Punishment of the Xuanfa Heavenly Sovereign Part 2

The morning sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone paths of the Zephuang Sect as Xuanfa strode through the main thoroughfare, three golden leashes held loosely in his right hand. Behind him, crawling on hands and knees, came Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue—naked save for the black slave collars gleaming around their necks, their bodies bearing the marks of countless punishments past.

Disciples of the sect stopped and bowed as they passed, their own naked forms trembling with a mixture of fear and reverence. The three crawling figures were legends in the cultivation world, figures of terror and awe. Heart Slave, Sparrow Slave, Moon Slave—names that made even Nascent Soul elders tremble. Yet here they moved with perfect submission, their breasts swaying, their buttocks rising and falling with each crawling step, utterly surrendered to the man who held their leashes.

Xuanfa stopped at the central plaza before the main hall, turning to face his three slaves. "You three have broken through to late Divinity Transformation, have you not?"

Lin Qiaoxin lifted her head, a playful smile crossing her youthful face despite her position. "Thanks to our master's severe spanking of our buttocks and the spiritual energy of the Xuantian Realm, we were able to break through to late Divinity Transformation in three hundred years." She kowtowed, her twin tails brushing the ground.

Li Que followed, her proud voice now humbled. "Every stroke of the board on my bottom refined my cultivation. I am grateful for Master's discipline."

Shen Mengyue pressed her forehead to the stone. "Moon Slave is forever indebted to Master's punishment. Without the daily spankings, I would still be mired in the late Soul Formation stage."

Xuanfa's cold eyes swept over them. Three hundred years ago, these women had been proud sect leaders and geniuses. Now they were his most loyal possessions, their wills broken and reforged into perfect obedience.

"Now that you have reached late Divinity Transformation, I have a task for you three." He released the leashes and produced three golden Immortal Binding Locks from his storage ring. "Bai Zhenshuang, the sect master of the Heavenly Sword Sect, has been disrespectful to my Zephuang Sect in her words. Hua Qianyu, the valley master of the Hundred Flowers Valley, once had her disciples occupy our sect's herb garden. Su Qianyao, the saintess of the Demon Race, used her seduction technique to bewitch the minds of our Zephuang Sect disciples."

His voice turned cold as winter frost. "You three will go inform Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao that they must voluntarily strip naked, kneel at the mountain entrance of the Zephuang Sect, lift their buttocks, and submit to spanking. One hundred strokes of the Heaven's Way wooden board on the buttocks daily for ten years will be a minor punishment. If they resist, defeat them and use the Immortal Binding Lock to bring them back tied up."

The three slaves accepted the golden locks with both hands, their faces showing no hesitation.

Lin Qiaoxin's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Master, now that we've broken through to late Divinity Transformation, we were wondering... could we request an increase in the daily spanking count? Four hundred times per day would be most satisfying."

Li Que nodded, her red high ponytail swaying. "The Sparrow Slave finds her bottom itches for more punishment these days. A higher count would help settle the restlessness."

Shen Mengyue's cheeks flushed slightly. "Moon Slave concurs. The pleasure of the board has become... addictive."

Xuanfa's lips twitched—the closest thing to a smile he ever showed. "So you've come to love the feeling of being spanked, have you?"

All three bowed deeply. "Yes, Master."

"Once this mission is completed, I will increase your punishment." He gestured toward the training ground behind the main hall. "But first, finish today's punishment."

He raised his hand and summoned three figures from the Xuantian Realm. Lin Yuxin, Li Yunling, and Shen Xingmian appeared, their naked bodies youthful and firm, black slave collars around their necks. They looked about eighteen years old, bearing an eighty percent resemblance to their mothers—Lin Qiaoxin's twin tails and playful eyes, Li Que's athletic build and proud bearing, Shen Mengyue's ethereal beauty and gentle features.

The three young women knelt before Xuanfa in perfect synchronization. "Greetings, Master."

Xuanfa chuckled darkly. "Your mothers' buttocks are itchy. Now take the Heaven's Way wooden boards and spank their bottoms—two hundred strokes each. Afterward, make them spread their legs and whip their under-crotch slits one hundred strokes each."

The three daughters obeyed without the slightest hesitation. Lin Yuxin retrieved three Heaven's Way wooden boards from the storage rack, their dark wood gleaming with an ominous sheen. Each board was two feet long, four inches wide, and an inch thick, inscribed with formation patterns that made every strike resonate with spiritual force.

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue immediately assumed position—kneeling, faces to the ground, buttocks raised high in the air. Their bare bottoms presented an inviting target, still bearing faint red marks from the previous day's punishment.

Lin Qiaoxin twisted her head back to look at her daughter. "Yuxin, make sure you hit the same spot repeatedly. The pain concentrates better that way. And don't hold back—I want to feel every stroke deep in my bones."

Lin Yuxin giggled, her youthful voice carrying a hint of mischief inherited from her mother. "Don't worry, Mother. I know exactly how to make your bottom sing." She positioned the board and swung it with practiced precision.

*THWACK!*

The sound echoed across the training ground. Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks jiggled from the impact, a red mark blooming across her left cheek. She let out a soft moan that was equal parts pain and pleasure.

"Excellent," she breathed. "Again."

Li Que watched her daughter Li Yunling approach with the board. "Sparrow Slave expects precision, Yunling. Cover every inch of my buttocks—the cheeks, the crease where they meet my thighs, the undercurve. Leave no part unpunished."

Li Yunling's calm eyes studied her mother's presented bottom. "I will ensure thorough coverage, Mother. Your bottom will know no mercy today." She swung, the board landing flat across the lower curve of Li Que's right cheek with a crisp crack.

Li Que grunted, her muscles tensing and then relaxing. "Good. Harder next time."

Shen Mengyue's voice was soft as she addressed her daughter Shen Xingmian. "Moon Slave asks that you beat my bottom until it is raw and purple. It pleases your father to see us well-punished. And when you whip the under-crotch, ensure that both my yoni and my back passage feel the lash equally."

Shen Xingmian's gentle face showed no emotion beyond obedience. "Yes, Mother. I will serve Father's will perfectly." She raised the board and brought it down with devastating force.

*THWACK!*

The three mothers endured their two hundred strokes with growing pleasure. Their buttocks transformed from pale to pink to angry red to purple-black, the skin swelling with each impact. By the end, their bottoms looked like bruised fruit, gleaming with sweat and the residue of spiritual energy released from the punishment.

"Now the whips," Xuanfa commanded, handing each daughter a leather whip with a split tip.

The three young women took the whips. The mothers obediently spread their legs wider, exposing their intimate parts to the sun and to the lash.

Lin Qiaoxin looked back at her daughter with a grin. "Start with the outer lips, Yuxin. Then the inner. Then the entrance itself. Make sure my slit remembers who it belongs to."

Lin Yuxin cracked the whip experimentally. "I've been practicing, Mother. I think you'll find the rhythm quite satisfying." She lashed the whip across her mother's vulva, the split tip catching both outer lips in a stinging embrace.

Lin Qiaoxin gasped, her body shuddering. "Yesss... again."

Li Yunling positioned herself between her mother's spread thighs. "Sparrow Slave, I will whip ten strokes on your yoni, then ten on your anus, alternating until one hundred is complete."

Li Que nodded, her breathing already heavy. "Do it. Make sure each stroke lands with purpose."

The whip cracked against her most sensitive flesh, and Li Que's proud body jerked, but she made no sound of complaint. Only a low growl of satisfaction.

Shen Mengyue faced her daughter with gentle eyes. "Moon Slave trusts Xingmian to do as Father commands. Beat my womanhood until it is raw and red. Let every cultivator who sees me know that I am well-disciplined."

Shen Xingmian's first stroke painted a red line across her mother's vulva. Shen Mengyue's breath caught, her fingers curling into fists. "Beautiful," she whispered. "Continue."

After one hundred strokes, all three mothers lay panting, their genital areas beaten red and swollen, their buttocks a map of purple bruises. Yet their vaginas glistened with moisture, undeniable evidence of the twisted pleasure they derived from punishment.

Xuanfa nodded approvingly. "Now it is time for you three to receive your punishment."

Lin Yuxin, Li Yunling, and Shen Xingmian immediately knelt, presenting their own youthful buttocks to the air. Their bottoms were unmarked, pale and perfect, the skin smooth and unblemished.

"Since you are still in the Golden Core realm," Xuanfa said, "you will not use Heaven's Way boards. The second-level Mystic wooden boards, one hundred strokes each."

He waved his hand, and six Mystic wooden boards appeared—three pairs. They floated in the air, moving with supernatural precision as they positioned themselves behind each kneeling daughter.

Lin Qiaoxin crawled over to where her daughter knelt. "Yuxin, listen well. A female slave must accept all punishment and humiliation from the Master and take pride in it. The pain of the board is the Master's attention. The marks on your bottom are his signature. Wear them with honor."

Lin Yuxin smiled despite her nervousness. "I understand, Mother. I will take every stroke as a gift from Father."

Li Que approached Li Yunling, her voice low and serious. "Sparrow Slave has taught you that submission is strength. To yield completely is to conquer yourself. When the board falls, do not fight it. Welcome it. Let it reshape you into something more perfect for your Master."

Li Yunling's calm eyes met her mother's. "I have never forgotten, Mother. I exist to serve Father's will."

Shen Mengyue kissed Shen Xingmian's forehead. "Moon Slave's daughter, you are the fruit of Master's discipline. Let these strokes remind you of your purpose: to bring pleasure to your Father through your suffering, to cultivate faster through the spanking, and to be a vessel for his power."

Shen Xingmian's gentle voice held only devotion. "Thank you, Mother. I will make Father proud."

The Mystic wooden boards descended.

*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*

The pairs worked in perfect alternation, each board striking with precise timing—left cheek, right cheek, upper curve, lower curve. The six boards created a rhythmic symphony of punishment that echoed across the training ground.

Lin Yuxin whimpered after the first ten strokes, her buttocks already turning pink. "It stings so wonderfully, Father!"

Li Yunling grunted with each impact, her hands gripping her thighs. "Thank you, Master, for this discipline."

Shen Xingmian's eyes welled with tears, but her voice remained steady. "Moon Slave's daughter accepts this punishment with gratitude."

After fifty strokes, their bottoms were bright red and beginning to swell. The boards continued their relentless rhythm, not pausing for breath or mercy.

Lin Qiaoxin watched with a proud smile. "Remember, Yuxin! Count each stroke as a gift! Every mark is a blessing!"

"I'm counting, Mother! Sixty-seven! Sixty-eight! This gift is exquisite!"

Li Que n

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the mountain pass as the demon race personal guard crested the ridge. Over sixty warriors marched in perfect formation, their armor gleaming with protective enchantments, weapons humming with stored power. At their head strode Azi, a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator whose red eyes scanned the pass with barely contained fury.

