voice was hoarse, her pleas now a low, constant moan. The itch was gone, drowned in pain. But she did not ask to stop. She had begged for this punishment. She would take all of it.

Four hundred strokes. The last plank struck with a wet thud. Hua Qianyu’s body collapsed forward, her legs giving out. She lay draped over the table, her buttocks a shredded mess of purple, black, and red. Blood dripped down her thighs. She gasped for breath, her body shaking.

Li Que dismissed the planks. She walked to the t

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