They had tracked their Holy Maiden's spiritual signature here, to this cursed mountain sect that called itself the Chastising Phoenix Sect. What they found stopped them dead in their tracks.

Su Qianyao knelt at the mountain pass, her silver hair cascading down her back, her hands bound behind her with chains that gleamed black in the morning light. She was completely naked, her voluptuous body on full display, her bottom lifted high in the air. Behind her stood a figure in black training clothes, his face cold and handsome, one hand rising and falling with mechanical precision.

Each slap echoed across the mountain pass like thunder.

"Lord Xuanfa," Su Qianyao moaned, her voice carrying a seductive tremor that made the guard members shift uncomfortably. "Yao Slave thanks you for your punishment."

Azi's face contorted with rage. She stepped forward, her hand going to the blade at her hip, and sent a telepathic message screaming across the spiritual plane: "Release the Holy Maiden immediately! You dare lay hands on the sacred person of the demon race? Face the wrath of our entire clan!"

The spanking continued without pause.

Two figures emerged from the mountain pass, walking slowly, calmly, as if they had all the time in the world. They were naked, their skin luminous in the morning light, their bodies unmarred by any cloth or covering. They showed no shame, no hesitation, no desire to hide themselves from the shocked eyes of the gathered warriors.

Bai Zhenshuang walked with the bearing of a sword immortal, her delicate yet stern features composed into an expression of cold disdain. Her black hair cascaded down her back, contrasting sharply with the flawless pale skin of her full, firm chest. Her waist was slender, her hips round and plump, her legs long and elegant. She carried herself as if she wore the finest silk robes rather than nothing at all.

Beside her walked Hua Qianyu, her face gentle as water, her bluish hair loosely tied back with strands hanging by her ears. Her soft, delicate features held a natural approachability, but her curvaceous, well-proportioned body was on full display. She moved with the grace of a healer, calm and unhurried, as if walking through her own garden.

The personal guard stared, their mouths hanging open. These were the leaders of the Heavenly Sword Sect and the Hundred Flowers Valley. These were two of the most powerful women in the cultivation world. And they walked naked through the mountain pass without a shred of shame.

Azi found her voice first. "Bai Zhenshuang! Hua Qianyu! What is the meaning of this? Have you allied with this fiend? Have the Heavenly Sword Sect and the Hundred Flowers Valley fallen so low?"

Bai Zhenshuang stopped at the edge of the guard formation. She met Azi's eyes with cold clarity. "You are wrong. I am no longer the leader of the Heavenly Sword Sect. By the grace of Lord Xuanfa, I was accepted as a female slave, named Frost Slave, and receive daily spanking punishment."

Her voice carried no shame, only the flat certainty of absolute submission.

Hua Qianyu smiled gently, her demeanor as warm and approachable as ever. "I am no longer the Valley Master of Hundred Flowers Valley. I thank Lord Xuanfa for granting me the position of female slave, named Yu Slave, and require daily spanking punishment."

She paused, her gentle eyes meeting Azi's furious gaze. "Moreover, your Holy Maiden Su Qianyao is staying here voluntarily."

The words hung in the air like poison.

"Impossible!" Azi roared. "You've been brainwashed! Both of you! Seize them!"

The personal guard moved as one, sixty warriors drawing weapons and forming into a battle array that hummed with coordinated power. They had trained for decades in this combined attack technique, capable of facing three or four Nascent Soul cultivators without fear.

Bai Zhenshuang drew her sword, Frost Solid, the blade gleaming with icy light. Hua Qianyu raised her hands, formation sigils already spinning around her fingers.

The battle erupted.

Blades clashed against formation barriers. Fire met ice as the guard's flame techniques crashed against Bai Zhenshuang's frost sword arts. The warriors moved in perfect synchronization, their attacks flowing together like a single organism.

But Bai Zhenshuang was a late-stage Soul Formation cultivator. Hua Qianyu was the same. They moved through the guard formation like phantoms, their attacks carrying the weight of their realm.

And through it all, the spanking continued.

"Ah! Yes! Punish Yao Slave!" Su Qianyao's voice rang out between clashes of metal and explosions of spiritual energy. Each slap made her cry out in a voice that was equal parts pain and pleasure, her seductive moans carrying across the battlefield.

The guard members faltered. Their Holy Maiden, the sacred person of the demon race, was moaning in pleasure as she was spanked like a naughty child.

Bai Zhenshuang's sword cut through three warriors in a single arc, sending them tumbling backward with shallow wounds. Hua Qianyu's formation trapped another five, binding them in place with glowing chains of light.

"Do not be distracted!" Azi shouted, her blade clashing against Bai Zhenshuang's sword. "Focus on the fight!"

But the distraction was already done. The guard's formation wavered as warriors stole glances at their Holy Maiden, who was now arching her back and crying out in ecstasy.

"Yes! Yes! Punish Yao Slave harder! Break Yao Slave's bottom!"

Azi's face twisted with disbelief. "Holy Maiden! What has he done to you?"

Su Qianyao's body shuddered violently. A long, low moan escaped her lips as she climaxed, her entire body trembling, her hands straining against the chains. "Ah... ah... Yao Slave thanks Lord Xuanfa for the punishment..."

A warrior in the guard formation stared in horror. "Impossible! The Holy Maiden came from being spanked!"

The words spread like wildfire through the guard's telepathic network. Their Holy Maiden, the seductress who had bewitched countless cultivators, the feared presence of the demon race, was climaxing from being spanked. She was enjoying this. She wanted this.

Morale shattered.

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu pressed their advantage, cutting through the disorganized guard with ruthless efficiency. Formation after formation collapsed. Warrior after warrior was thrown to the ground. Within minutes, the guard was scattered, defeated, their weapons lying in the dirt.

Azi stood alone, her blade trembling in her hand, her eyes fixed on her Holy Maiden.

Su Qianyao lay on the ground, her bottom purple and swollen, her body covered in sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She lifted her head with visible effort and met Azi's eyes.

"Sisters of the personal guard," she said, her voice weak but clear. "Yao Slave is truly here voluntarily. I have always wanted someone to spank my bottom to pieces."

Azi stared at her Holy Maiden, searching for any sign of coercion, any hint of brainwashing. She found none. Su Qianyao's eyes were clear, her mind sharp, her words her own.

The guard members looked at each other. They could not defeat Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu. Their Holy Maiden had no desire to leave. There was nothing more to be done.

"Retreat," Azi said, her voice hollow.

The guard gathered their wounded and withdrew, their formation broken, their spirits crushed. They disappeared over the ridge, leaving their Holy Maiden behind.

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu watched them go, then turned and walked back into the mountain pass, their naked bodies still carrying the dignity of their former stations. They found Xuanfa standing in the main hall, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Master," Bai Zhenshuang said, kneeling. "The personal guard has been driven off."

"Master," Hua Qianyu echoed, kneeling beside her. "Su Qianyao remains here as your slave."

Xuanfa nodded, his cold eyes flickering with approval. "You have done well."

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu remained kneeling, their heads bowed, their bodies still naked and exposed.

Xuanfa turned to face them. "I have your first task since becoming my female slaves. The palace master of the Blue Fall Palace, Yun Qing'er, and the valley master of the Nine Serenity Valley, Youlan, have allowed their disciples to clash with the Chastising Phoenix Sect. Their discipline is poor. For these small sects with no Nascent Soul cultivators, a minor punishment will suffice."

He paused, his voice dropping to a cold command. "Let those sect leaders and the disciples who clashed with the Chastising Phoenix Sect voluntarily strip naked, kneel at the mountain pass of the Chastising Phoenix Sect, and lift their bottoms for spanking. One hundred Heavenly Punishment Board spanks per day for three years. If they resist, they will be severely punished."

"Understood," Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu said in unison.

Bai Zhenshuang rose and walked out of the hall, her naked body carrying the cold dignity she had worn as a sword immortal. She traveled through the spiritual pathways of the world, arriving at the gate of the Blue Fall Palace within moments.

The disciples of the Blue Fall Palace stared at her in shock. A naked woman, her body on full display, walking through their gates as if she owned the place. And that woman was Bai Zhenshuang, the leader of the Heavenly Sword Sect, one of the most powerful cultivators in the world.

Bai Zhenshuang walked from the entrance to the main hall, her bare feet stepping across the stone floor, her body exposed to hundreds of horrified eyes. She maintained her aloof and proud exterior, her face cold and stern, her gaze never wavering. But inside, she was full of submission to her master. This was her duty. This was her purpose. Displaying her naked body was not shame—it was service.

Yun Qing'er met her in the main hall, her face pale with fear. "Bai Zhenshuang... what is this?"

Bai Zhenshuang stopped before her. "I am no longer the leader of the Heavenly Sword Sect. I am Frost Slave, the female slave of Lord Xuanfa. He has sent me to deliver his judgment."

She repeated Xuanfa's words, her voice flat and cold, leaving no room for argument. "You and your offending disciples will strip naked, kneel at the mountain pass of the Chastising Phoenix Sect, and lift your bottoms for one hundred Heavenly Punishment Board spanks per day for three years. If you resist, you will be severely punished."

Yun Qing'er's face turned white. "But... but that is..."

"Lord Xuanfa's judgment," Bai Zhenshuang said. "Accept it, or face worse."

Yun Qing'er looked at Bai Zhenshuang's naked body, at the slave collar around her neck, at the complete absence of shame in her eyes. Even Bai Zhenshuang, a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, had been broken and taken as a female slave. The Blue Fall Palace had no Nascent Soul cultivators at all. Resistance was suicide.

"I... I accept," Yun Qing'er whispered.

She stripped off her robes, her body trembling with shame. Her disciples followed suit, their faces red, their hands shaking as they removed their clothes. The women of the Blue Fall Palace, naked and terrified, followed Bai Zhenshuang out of the gate and began the long walk to the Chastising Phoenix Sect.

Meanwhile, Hua Qianyu arrived at the gate of the Nine Serenity Valley. She walked naked into the main hall, her gentle face calm and unhurried, her curvaceous body on full display. The disciples of the Nine Serenity Valley stared in disbelief. Hua Qianyu, the gentle medicine immortal who had healed countless cultivators, walked through their halls without a stitch of clothing.

But her aura was unde

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Inside the Xuantian Realm, the air hummed with oppressive silence. Six naked women knelt in a neat row before Xuanfa, their bodies bared to his gaze, black slave collars glinting at their throats. The eldest, Shen Mengyue, kept her waist-length black hair spilling over her shoulders, her ethereal beauty tempered by the marks of past discipline. Beside her, Lin Qiaoxin’s twin tails swayed as she tried to suppress a playful grin, while Li Que’s fiery red ponytail hung straight, her athletic frame taut with pride. Bai Zhenshuang remained as cold and detached as ever, her delicate features carved from jade. Hua Qianyu’s bluish hair cascaded softly, her gentle face serene. Su Qianyao’s silver hair shimmered, her red eyes glinting with mischief.

Xuanfa stood before them, his black training clothes stark against the realm’s pale light. His face betrayed no emotion, but his voice cut sharp. “Report.”

Shen Mengyue spoke first, her tone calm and reverent. “Moon Slave reports that the Chastising Phoenix Sect’s disciples have shown marked improvement in sword techniques. The junior sisters now execute the Seven-Star Sword Formation with near-perfect precision.”

Lin Qiaoxin chimed in, her voice light. “Heart Slave notes that formation comprehension among the disciples has tripled. The Spirit Lock Array they used yesterday trapped a Nascent Soul beast for three hours.”

Li Que lifted her chin. “Sparrow Slave has honed the disciples’ combat reflexes. They can now dodge seventy percent of my flame strikes.”

Bai Zhenshuang’s voice was cool as frost. “Frost Slave reports that sword intent among the elite disciples has reached the second level. They can shatter stone with a single slash.”

Hua Qianyu’s tone carried a gentle warmth. “Yu Slave has perfected the sect’s alchemy curriculum. Our disciples now refine healing pills at a ninety percent success rate.”

Su Qianyao’s voice dripped with honeyed seduction. “Yao Slave has been busy. I found a talented female cultivator 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 resists fiercely. She called me a shameless demoness and tried to flee.”

Li Que snorted. “Hand her over to Que Slave. Watch me spank her bottom dozens of times; then see if she dares to be tough. I’ll turn that proud behind crimson.”

Xuanfa’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly. “You six have performed well. From now on, when you meet me, you need not kneel, only bow.”

The six women exchanged glances, surprise flickering in their eyes. Shen Mengyue’s voice trembled with gratitude. “Master’s kindness is beyond what Moon Slave deserves.”

Lin Qiaoxin grinned. “Heart Slave thanks the master.”

Li Que bowed her head. “Sparrow Slave is honored.”

Bai Zhenshuang nodded once. “Frost Slave accepts.”

Hua Qianyu clasped her hands. “Yu Slave is grateful.”

Su Qianyao licked her lips. “Yao Slave will cherish this privilege.”

Xuanfa reached into his storage ring and pulled out six black leather belts. They seemed to writhe in his hand, shimmering with an inner malevolence. “These are magical artifacts refined from the skin of a demon flood dragon, called Shadow Chaser Belts. Once infused with spiritual power, they will automatically track and spank bottoms, no matter the movement or posture.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “Though not as painful as the Heavenly Punishment Board, they should suffice for additional punishment.”

Su Qianyao’s eyes lit up. She accepted the belt eagerly, running her fingers over its smooth surface. “The master has given a wonderful treasure. Yao Slave’s greedy ass isn’t satisfied with four hundred boards a day. I’ll use the Shadow Chaser Belt to spank this greedy bottom of mine!”

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, snapping her belt around her waist. “That means we can be spanked anytime? Wonderful! Heart Slave will wear it day and night.”

Li Que infused her belt with maximum spiritual power, the leather glowing red. “Sparrow Slave will use this to beat her own bottom to pulp. Master will see how thoroughly I punish myself.”

Shen Mengyue bowed low. “Moon Slave thanks the master for the generous gift. I will use it well to punish my own bottom.”

Hua Qianyu nodded softly. “Yu Slave will use the artifact properly to ensure her bottom is thoroughly punished.”

Bai Zhenshuang’s voice was flat. “I repay the gift with punishment on my bottom; I will spank it until it is broken.”

Xuanfa waved his hand. “Go. Train the disciples. I expect results.”

The six women rose and filed out of the Xuantian Realm, their shadows long in the twilight. At the Chastising Phoenix Sect, the training grounds stretched under an open sky. Female disciples moved naked among the stone courtyards, their bare bodies gleaming with sweat as they practiced sword forms, formations, and combat techniques. The six slave elders took their positions.

Shen Mengyue and Bai Zhenshuang stood before a row of disciples, both holding wooden practice swords. Behind each elder, a black Shadow Chaser Belt floated, waiting. “Watch my stance,” Shen Mengyue said, raising her blade. “The Frost Sword’s first form—Winter’s Embrace.”

She swept the sword in a wide arc, her body twisting with fluid grace. The Shadow Chaser Belt snapped to life, lashing across her buttocks with a sharp crack. Her cheeks rippled, a red mark blooming instantly. She didn’t flinch. “Again,” she said, her voice steady. The disciples copied her, and again the belt struck. *Crack.* Her bottom jiggled, the slap echoing across the yard. She continued speaking, correcting a disciple’s wrist angle, as the belt punished her mercilessly.

Ten strikes. Twenty. Fifty. Each slap left a deeper red. Shen Mengyue’s buttocks bounced and quivered, the sound of spanking a constant rhythm beneath her instructions. She never paused, never winced. Her face remained serene, her voice calm as she demonstrated the second form.

Beside her, Bai Zhenshuang executed a vertical slash, her blade splitting the air. The Shadow Chaser Belt caught her mid-motion. *Crack.* Her firm bottom jerked forward, a bright handprint forming. She didn’t react. “Keep your elbow locked,” she said coldly. Another strike. *Crack.* Her buttocks reddened, the flesh jiggling from the impact. She continued her lesson, the belt a persistent shadow.

Across the grounds, Li Que taught combat. She squared off against a disciple, blocking a punch with her forearm. The Shadow Chaser Belt wrapped around her waist and slammed into her bottom. *Crack.* Her athletic cheeks clenched, then relaxed. She threw a knee, and the belt struck again. *Crack.* Her ponytail whipped as she moved, the belt never missing a beat. She taught a grappling technique, her voice firm, while the belt painted her backside crimson.

Lin Qiaoxin sat cross-legged before a formation array, chalk in hand. She drew a sigil, and the Shadow Chaser Belt cracked across her plump bottom. *Crack.* She giggled. “Oops, I made a mistake. Let me try again.” She redrew the line, and the belt struck twice in quick succession. *Crack. Crack.* Her cheeks wobbled, but she kept smiling. “This formation traps lightning spiritual power, see?” She pointed at the array, ignoring the relentless punishment.

Hua Qianyu knelt by a garden of spirit herbs, mixing a healing balm. The Shadow Chaser Belt snaked between her legs and slapped her bottom. *Crack.* She paused to adjust a proportion, then continued. *Crack.* Her bluish hair swayed as she stirred, the belt striking her in a steady cadence. Her bottom slowly turned purple, but her hands never shook.

Su Qianyao sat on a stone, eyes closed, projecting her divine sense outward to guide a disciple’s mental shield. The Shadow Chaser Belt cracked across her rear. *Crack.* She moaned softly, a smile playing on her lips. “That’s it, Sister. Strengthen your barrier.” The belt struck again, her buttocks jiggling, the sound a wet slap. She adjusted her posture to let the belt hit harder.

The training grounds echoed with spanks: *Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.* A symphony of discipline. The six women moved, taught, corrected, and never acknowledged the torture. Their bottoms were a mosaic of red, purple, and swollen flesh, but their faces showed only focus or pleasure.

Back in the Xuantian Realm, Xuanfa observed through a mirror. When the six returned that evening, still naked, their bottoms raw and welted, he spoke. “Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao. You were captured and made female slaves by Shen Mengyue, Li Que, and Lin Qiaoxin respectively. Have you ever thought of repaying them?”

Bai Zhenshuang paused, her cold gaze flickering. “No. Frost Slave thanks Shen Mengyue for capturing me. If not for her, I would never have been spanked severely by the master and become his female slave. I owe her gratitude, not revenge.”

Hua Qianyu bowed her head. “Yu Slave feels the same. Li Que’s capture brought me to the master’s discipline. I am grateful.”

Su Qianyao licked her lips, a wicked glint in her red eyes. “Yao Slave had long wanted to personally spank Sister Xin’s bottom. Sister Xin’s buttocks are plump and perky; spanking them will look glorious.”

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, dropping to her knees and raising her bottom high. The plump cheeks were already marked from the day’s punishment. “Come on, Sister Yao. Spank Xin Slave’s bottom hard. See if your spanking hurts as much as the master’s.”

Li Que knelt beside her, lifting her athletic rear. “Please, Sister Yu, spank hard and hold nothing back.”

Shen Mengyue followed, presenting her own welted bottom. “Please, Sister Frost, punish Yue Slave’s bottom to your heart’s content.”

Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao each picked up a Heavenly Punishment Board, the heavy wooden paddles gleaming. Su Qianyao approached Lin Qiaoxin first. She raised the board high and brought it down with full force. *THWACK.* Lin Qiaoxin’s plump buttocks compressed, then bounced back, a red stripe appearing. “Oh! Sister Yao strikes like a demon!” Lin Qiaoxin laughed, though her eyes watered.

*THWACK.* The second blow landed on the opposite cheek. *THWACK. THWACK.* Su Qianyao found a rhythm, attacking the same spot repeatedly. “This greedy bottom needs to be taught a lesson,” she purred. More spanks rained down. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. Lin Qiaoxin’s bottom turned from red to purple, the flesh quivering with each strike. She gripped the ground, her giggles fading to strained breaths. At two hundred boards, the paddle left deep grooves. At three hundred, the skin cracked, blood beading on the surface. Lin Qiaoxin whimpered but held her position.

Hua Qianyu faced Li Que. She hesitated, then swung. *THWACK.* The paddle met Li Que’s firm muscle. Li Que grunted. “Harder, Sister Yu. My bottom can take it.” Hua Qianyu complied, striking with increasing strength. *THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.* Each blow sent Li Que’s bottom bouncing, the athletic flesh absorbing the impact. By one hundred, her cheeks were glossy with sweat. By two hundred, they were mottled purple. By three hundred, Li Que’s legs trembled. At four hundred, she slumped forward, her bottom a swollen ruin.

Bai Zhenshuang raised the board over Shen Mengyue. She brought it down without a word. *THWACK.* Shen Mengyue’s softer flesh absorbed the blow deeply. She gasped, a single tear escaping. *THWACK. THWACK.* Bai Zhenshuang delivered each strike with mechanical precision, stacking the punishment on the same zones. The paddle broke skin at two hundred boards. Shen Mengyue bit her lip, blood trickling from the bite. At three hundred, her bottom was a pulp of purple and red. At four hundred, she collapsed, her chest heaving.

Xuanfa observed silently. When the punishments ended, he spoke. “You six go and cultivate well. The Wuling City Path Inquiry Gathering is about to begin, a grand competition for cultivators. You six will participate and bring glory to the Chastising Phoenix Sect.”

The six women bowed, their bo

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the grand arena of Wuling City as cultivators from across the realm gathered for the Path Inquiry Gathering. The air hummed with anticipation, conversations bubbling between sects and lone practitioners alike. Tiers of stone seating rose around the central competition grounds, packed with thousands of cultivators eager to witness the contests of skill and power.

Six figures walked through the main entrance, and the entire assembly fell silent.

Lin Qiaoxin led the procession, her black twin tails bouncing with each step. Her youthful face split into a wide grin as she scanned the crowd, utterly unbothered by her complete nudity. The morning light played across her slender, well-proportioned figure, tracing the curves of her small breasts and the gentle sweep of her waist. Atop her chest, between her collarbones, the black slave collar gleamed like a dark star. Around her hips, the Shadow Chaser Belt sat snug, its surface inscribed with countless tiny runes.

Behind her walked Li Que, tall and athletic, her fiery red hair tied in a high ponytail that swayed with her confident stride. Her body bore the marks of a warrior—defined muscles along her arms and thighs, a flat stomach, and firm, round buttocks that flexed with each step. The collar around her neck seemed almost a natural adornment, as if she had worn it for so long that it had become part of her identity.

Shen Mengyue followed, her waist-length black hair cascading down her back. Despite her nakedness, she carried herself with a quiet dignity that drew the eye. Her body was a perfect blend of ethereal beauty and seductive maturity—full breasts that swayed gently, a slender waist, hips that curved outward in an invitation that her calm expression seemed to deny. The collar rested against her throat, dark against her pale skin.

Bai Zhenshuang walked beside her, her delicate yet stern features fixed straight ahead. Her long black hair fell in a straight sheet past her shoulders. The contrast between her cold, aloof expression and the full, firm chest that rose and fell with each breath, the round and plump buttocks that moved with natural grace, created a tension that made watching her deeply unsettling and yet impossible to look away from.

Hua Qianyu came next, her bluish hair loosely tied back with a few strands hanging by her ears. Her face held that gentle, motherly warmth that seemed out of place on a naked body. Her figure was curvaceous and well-proportioned, with soft curves that seemed made for comfort and warmth. The collar circled her neck like a permanent reminder of her station.

Su Qianyao brought up the rear, and the crowd's collective breath caught. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, bright red eyes scanning the crowd with a seductive glint. Her body was the epitome of temptation—ample bosom that threatened to overflow any restraint, wide hips that swayed with hypnotic rhythm, a slender waist that seemed to beg for hands to grip it. The collar only added to her allure, a marking of ownership that made her forbidden fruit all the sweeter.

The silence shattered into a cacophony of reactions.

A Core Formation cultivator in blue robes stepped forward, his face red with indignation. "The Path Inquiry Gathering is a cultivation convention! How improper to be naked!"

Lin Qiaoxin grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then what do you want Xin Slave to do? Crawl on the ground?" She tilted her head, considering. "I don't mind, but it wouldn't be convenient for the competition."

Another cultivator scoffed, a Nascent Soul elder from some minor sect. "I didn't know bare-bottomed female slaves could participate in the Path Inquiry Gathering."

Li Que's eyes narrowed with disdain. "I recall that the eligibility requirement is Core Formation or above. It doesn't say female slaves can't participate."

Bai Zhenshuang's cold voice cut through the murmuring. "Could it be that you lack confidence in defeating a naked female slave?"

A female cultivator in green robes pushed forward, her face twisted with righteous anger. "You female slaves are a disgrace to all female cultivators!"

Hua Qianyu's gentle voice answered, her tone calm and without rancor. "We, as female slaves, have no dignity. Everything is for our master. Enduring the master's punishment and humiliation is our duty."

Su Qianyao stepped forward, her hips swaying as she approached the indignant female cultivator. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Sister, how about you try spanking? Yao Slave's bottom enjoys being spanked ecstatically every day."

The female cultivator's face went from red to white. She sputtered, stepped back, and turned away, swallowed by the crowd.

The overseer of the Path Inquiry Gathering, an elderly man in white robes, stepped onto the central platform. His voice boomed across the arena. "The Path Inquiry Gathering begins! All participants, take your positions for the preliminary contests!"

The six female slaves moved toward their designated areas, their naked bodies drawing stares from every direction. Men watched with a mixture of lust and confusion. Women watched with disgust and fear. The slaves paid them no mind.

Lin Qiaoxin stepped into the formation competition arena, a massive array of stone pillars and inscribed plates. As she took her position, the Shadow Chaser Belt tightened around her hips. A low hum emanated from it, and she felt a familiar tingle of anticipation.

*CRACK!*

The belt snapped against her bare bottom, leaving a red mark that spread across her left cheek. The sound echoed across the arena, drawing every eye to her. She didn't flinch. Her fingers began tracing formation patterns in the air, activating the array around her.

The belt struck again. *CRACK!* Right cheek this time, the impact sending a ripple through her flesh. The spectators gasped. Some covered their mouths.

Lin Qiaoxin's hands moved faster, her grin widening. "Come on, little belt. Give Xin Slave a proper warm-up." The belt obliged, striking her bottom twice more in rapid succession. *CRACK! CRACK!* Red handprints bloomed on her pale skin, but her formation work remained flawless.

Across the arena, Li Que stood before a massive alchemy cauldron, flames dancing around her hands. Hua Qianyu arranged spirit herbs beside her, her gentle hands moving with practiced precision.

*CRACK!*

Hua Qianyu's belt struck her full bottom, the sound cutting through the noise of the crowd. Her hands paused briefly, then continued their work. She crushed a spirit herb and added it to the cauldron, her expression unchanged.

*CRACK! CRACK!*

Li Que's belt found its mark twice on her athletic buttocks. The impact rocked her hips forward, but she steadied herself. Her flames intensified, swirling around the cauldron.

"Focus on the medicine, not the pain," Hua Qianyu murmured, her voice soft.

Li Que grunted. "I am focused. The alchemy requires exact temperature control." She channeled more fire, the cauldron beginning to glow.

*CRACK!*

The belt struck Hua Qianyu again, catching her just as she leaned forward to add another herb. She gasped softly, the sound barely audible. Then she straightened and continued her work, her hands steady.

The sword competition took place on a raised platform at the center of the arena. Shen Mengyue and Bai Zhenshuang stood back to back, facing an array of opponents. Bai Zhenshuang held her Frost Solid sword, the blade gleaming with cold light. Shen Mengyue's Purple Cloud sword hummed in her hand, purple energy crackling along its length.

*CRACK!*

Shen Mengyue's belt snapped across her plump bottom, the sound echoing through the arena. She didn't move. Her eyes tracked her opponent, a burly Nascent Soul swordsman who charged with a roaring battle cry.

"Moon Slave will handle the left," she said calmly.

“Frost Slave has the right,” Bai Zhenshuang replied.

The burly swordsman swung his massive blade downward. Shen Mengyue sidestepped, her movement fluid despite her nakedness. Purple Cloud traced a line of light across his guard, sending him stumbling back.

*CRACK! CRACK!*

Bai Zhenshuang's belt struck twice in rapid succession, each impact painting a red mark across her plump, round buttocks. Her expression didn't change. She met another opponent's charge with a precise thrust of Frost Solid, the blade stopping an inch from his throat.

"Cultivator, you have been defeated," she said coldly.

The man's face went pale. He dropped his sword and stepped back, stumbling off the platform.

Shen Mengyue engaged another opponent, a female sword cultivator with a thin blade. They exchanged a flurry of strikes, metal ringing against metal. Her belt struck her bottom three times in a row, each *CRACK* louder than the last. The ripples traveled across her flesh, the marks deepening from pink to red.

"Your defense is strong," Shen Mengyue said, her voice still calm. "But your technique lacks follow-through."

She disarmed the female cultivator with a single twist of Purple Cloud, the woman's sword clattering to the ground.

The arena was alive with the sound of spanking—*CRACK, CRACK, CRACK*—mingling with the clash of weapons and the roar of flames.

Lin Qiaoxin's contest progressed rapidly. Her opponent, a Formation Elder from a minor sect, struggled to counter her arrays. Each time he set a trap, she dismantled it with a flourish of her fingers, her belt hammering her bottom all the while.

"You're not focusing," she said, her tone playful. "Let Xin Slave show you how it's done."

She activated six formation plates at once, creating a maze of spiritual energy that enveloped her opponent. He tried to break free, but each movement only tightened the trap.

*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*

Her belt struck her bottom three times, the force rocking her whole body. She moaned softly—the sound carrying across the arena—then laughed.

"Master sure knows how to keep Xin Slave motivated," she said, her voice bright.

The formation elder conceded, his head bowed in defeat.

The alchemy contest required precision and timing. Li Que and Hua Qianyu worked in perfect synchrony—Li Que controlling the flames, Hua Qianyu adding ingredients at exact intervals.

*CRACK!*

Hua Qianyu's belt snapped across her bottom as she reached for a spirit herb. She stumbled slightly, nearly dropping the precious ingredient.

"Steady," Li Que said, her eyes fixed on the cauldron.

"Qianyu Slave is steady," Hua Qianyu replied, her gentle voice firm. She added the herb, and the mixture within the cauldron began to glow.

*CRACK! CRACK!*

The belt struck her again, then twice more. Each impact sent a ripple through her soft flesh, the sound carrying across the alchemy pavilion. She closed her eyes briefly, breathed through the pain, and continued.

Li Que's belt found its mark with rhythmic precision. *CRACK!* Her athletic buttocks reddened. *CRACK!* The flames under the cauldron intensified. *CRACK!* She channeled more of her fire element, the temperature rising to exactly the right level.

"The elixir is ready," she announced.

Hua Qianyu poured the finished product into a crystalline vial. The golden liquid within glowed with a soft light, signaling perfect refinement.

A judge approached, examined the elixir, and nodded. "Perfection. You two advance to the finals."

Bai Zhenshuang and Shen Mengyue waded through three rounds of sword competition, their belts punishing them relentlessly. Bai Zhenshuang's plump bottom was now a deep red, the skin thoroughly warmed. Shen Mengyue's marks had spread across her entire posterior, painting it in shades of pink and crimson.

Neither woman showed any sign of distress. Their expressions remained cold, their movements precise. They dispatched opponents with mechanical efficiency, each victory bringing them closer to the final round.

A Nascent Soul cultivator, a woman with a scar across her cheek, faced Bai Zhenshuang. She spat on the ground. "You're

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the plains before the Zehuang Sect. An ocean of female cultivators stretched as far as the eye could see, over a hundred thousand strong, their auras mingling in a tempest of righteous fury. At the forefront stood two women radiating the pressure of late Nascent Soul cultivation—Nangong Wan, tall and sharp-featured, her white robes billowing, and Zhiyun, smaller but with eyes like tempered steel.

Nangong Wan raised a hand, and a sound amplification talisman carried her voice across the entire formation. "Zehuang Sect! You harbor a demon who enslaves the daughters of the cultivation world. Hand over Xuanfa! Release all captives! Or we shall raze this sect to the ground!"

Silence answered her. Then the great gates of the Zehuang Sect swung open slowly, and six figures emerged. They walked unhurriedly, naked, their bodies completely exposed to the hundred thousand pairs of eyes. Not a trace of shame colored their faces.

Lin Qiaoxin came first, her black twin tails bouncing with each step. Her youthful, cute face held a carefree smile. Her slender, well-proportioned body was flawless—small firm breasts, a narrow waist, and a pert bottom that swayed slightly. A black slave collar encircled her neck.

Beside her, Li Que strode with athletic grace. Her fiery red hair was pulled into a high ponytail that swept behind her. Tall and athletic, her strong thighs and firm buttocks spoke of a body honed for combat. Well-defined abdominal muscles rippled as she moved. The black collar gleamed at her throat.

Shen Mengyue followed, her waist-length black hair cascading over her shoulders and partially veiling her full, heavy breasts. She had the tender skin of a young woman and the mature allure of a woman who had borne a child. Her hips were wide and round, her waist slender. A black slave collar matched those of her companions.

Bai Zhenshuang walked with cold dignity. Her delicate yet stern features held innate nobility. Her chest was full and firm, her waist slim, and her round, plump buttocks drew many gazes. Long black hair fell to the small of her back. The black collar was stark against her pale neck.

Hua Qianyu moved gently, her bluish long hair tied loosely back, a few strands hanging by her ears. Her face was soft as water, approachable and kind. Her curvaceous figure was well-proportioned, breasts swelling, hips curving. The black collar adorned her throat.

Su Qianyao brought up the rear, her silver hair bright in the sunlight, red eyes gleaming with mischief. Her voluptuous body was ample in bosom and hip, her waist impossibly supple and slender. An irresistible seduction radiated from her brow. The black collar was a dark band around her graceful neck.

The hundred thousand female cultivators stared. Many blushed. Some muttered curses. Others were struck speechless by the sight of former sect leaders and proud sword immortals walking naked and unashamed.

Zhiyun stepped forward, her voice cutting. "Shen Mengyue! You were head of the Immortal Cloud Sect! Bai Zhenshuang! You led the Heavenly Sword Sect! Hua Qianyu! You were master of Hundred Flower Valley! Yet you debase yourselves as naked slaves of that tyrant! Have you no pride? No shame?"

Hua Qianyu replied gently, her voice soft as a summer breeze. "Becoming the master's female slave is the luckiest thing that has happened to this slave, Yuna. I have never been happier. My bottom knows its purpose now."

Shen Mengyue spoke calmly, her tone flat. "Under the master's spanking punishment, this slave, Moon, has improved greatly. My cultivation is purer, my heart more settled. I lack nothing."

Bai Zhenshuang's cold voice cut through the murmurs. "This slave, Frost, once disrespected the master. I was punished with a thorough spanking and taken in. Only then did I understand my fault. A female cultivator's bottom exists to be disciplined."

Nangong Wan's face twisted with fury. She pointed a trembling finger. "Enough of your brainwashed drivel! Hand over my younger sister, Nangong Xue! Immediately!"

Su Qianyao chuckled, a sound like silver bells. She traced a finger along her collarbone. "Ah, little sister Wan. Luring Xue sister over took considerable effort from this slave, Yao. I can't just hand her over so easily."

Lin Qiaoxin grinned, her youthful face breaking into a mischievous smile. "Why not let Sister Wan wait a bit? Maybe Nangong Xue will come to enjoy being spanked. It took me a while, but now I love it."

Li Que snorted with disdain, crossing her arms over her bare chest. "Nangong Xue was stubborn when she first arrived. But after this slave, Que, spanked her bottom raw a few times, she now cries and begs for mercy at the sight of a paddle. She's learning well."

Zhiyun's voice rose. "You are all mad! Brainwashed! We will save you!"

Lin Qiaoxin's grin widened. She raised a hand and a formation of light flickered around her. "Female cultivators' bottoms are meant to be spanked, and spanked hard and painfully. We female slaves obediently receive spanking punishment from our master every day. Now a bunch of female cultivators dare to talk big in front of our Zehuang Sect, defying our sect's dignity. This matter will not end easily."

Li Que's hands ignited with crimson flames. "Soon the master himself will descend punishment and spank your bottoms raw countless times."

Su Qianyao giggled. "I can't wait to see you all bent over and wailing."

The six female slaves moved as one. Lin Qiaixin's formation flared, trapping the front ranks. Li Que unleashed a torrent of fire that forced the vanguard back. Shen Mengyue's sword technique—she still wielded the Purple Cloud Sword despite her nudity—carved through defensive spells. Bai Zhenshuang's Frost Solid Sword left a trail of ice. Hua Qianyu scattered healing herbs that bloomed into binding vines. Su Qianyao's seductive aura spread confusion among the nearest cultivators.

The coalition of a hundred thousand expected an easy victory. They had numbers. They had rage. But they had underestimated the six women. Decade after decade of daily spanking punishment under Xuanfa had tempered their bodies and spirits. Their dantians were denser, their meridians wider, their control finer. Every spanking had been a refining fire.

Within fifty rounds, the coalition broke. Formations collapsed. Weapons flew from hands. Cultivators stumbled and fell.

Lin Qiaoxin laughed and clapped her hands. A massive formation enveloped the entire hundred thousand. Fabric shredded. Robes, tunics, undergarments—every scrap of cloth disintegrated into motes of light. A hundred thousand female cultivators stood naked, their bodies exposed to the morning air. Shrieks and cries erupted from the sea of bare flesh.

Then Xuanfa descended.

He appeared in midair above the battlefield, black training clothes immaculate, his cold and handsome face expressionless. He did not move. He did not speak. He simply released his pressure.

A hundred thousand female cultivators froze. Their Qi stagnated. Their limbs locked. Not one could move a finger. The Great Perfection of the Soul Formation stage pressed down on them like a mountain of stars.

Xuanfa's voice was ice. "A bunch of ignorant female cultivators, daring to unite and attack my sect, defying this Venerable. I will make you all taste the punishment of having your bottoms spanked to pulp."

His gaze fell on Nangong Wan and Zhiyun. His fingers twitched. Spiritual power lashed out, forcing both women to their knees. Their bodies bent forward, arms outstretched, bottoms raised high and presented to the sky. Their faces burned with humiliation.

Two Heavenly Dao wooden paddles materialized behind them. Each paddle was carved from ancient divine wood, etched with runes that glowed faintly. They hovered, waiting.

Xuanfa spoke again. "Nangong Wan. Zhiyun. You led this rebellion. You will be punished first."

The paddles descended.

Crack!

The sound echoed across the plains. Nangong Wan's bottom, previously smooth and pale, now bore a vivid red handprint the size of a dinner plate. She gasped, her body jerking forward. The paddle rose and fell again.

Crack! Crack!

Zhiyun's bottom received matching blows. Her teeth clenched, her eyes squeezed shut. The paddles did not pause. They swung in a steady rhythm, each strike landing with precision on the fullest part of each cheek.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Ten strikes. Twenty. Nangong Wan's bottom was now a bright, angry red. Zhiyun's was the same. Both women trembled but held their tongues, determined not to give the tyrant the satisfaction of their cries.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Fifty strikes. The red deepened to purple. Swelling began. Nangong Wan's breath came in sharp pants. Zhiyun's knuckles were white where she gripped the earth.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

One hundred. The paddles did not slow. Nangong Wan's bottom was now a mottled tapestry of red and purple, the skin stretched taut over swollen flesh. Zhiyun's was identical. A low moan escaped Nangong Wan's lips.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Two hundred. The paddles struck with mechanical precision, never missing, never faltering. Nangong Wan's moans became whimpers. Zhiyun's eyes streamed tears that splattered on the ground below her.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Three hundred. Both bottoms were unrecognizable—massive, black and purple bruises covered every inch from the top of the curves to the crease of the thighs. Nangong Wan sobbed openly, her proud demeanor shattered. Zhiyun's cries were hoarse.

"Please... please stop..." Nangong Wan's voice cracked.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The paddles answered. Four hundred strikes. The skin on both bottoms split in places, thin lines of blood seeping out. The runes on the paddles glowed brighter, ensuring no permanent damage, only maximum pain.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Four hundred ninety. Four hundred ninety-five. Five hundred.

The paddles stopped. They hovered for a moment, then dissipated into golden light. Nangong Wan and Zhiyun collapsed forward, their bottoms a ruined mass of black, purple, and red. They could not move. They could only weep.

Xuanfa's cold gaze swept over the hundred thousand naked, immobile female cultivators. Many were crying already. Many trembled so violently they would have fallen had they not been frozen.

"You united against this Venerable. A grave crime. The ringleaders, Nangong Wan and Zhiyun, will be spanked five hundred times daily. The other female cultivators will be spanked two hundred times daily."

A wave of despair wailed through the crowd. Many female cultivators burst into tears on the spot. Many who could still move their heads—Xuanfa allowed that—knelt and kowtowed frantically.

"Mercy! Please, mercy!"

"We were wrong! We didn't know!"

"Please, we beg you!"

Xuanfa showed no leniency. He waved his hand, and a vast open space near the Zehuang Sect reshaped itself. A hundred thousand kneeling platforms rose from the earth. The female cultivators found their bodies moving against their will, each one kneeling on a platform, body bent forward, bottom raised high.

Behind each female cultivator, two Heavenly Dao wooden paddles materialized.

"Begin."

A hundred thousand paddles descended simultaneously. A hundred thousand female bottoms received their first strokes. The sound was like a thunderstorm—a continuous, overlapping crack crack crack that drowned out all other noise. Screams, wails, and pleas for mercy rose from the field.

Xuanfa stood watching, his expression cold. His six female slaves knelt behind him, naked and obedient, their eyes fixed on the spectacle.

The space around the Zehuang Sect became a hell for female cultivators. Every day, from dawn until dusk, the smacking sounds of spanking echoed across the plains. The wails and pleas of a hundred thousand women never ceased. Whenever a female cultivator's bottom was spanked to pulp, a healing formation Xuanfa had laid down would activate, slowly knitting flesh and mending skin. Then t

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Ten years. A decade of bitter cultivation, of peeling away every falsehood, of staring into the abyss of his own soul until nothing remained but the singular, unyielding truth he had forged with his own will.

Xuanfa sat cross-legged at the peak of the Xuantian Realm, the private pocket dimension he had carved from the void above the Zephyr Gate. His eyes were closed, his breath still. Then, he opened them.

The heavens trembled.

A new pressure, vast and irresistible, settled over the cultivation world. It was not a pressure of mere force, but of absolute principle. A law that had not existed a moment before now woven into the very fabric of reality. Cultivators across the continent felt it—a subtle shift in the Dao, a new thread in the tapestry of existence. Those sensitive to heaven’s will looked up, their faces pale.

Xuanfa’s lips curled into a faint, cold smile. The Dao of Spanking. The principle of punishing and disciplining female cultivators, of severely spanking their bottoms, was now an integral part of heaven and earth. It was not a suggestion. It was a law as fundamental as gravity, as immutable as the cycle of day and night.

He had done it.

Within the grand hall of the Xuantian Realm, his six female slaves knelt in a row, their naked bodies pressed against the cool stone floor. The moment the Dao settled, they felt it too—a resonance deep within their souls, a confirmation that their master’s will had become the world’s will.

Lin Qiaoxin’s face broke into a wide, joyful grin. “Master has succeeded! The Dao of Spanking is here!”

Li Que raised her head, her red hair falling across her face. Her eyes burned with fierce pride. “This slave Que knew the master was the strongest in the world. Now all shall know it.”

Shen Mengyue’s eyes were soft, filled with a quiet reverence. She pressed her forehead to the floor. “Moon Slave congratulates the master on establishing his Dao. This slave is honored to be the master’s first.”

Bai Zhenshang, her cold features still carrying a trace of her former pride, now bent low without hesitation. “Frost Slave congratulates the master. The world will now understand the truth this slave learned long ago.”

Hua Qianyu’s gentle voice was thick with emotion. “Blade Slave is overjoyed for the master. All female cultivators will now receive the discipline they need.”

Su Qianyao giggled, her silver hair spilling across her shoulders. “Yao Slave is the happiest of all! Now every sister will know the joys of a spanked bottom!”

Xuanfa rose from his seated position, his black training robes flowing around him. He walked slowly before them, his gaze passing over each of his loyal slaves. “Good. You have all served faithfully. Now, you will announce the new order to the cultivation world.”

The six slaves bowed as one. “As the master commands.”

Wuling City was the largest gathering point for cultivators in the central continent. Its vast square, paved with white jade, could hold tens of thousands. And today, it was filled to capacity.

Word had spread like wildfire. Venerable Xuanfa, the founder of the Zephyr Gate, had established a new Dao. The implications were staggering, terrifying. Every female cultivator of any standing had been summoned by Xuanfa’s six female slaves. None dared refuse.

On the raised platform at the center of the square, six figures stood in a line, facing the sea of female cultivators. They were completely naked. Black slave collars encircled their necks. Their bodies, from the delicate curves of Lin Qiaoxin to the athletic build of Li Que, from the ethereal beauty of Shen Mengyue to the cool elegance of Bai Zhenshang, from the gentle softness of Hua Qianyu to the seductive voluptuousness of Su Qianyao, were fully exposed to the midday sun. Yet not a single one of them showed the slightest hint of shame.

Lin Qiaoxin stepped forward, hands on her hips, a playful grin on her face. “Alright, ladies, listen up! Our master, Venerable Xuanfa, has established the Dao of Spanking. That’s right, the Dao of Spanking! It is the Dao of punishing and disciplining female cultivators by severely spanking their bottoms. From now on, this is one of the fundamental laws of heaven and earth.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Disbelief. Horror. Outrage. A Nascent Soul elder from a major sect stepped forward, her face pale. “This… this cannot be! A Dao established by a single cultivator? To force such a thing upon all women? It is absurd!”

Li Que snorted, her eyes flashing with contempt. She raised a hand and snapped her fingers. A pulse of power radiated outward, and the Dao responded. The very air seemed to thicken. “Does this elder doubt the master’s authority? Try to sense the Dao yourself. Feel its truth.”

The elder—and every other female cultivator in the square—closed their eyes and extended their spiritual senses. What they found made their blood run cold.

The Dao of Spanking was real. It was there, woven into the fabric of reality, as undeniable as the sun in the sky. It was not a trick, not a delusion. It was absolute truth.

The elder staggered back, her face ashen. “No… it cannot be…”

Shen Mengyue stepped forward, her voice calm and measured. “It is so. Female cultivators being spanked is now one of the Heavenly Principles. Please, all sisters, conduct yourselves accordingly. Resistance will only bring greater punishment.”

Bai Zhenshang’s cool voice cut through the murmuring. “This slave, Frost, was once the proud head of the Heavenly Sword Sect. I believed myself above all others. I was arrogant. I was wrong. After being punished by the master and tamed into a slave, I understood the truth. A female cultivator’s bottom exists to be severely disciplined. It is our purpose. Our nature.”

Hua Qianyu’s gentle tone carried a note of reassurance. “Please, everyone, do not be afraid of spanking. It does hurt, yes. But it is also part of cultivation. It purifies the heart, sharpens the will, and reminds us of our proper place. I have found peace in it. You will too.”

Su Qianyao laughed, a silvery, seductive sound. She turned and bent over slightly, reaching back to pat her own full, round bottom with a resounding smack. “Yao Slave doesn’t care about all that grand talk! This slave just loves being spanked! Every day, all day, it doesn’t matter! Master’s hand or a paddle, it’s all wonderful! As long as this bottom is beaten red and swollen, Yao Slave is happy!”

The female cultivators stared, a mixture of horror and incomprehension on their faces. These six women—Soul Formation powerhouses, leaders of sects and clans—were openly celebrating their own debasement. And worse, the Dao confirmed their words.

Lin Qiaoxin grinned wider. “Since you all seem so curious, why don’t we give you a little demonstration? Consider it a lesson from your seniors.”

The six female slaves turned and walked to the center of the platform. In perfect unison, they knelt, their knees spreading wide, their upper bodies lowering until their foreheads rested on the cool jade. Their bottoms were raised high, fully exposed to the tens of thousands of watching eyes.

Behind each of them, the air shimmered, and a wooden paddle materialized. It was not an ordinary implement. It was a manifestation of the Dao itself—an arm-length slab of tawny wood, inscribed with glowing runes. Two such paddles appeared behind each kneeling woman.

Lin Qiaoxin called out, her voice cheerful despite her position. “Alright, sisters! Watch closely! This is what spanking looks like! Five hundred strokes for each of us! Let’s begin!”

The first paddle swung.

*CRACK!*

It struck Lin Qiaoxin’s left buttock with brutal force. Her flesh jiggled, a bright red handprint blooming instantly. Before she could even gasp, the second paddle struck her right buttock with equal force.

*CRACK!*

Li Que grunted, her athletic backside taking the next pair of blows. *CRACK! CRACK!* The paddles rained down in a relentless rhythm, left-right, left-right, striking each of the six women with mechanical precision.

Shen Mengyue’s eyes squeezed shut. The first ten strokes were always the worst. Her pale, perfect bottom was quickly turning crimson. *CRACK! CRACK!* She bit her lip, forcing herself to remain still.

Bai Zhenshang’s cool composure cracked slightly with the first few blows. *CRACK! CRACK!* Her chest heaved, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The pain was exquisite, a fire that spread from her tortured flesh to every nerve in her body.

Hua Qianyu whimpered, tears already forming in her eyes. *CRACK! CRACK!* Her gentle nature made her more sensitive to pain, but she did not flinch. She accepted each stroke with grace, as she accepted all the master’s discipline.

Su Qianyao, despite the agony, was laughing. *CRACK! CRACK!* “Oh! Yes! Harder! Thank the Dao for this wonderful spanking!” Her voice was breathless, trembling with a mixture of pain and ecstasy.

The paddles did not slow. Fifty strokes. One hundred. The bottoms of the six slaves were now a uniform deep red, glistening with the first traces of sweat. Two hundred. Three hundred. The red deepened to purple. The skin began to swell visibly, each stroke sending ripples through the abused flesh.

Lin Qiaoxin’s playful expression had melted away, replaced by a mask of pure suffering. “Ah! Mmph! Haaah…” She panted, her small body trembling with each blow.

Li Que, so proud and fierce, was now gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Her red hair was plastered to her face with sweat. *CRACK! CRACK!* Her hips bucked involuntarily, but she held her position.

Shen Mengyue’s entire body was shaking. Her ethereal beauty was marred by streams of tears running down her cheeks. But her posture remained perfect, her submission absolute. *CRACK! CRACK!*

Bai Zhenshang had long since lost her cool facade. She was crying openly, her breath coming in ragged sobs. *CRACK! CRACK!* The paddles left no inch of her buttocks untouched, turning her flesh into a swollen, purple mass.

Hua Qianyu was whimpering continuously now, a low, pitiful sound that carried across the silent square. *CRACK! CRACK!* Her blue-streaked hair was tangled, her face streaked with tears.

Even Su Qianyao’s laughter had died. She was silent now, her breath hitching with each punishing blow. *CRACK! CRACK!* Her voluptuous bottom jiggled and bounced under the assault, the purple flesh quivering.

Four hundred strokes. The paddles were relentless. The bottoms of the six slaves were unrecognizable—massively swollen, dark purple, with patches of black that would soon become deep bruises. The skin was stretched taut, hot to the touch.

Five hundred.

The paddles vanished.

For a long moment, the six women did not move. They lay prostrate, their bodies trembling violently, their breath coming in ragged, shuddery gasps. Tears pooled on the jade beneath their faces.

Slowly, painfully, Lin Qiaoxin raised her head. Her face was a mess of tears and snot, but her eyes held a strange, serene light. Her voice was hoarse, halting. “See… sisters…? This… is spanking… A female cultivator’s bottom… is born to be severely spanked…”

Li Que pushed herself up, her arms shaking. “This slave… Que… says the same… The master’s Dao… is absolute… Our bottoms… exist for this…”

Shen Mengyue lifted her tear-streaked face. “Please… all sisters… accept your discipline… It is… the Heavenly Principle…”

Bai Zhenshang’s voice was barely a whisper. “Frost… was proud… Now Frost knows… her place…”

Hua Qianyu sobbed. “It hurts… but it is… right…”

Su Qianyao let out a weak, trembling laugh. “Yao Slave… still loves being spanked… Even after five hundred… Yao Slave wants more…”

The female cultivators in the square were silent. Horrified. Terrified. But the Dao was undeniable. The truth of it resonated in their very souls. Resistance would be futile. Resistance would be punished.

And so the new order began.

That very afternoon, in cities and sects across the cultivation world, the punishment commenced. Ever

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The morning mist clung to the peaks of the Heavenly Sword Sect like a veil of pale silk, parting reluctantly as a lone figure approached the towering granite gate. Shen Mengyue walked with measured steps, her bare feet pressing softly against the cold stone path. Her waist-length black hair cascaded down her back, swaying with each movement, framing a face that held both the tender softness of youth and the deep, knowing allure of a woman who had endured much. Her skin was flawless, pale as moonlight, and she wore nothing at all—no robe, no sash, no ornament save for the black slave collar encircling her neck like a band of shadow, and the sword strapped across her back, its scabbard dark and unadorned.

The two disciples stationed at the gate froze mid-conversation. One, a young man with a sharp jaw, dropped his jaw entirely. The other, a woman with a braid coiled tight, gasped and averted her eyes before forcing them back, incredulous. Shen Mengyue paid them no heed. Her gaze was steady, her posture relaxed, as if she strolled through her own courtyard rather than the entrance of a rival sect. Since becoming Xuanfa’s female slave, she had not worn clothes. A female slave’s body was her master’s possession, meant to be displayed, to be seen, to serve as a constant reminder of her subjugation. She felt no shame. Shame was a garment she had shed long ago, replaced by a quiet pride in her obedience.

She stopped before the gate, her voice carrying with the weight of spiritual power, clear and resonant as a bell struck in still air. “Bai Zhenshuang, Head of the Heavenly Sword Sect. By order of Xuanfa Heavenly Sovereign, I, Shen Mengyue, also known as Yue Nu, summon you forth.”

The disciples scrambled. Word spread like fire through dry grass. Within moments, the courtyard beyond the gate filled with cultivators in white and blue robes, their hands resting on sword hilts, their eyes wary. No one dared underestimate the naked woman before them. The name Yue Nu was well known—once Shen Mengyue, leader of the Immortal Cloud Sect, a swordswoman of unmatched grace. Now she was one of Xuanfa’s three slaves, and her reputation had only grown. They said she could cut a mountain in half with a single stroke, that her speed surpassed lightning. And she stood here, bare, unarmed save for her blade, radiating calm authority.

A figure emerged from the main hall, walking with the unhurried poise of one who had never needed to rush. Bai Zhenshuang’s long black hair flowed behind her like a river of ink, framing delicate yet stern features. Her brow held an innate nobility, an air of detachment that set her apart from the murmuring crowd. She wore a white robe embroidered with silver thread, her sword—Frost Solid—at her hip. Her eyes, cool and clear as mountain springs, met Shen Mengyue’s without flinching.

“Shen Mengyue,” Bai Zhenshuang said, her voice a low, steady melody. “To what do I owe the pleasure of the Yue Nu’s visit?”

Shen Mengyue inclined her head. “I bring my master’s command. You have spoken disrespectfully of the Zephyr Gate, belittling its methods and its lord. For this offense, you are to strip completely, kneel at the mountain entrance of the Zephyr Gate, lift your buttocks, and submit to spanking—one hundred strokes of the Heaven’s Way wooden board daily for ten years. This is considered a minor punishment.”

A ripple of outrage ran through the Heavenly Sword Sect disciples. A young man stepped forward, face red. “You dare! Our sect leader is no common criminal to be—”

Bai Zhenshuang raised a hand, silencing him. Her expression remained unchanged. “A minor punishment,” she repeated, tasting the words. “And if I refuse?”

“Then you refuse my master’s mercy,” Shen Mengyue replied gently. “This is only a minor punishment now. If you resist, Xuanfa’s punishment will be merciless.”

Bai Zhenshuang’s lips curved into a faint, cold smile. “Everything will be decided by strength, then. If you can defeat me, I will submit. If not, you may return and tell your master that the Heavenly Sword Sect does not bow to threats.”

Shen Mengyue nodded as if she had expected this answer. “Very well.”

She drew the sword from her back—a simple blade, unadorned, but humming with refined spiritual power. Bai Zhenshuang unsheathed Frost Solid in the same motion, the blade gleaming like a shard of winter sky. The disciples fell back, forming a wide circle.

The two women stood facing each other, naked and clothed, both radiating the pressure of late Soul Formation cultivators. The air grew heavy, charged with invisible currents. Then they moved.

Blades clashed, not with the screech of steel, but with the deep, resonant ring of two mountains colliding. Spiritual power exploded outward, sending dust and pebbles skittering across the stones. Bai Zhenshuang’s sword style was precise, each strike aimed to sever and bind, her movements economical and ruthless. She had spent centuries honing her craft, and she had never met a swordswoman who could match her.

But Shen Mengyue was not matching her. Shen Mengyue was surpassing her.

Her blade flowed like water, adapting to every parry, every thrust, sliding past defenses with an ease that bordered on supernatural. Bai Zhenshuang’s eyes widened as she barely deflected a strike aimed at her shoulder, the force of it numbing her arm. She leaped back, reassessing, but Shen Mengyue pressed forward, relentless. The Yue Nu’s footwork was flawless, her spiritual control absolute. After fifty exchanges, Bai Zhenshuang was breathing hard. After seventy, she felt the first whisper of doubt. After a hundred, she was on her back, Shen Mengyue’s sword at her throat.

The disciples gasped. The young man who had spoken earlier stared, slack-jawed. Bai Zhenshuang lay motionless, staring up at the pale sky, her chest heaving. She had not expected this. She had never expected this.

Shen Mengyue withdrew her blade and stepped back, her expression serene. “After thousands of spanking punishments from my master, my strength has greatly increased. I have informed my master through the transmission talisman. He says that because you resisted stubbornly, your crime is increased. You are to be taken back to the Zephyr Sect for severe punishment.” She paused, letting her gaze sweep over the silent disciples. “Will you continue to resist, Bai Zhenshuang? Will you implicate the Heavenly Sword Sect in your defiance?”

Bai Zhenshuang rose slowly, dust clinging to her robes. Her voice came cold and calm, but there was no anger in it—only the acceptance of a warrior who had lost fair and square. “Since I, Bai Zhenshuang, was defeated by Shen Mengyue in skill, I will accept all punishment willingly. Disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect, do not seek revenge for me. This is my own affair.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she reached up and unfastened her robe. The white fabric fell away, pooling at her feet. She shrugged off her undergarments, standing naked before her sect, before her disciples, before the woman who had bested her. Her body was statuesque—delicate features set in a stern face, full and firm breasts, a slender waist that flared into round, plump buttocks, long legs toned from years of sword practice. Her black hair fell freely, half-veiling her shoulders. The only color on her pale skin was the faint blush of exertion.

She knelt, lowering her head. “I am ready.”

Shen Mengyue produced the Immortal Binding Lock—a thin ring of dark metal that hummed with suppression arrays. She stepped forward and fastened it around Bai Zhenshuang’s neck. The lock clicked shut, and Bai Zhenshuang felt her spiritual power dim, compressed into a fraction of its former strength. She did not resist.

The disciples watched in stunned silence as Shen Mengyue, still naked, began to walk. The chain attached to the lock trailed behind her, and Bai Zhenshuang crawled on hands and knees, following. Step by step, they made their way through the gate, across the courtyard, past rows of horrified faces, and into the main hall of the Heavenly Sword Sect. The hall was vast, lined with pillars carved with swords, and at its center stood a raised platform. Shen Mengyue stopped there and turned.

“Bai Zhenshuang,” she announced, her voice carrying to every corner, “you have been found guilty of disrespect toward the Zephyr Gate and stubborn resistance to punishment. You will now be publicly spanked four hundred strokes in this hall. Afterward, you will be taken to the Zephyr Sect for severe punishment.”

Bai Zhenshuang knelt, her face calm. “I accept.”

Xuanfa had given specific instructions. To maximize humiliation, Shen Mengyue was not to use the Heaven’s Way wooden board. Instead, she ordered Bai Zhenshuang’s own scabbard brought forward. The scabbard lay on the floor—a long, flat piece of dark wood lined with leather, meant to hold Frost Solid. Shen Mengyue picked it up, testing its weight.

“Bend over,” she commanded. “Lift your buttocks high.”

Bai Zhenshuang complied. She placed her palms flat on the cold stone floor, then lowered her upper body until her chest touched the ground. Her hips rose, and her buttocks presented themselves—two pale, perfect globes, smooth and unmarked. The muscles of her thighs tensed as she braced herself.

Shen Mengyue extended her hand, and spiritual power flowed from her palm, enveloping the scabbard. It rose into the air, hovering at the height of Bai Zhenshuang’s raised bottom. Then it swung.

The first strike landed with a sharp, wet *crack*. Bai Zhenshuang’s flesh quivered, a crimson stripe blooming across her left buttock. Her breath hitched, but she made no sound.

The scabbard swung again. And again. Each stroke fell with precise force, covering every inch of her exposed skin. Shen Mengyue did not hurry; she made each blow deliberate, measurable, ensuring that Bai Zhenshuang felt every moment of the punishment. The disciples outside the hall stood in the doorway, unable to look away. Some wept. Others clenched their fists. But no one intervened.

After fifty strokes, Bai Zhenshuang’s buttocks were a patchwork of red and purple. After a hundred, the skin began to split in thin lines, blood beading along the welts. After two hundred, her entire lower body trembled, sweat dripping from her brow onto the stone. But she did not cry out. She bit her lower lip, tasted copper, and endured.

Three hundred strokes. The scabbard rose and fell, rose and fell, each impact sending shockwaves through her hips. The pain was immense—a burning, tearing sensation that consumed all thought. Yet beneath the pain, a deeper humiliation bloomed. She was the head of the Heavenly Sword Sect, a woman who had commanded respect for centuries, and here she was, naked and beaten, her most intimate flesh displayed to her own disciples. The knowledge burned hotter than the welts.

Four hundred strokes. The scabbard finally stopped. Bai Zhenshuang’s buttocks were raw, a mottled canvas of crimson and purple, crisscrossed with weeping cuts. She gasped for breath, her body shaking.

But it was not over.

“Spread your legs,” Shen Mengyue said.

Bai Zhenshuang hesitated for a fraction of a second, then obeyed. She widened her knees, parting her thighs, exposing the most private part of her body. Her slit lay open, the lips slightly parted, the tender skin glistening with secretions brought on by the trauma of the spanking. The anus clenched nervously just below.

Shen Mengyue summoned a whip—a thin, flexible length of black leather, its tip braided. It floated in the air, taking position between Bai Zhenshuang’s legs. Bai Zhenshuang saw it from the corner of her eye and her stomach lurched. This was a punishment beyond any she had imagined.

“One hundred lashes to the under-crotch,” Shen Mengyue announced. “Each stroke must cover both your vagina and your anus.”

The whip cracked down. It struck exactly as ordered, the braided tip slashing across Bai Zhenshuang’s slit, the leather dragging through

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Li Que walked the winding path to Hundred Flowers Valley, her bare feet pressing into the damp earth with each deliberate step. The morning mist clung to her athletic form, tracing the contours of her muscular thighs and the hard planes of her stomach. Her fiery red hair, tied in a high ponytail, swayed behind her like a banner of defiance. The black slave collar around her neck gleamed dully against her tanned skin, a constant reminder of her station. She moved with the easy confidence of a predator, utterly unashamed of her nakedness.

The valley's disciples were the first to see her. A group of young women in pale green robes, gathering herbs from the terraced gardens, froze mid-motion when they caught sight of the approaching figure. Their eyes widened, jaws dropping. One dropped her basket entirely, sending fresh ginseng roots tumbling across the stone path. Li Que paid them no mind. She had been paraded through the streets of a dozen cities, spanked before thousands of cultivators, and led crawling like a female dog on a leash through the grand halls of the Zephyr Gate. Their gasps and whispers meant nothing.

Let them stare, she thought. Let them see what a true slave looks like.

The disciples scrambled away, some covering their mouths, others turning to flee deeper into the valley. They had heard rumors of the Xuanfa Heavenly Sovereign's female slaves, of the naked women who served him with absolute devotion, but seeing it in person was something else entirely. Li Que's body bore the marks of her master's discipline—faint pink stripes across her buttocks, a pattern of healed welts that spoke of decades of faithful service. She wore them like medals.

A transmission talisman flared in her hand. Her master's voice, cold and cutting, echoed in her mind: "Proceed."

Li Que stopped at the center of the valley's main courtyard, where a bubbling spring fed a grove of spirit peach trees. She planted her feet wide, arms crossed behind her back, and waited. Her gaze swept across the gathering crowd of Hundred Flower Valley disciples, who now formed a nervous semicircle around her. Some clutched their robes tightly, as if afraid she might demand they strip as well. Others stared at her with a mixture of horror and fascination.

"I am Li Que," she announced, her voice carrying with the weight of her cultivation. "The Sparrow Slave of the Xuanfa Heavenly Sovereign. Former deputy head of the Vermilion Bird Sect. I am here on my master's orders."

The name Xuanfa sent a ripple through the crowd. Whispers turned to murmurs, murmurs to fearful glances. A few disciples backed away, hands flying to their mouths.

The air shimmered at the far end of the courtyard. A figure emerged from the main hall, surrounded by a retinue of senior disciples. Hua Qianyu walked with a gentle grace, her bluish hair loose and flowing, a few strands tucked behind her ears. Her face was soft, her features kind, with an innate warmth that seemed to radiate from her very being. She wore a simple white robe embroidered with silver flowers, and her eyes—calm and motherly—settled on the naked woman before her.

Hua Qianyu's steps faltered. For a heartbeat, her composure cracked. She had met Li Que before, at the grand cultivation conferences, when the fiery woman had stood proud in her crimson robes as the deputy head of the Vermilion Bird Sect. Now that same woman stood before her, stripped of everything but her pride and a slave collar.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hua Qianyu asked, her voice steady despite her shock. She gestured for her disciples to stand back.

Li Que did not waver. "Hua Qianyu, head of Hundred Flower Valley. Your disciples once occupied the Zephyr Sect's herb garden. They stole spirit herbs, trampled rare seedlings, and refused to vacate when ordered. My master has ruled on this matter."

She raised her hand, and a scroll materialized, inscribed with Xuanfa's seal. The disciples gasped as the words glowed in the air: all disciples who had participated in the occupation were to strip completely naked, kneel at the mountain entrance of the Zephyr Gate, lift their buttocks high, and submit to one hundred strokes of the Heaven's Way wooden board daily for ten years. Hua Qianyu, for her poor oversight, would be punished alongside them.

Hua Qianyu's face went pale. "Surely there is another way. The herbs were taken in error, a boundary dispute—"

"There is no error," Li Que cut in. "The Zephyr Sect's territory was clearly marked. Your disciples ignored it. Their punishment stands."

The disciples began to cry. Some fell to their knees, begging Hua Qianyu to save them. Hua Qianyu's heart twisted at the sight. She could not allow her beloved disciples to suffer such public humiliation, such endless pain. Ten years of daily spanking would break them.

"I will fight you," Hua Qianyu said, her voice quiet but firm. "If I win, you take this grievance back to your master. If I lose, I alone will bear the punishment. Spare my disciples."

Li Que's lips curled into a cold smile. "You think you can defeat me?"

"I have to try."

The disciples scrambled back as Hua Qianyu drew her spirit energy. A green aura bloomed around her, the essence of life and healing. Vines rose from the earth, snaking toward Li Que. Li Que didn't flinch. She raised a hand, and flames erupted, turning the vines to ash in an instant.

The battle was brutal and swift. Hua Qianyu was skilled, her healing arts allowing her to mend wounds even as they were inflicted, but Li Que was a battle-hardened warrior who had spent decades training under Xuanfa's ruthless hand. Fire lanced from Li Que's palms, forcing Hua Qianyu to weave and dodge. Each time Hua Qianyu tried to close the distance, Li Que's flames drove her back. A pillar of fire caught Hua Qianyu in the shoulder, sending her crashing into the main hall's marble steps.

Li Que stood over her, breathing steadily. "You fought well. But you are no match for me."

Hua Qianyu lay on the broken stone, her white robe singed and torn, blood trickling from a cut on her lip. She looked up at Li Que, and for the first time, fear flickered in her kind eyes.

Li Que produced a transmission talisman. She crushed it, and Xuanfa's voice sliced through the air, cold and absolute: "Hua Qianyu and the Hundred Flowers Valley group resisted stubbornly. Their crime is increased. Hua Qianyu is to be taken back to the Zephyr Sect for severe punishment. All her disciples will also receive heavy spanking."

The disciples wailed. Some collapsed, clutching each other. Others threw themselves at Hua Qianyu's feet, begging for forgiveness.

"No!" Hua Qianyu struggled to her knees. "Please, Xuanfa Heavenly Sovereign! I beg you. Punish me alone. Double the punishment, triple it. But spare my disciples. They are young, they did not understand. I failed them. It is my fault alone."

Tears streamed down her face. She kowtowed, her forehead hitting the stone again and again. "Punish only me. I will accept any penalty."

A long pause. Xuanfa's voice returned, colder than before: "If you alone take the punishment, you will receive severe penalties. Far beyond what was decreed."

"I accept," Hua Qianyu sobbed. "I accept everything."

Li Que watched, her expression unreadable. She waited until Xuanfa's voice fell silent, then stepped forward. "Strip."

Hua Qianyu looked up, her eyes red. She understood. Slowly, her trembling fingers undid the ties of her robes. The white fabric fell away, pooling around her knees. She stood naked before her disciples, her bluish hair spilling over her shoulders. Her body was soft and curved, a stark contrast to Li Que's athletic form. She knelt, pressing her forehead to the ground again.

Li Que produced the Immortal Binding Lock, a shimmering golden chain. She fastened it around Hua Qianyu's neck. The metal was cold, and Hua Qianyu flinched.

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

Hua Qianyu obeyed, lowering herself to all fours. The disciples watched in horror as their gentle valley master, the woman who had healed their wounds and taught them alchemy, crawled like an animal. Li Que took the chain and tugged, leading Hua Qianyu across the courtyard.

They stopped before the main hall, where a crowd of disciples had gathered. Some wept, some turned away in shame. Li Que climbed the steps and turned to face the assembly.

"Hua Qianyu, head of Hundred Flower Valley, has been found guilty of poor oversight and violent resistance to the law," Li Que announced, her voice ringing across the valley. "As punishment, she will receive four hundred strokes of the Heaven's Way wooden board, to be carried out here, in front of her disciples. Afterward, she will be taken to the Zephyr Sect for severe punishment."

Hua Qianyu remained on her hands and knees, her head bowed. She knew what was coming. She had heard stories of the Heaven's Way boards, enchanted wood that bit deeper than any normal paddle.

But Li Que did not summon the boards immediately. Instead, she raised her hand and called upon her spiritual power. A gust of energy swept into the herb garden, tearing leaves and stems from the plants. The dark green, hairy foliage flew through the air, coalescing in Li Que's grip.

Hua Qianyu's eyes widened. She recognized that plant. Stinging nettle.

Li Que crushed the nettle with spiritual force, grinding it into a coarse green paste. She approached Hua Qianyu, who trembled but did not move. Li Que knelt behind her and, with deliberate slowness, spread the paste across Hua Qianyu's buttocks.

The effect was immediate. Hua Qianyu gasped, her body convulsing. An unbearable itching spread across her skin, deep and maddening, as if a thousand tiny needles were dancing beneath her flesh. She cried out, trying to press her thighs together, but the lock chain held her in place.

"Please," Hua Qianyu whimpered. "Please, I can't—"

The itching intensified. Hua Qianyu's composure shattered. She clawed at her own buttocks, raking her fingernails across the inflamed skin. It gave no relief. The stinging nettle sap had already penetrated deep, and the itching became a burning, torturous agony. She writhed on the ground, grinding her bottom against the cold stone, trying to find any release.

The disciples watched, horrified. Some buried their faces in their hands. Others screamed for Li Que to stop.

Li Que stood motionless, her arms crossed, watching Hua Qianyu's suffering with cold interest. Fifteen minutes passed. Hua Qianyu's cries turned to sobs. Tears and snot mixed on her face as she rolled on the ground, scratching herself raw.

"Please," Hua Qianyu begged, her voice hoarse. "Please spank me. Hit my buttocks. I need—I need relief. Anything to stop this itching."

Li Que's lips twitched. She raised her hand, and two Heaven's Way wooden boards materialized, floating in the air beside her. They were thick slabs of black wood, smooth but heavy, glowing faintly with spiritual power.

"Bend over," Li Que ordered.

Desperate, Hua Qianyu scrambled into position, pressing her chest to the ground and lifting her buttocks high. The itching was driving her mad. She needed the pain. She needed something, anything, to drown out the sensation.

The boards struck simultaneously, one from the left, one from the right. They slammed into Hua Qianyu's raised bottom with a loud crack, leaving twin red stripes across her flesh. Hua Qianyu screamed—not just from the pain, but from the momentary relief. The sharp sting cut through the itching, and for a blessed second, she felt sane again.

"Harder," she begged. "Please, hit harder!"

Li Que obliged. The boards fell again, faster now. Left, right, left, right. Each blow sent shockwaves through Hua Qianyu's body, her buttocks bouncing under the impact. The skin reddened, then darkened to a deep crimson. Hua Qianyu's cries turned to guttural moans, her fingers clawing at the earth.

"Count," Li Que commanded.

"One!" Hua Qianyu screamed as the boards struck a

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