Punishment of the Heavenly Lord Xuanfa: Part Two

The morning sun cast long shadows across the stone paths of the Zephyr Phoenix Sect as Xuanfa walked slowly, three black leather leashes in his hand. At the other end of those leashes, crawling on hands and knees, were Shen Mengyue, Lin Qiaoxin, and Li Que. Their naked bodies gleamed with a subtle sheen of oil, their black slave collars catching the light. Their breasts swayed with each crawling step, their buttocks raised high in the air, moving with the rhythm of docile animals.

Disciples of the sect who passed by would bow their heads respectfully, but none dared to stare. They had long grown accustomed to the sight of their three Grand Elders crawling naked at the master's feet. Yet each of them knew that behind the closed doors of the training halls, these three women were legends—the terrifying Heart Slave, Sparrow Slave, and Moon Slave who could crush any cultivator who dared to challenge the Zehuang Gate.

Xuanfa stopped at a pavilion overlooking the sect's central plaza. He sat down on a stone bench, and the three women immediately crawled to his feet, pressing their foreheads to the ground.

"You three have broken through to the late Divinity Transformation stage, correct?" Xuanfa's voice was flat, as if commenting on the weather.

Lin Qiaoxin lifted her head first, a playful grin on her youthful face despite her naked and submissive posture. "Thanks to our master's severe spanking of our butts and the spiritual energy of the Xuantian Realm, we were able to break through to the late Divinity Transformation stage in three hundred years." She spoke the words with genuine gratitude, her eyes shining.

Shen Mengyue nodded gracefully, her long black hair pooling on the ground. "Without the master's discipline, I would still be stuck at the mid-stage bottleneck. Every strike of the Heavenly Dao plank reshaped my spiritual channels."

Li Que, her fiery red hair tied in a high ponytail that now dragged on the stone, added in her proud voice, "The burning pain on my buttocks became the fire that tempered my cultivation. I am grateful for every punishment."

Xuanfa's lips curved into a faint smile. "Now that you've broken through, I have a task for you three." He reached into his storage ring and pulled out three golden ropes that shimmered with an ethereal light—Immortal Binding Locks. "Bai Zhenshuang, the sect master of the Heavenly Sword Sect, has been disrespectful to my Zephyr Phoenix Sect in her words. Hua Qianyu, the valley master of the Hundred Flowers Valley, had her disciples occupy the herb garden of my Zephyr Phoenix Sect. Su Qianyao, the saintess of the Demon Clan, used charm techniques to bewitch the disciples of my Zephyr Phoenix Sect."

He tossed the ropes onto the ground before them. "You three go notify Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao: they must voluntarily remove all their clothes, kneel at the mountain entrance of the Zephyr Phoenix Sect, present their buttocks, and receive punishment. One hundred strikes of the Heavenly Dao plank on their buttocks daily for ten years will be considered a minor punishment. If they resist, defeat them in battle and then bind them back with these Immortal Binding Locks."

Lin Qiaoxin's eyes sparkled with mischief. She crawled forward and pressed her lips to Xuanfa's foot. "Master, since we have already broken through to the late Divinity Transformation stage, we request an increase in our daily number of buttock strikes to four hundred."

Li Que and Shen Mengyue immediately echoed the request, their foreheads touching the ground.

Xuanfa let out a soft chuckle. "So you've fallen in love with the feeling of being spanked, huh?"

Lin Qiaoxin giggled. "There's nothing in this world that compares to the sting of the master's punishment on our backsides. It reminds us who we belong to."

Shen Mengyue's voice was gentle but firm. "The pain becomes pleasure when it comes from your hand, master."

Li Que nodded sharply. "Each strike strengthens my loyalty. I crave it now."

Xuanfa's expression remained unreadable, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Once this mission is completed, I will increase your punishment. For now, let's first finish today's punishment."

He raised his hand, and three young women emerged from the pavilion's inner chamber. They walked with graceful steps, their naked bodies bare, black slave collars around their necks. Each bore an eighty percent resemblance to the three kneeling elders—Lin Yuxin, Li Yunling, and Shen Xingmian.

The three young women knelt before Xuanfa in perfect unison. "Greetings, master."

"Your mothers' butts are itchy," Xuanfa said with a slight smirk. "Now take the Heavenly Dao planks and spank their butts, two hundred strikes each. After that, make them spread their legs and whip their perineum one hundred times."

Lin Yuxin, Li Yunling, and Shen Xingmian bowed their heads. "Yes, master."

They moved behind their respective mothers, each picking up a heavy Heavenly Dao plank from a rack nearby. The planks were made of black jade-like wood, inscribed with spiritual runes that hummed with power.

Lin Yuxin approached Lin Qiaoxin, who had already positioned herself—kneeling with her upper body pressed flat to the ground, her buttocks raised high and spread wide. Lin Qiaoxin's voice was cheerful as she called back to her daughter, "Xin'er, make sure you hit the same spot each time. The pain builds better that way. And aim for the lower curve where it meets the thigh—that's the most tender."

Lin Yuxin nodded seriously, positioning the plank. "Like this, mother?" She swung the plank with practiced precision, and a sharp crack echoed through the pavilion. Lin Qiaoxin's body jolted, a moan escaping her lips.

"Yes, exactly like that! Harder! Don't be gentle with your mother, or I won't feel a thing!"

Shen Mengyue had also positioned herself with her buttocks raised elegantly. She spoke to Shen Xingmian in a calm, motherly tone. "Xingmian, remember to use your spiritual energy to enhance the strike. A Heavenly Dao plank should leave the buttocks purple and swollen after just ten strikes. If you do it right, by the fiftieth strike, I shouldn't be able to sit for a week."

Shen Xingmian's face was focused as she raised the plank. "I understand, mother. Shall I alternate left and right cheeks?"

"Yes, but focus more on the left. It has been healing too quickly lately."

Shen Xingmian brought the plank down with a resounding smack. Shen Mengyue gasped, but her body remained still, accepting the punishment.

Li Que was the most intense. She knelt with her back arched, her muscular buttocks taut. She barked orders at Li Yunling. "Don't hold back, girl! I want to feel this for days. If I can walk without limping after this, I'll punish you myself later."

Li Yunling's face showed no fear. "I will not disappoint you, mother." She swung the plank with full force, her golden core cultivation fueling the strike. The sound was like thunder. Li Que let out a grunt of satisfaction.

"Yes! That's the strength! Again!"

The pavilion filled with the rhythmic crack of planks striking flesh. Each mother guided her daughter, teaching them the precise angles and force needed to maximize pain. Lin Qiaoxin laughed between strikes. "Oh, that spot! Right there! You're learning fast, Xin'er!"

Shen Mengyue's voice remained gentle, even as her buttocks turned from pink to red to purple. "Remember, Xingmian, the perineum strikes afterward are more delicate. You must use a whip with just enough force to cover both the cunt and the anus without injuring the bone."

Li Que's instructions were shorter and harsher. "Lower. Harder. Again."

After two hundred strikes, the three mothers' buttocks were swollen into purple mounds, crisscrossed with deep red welts. They remained in position, legs spread apart.

The daughters exchanged the planks for leather whips. Lin Yuxin knelt between Lin Qiaoxin's legs, positioning the whip. "Ready, mother?"

"Always ready, my darling."

The whip cracked across Lin Qiaoxin's perineum, covering both her labia and anus in one stroke. She cried out, but it was a cry of pleasure mixed with pain. "Again!"

Shen Xingmian was more methodical, delivering each stroke with careful precision. Shen Mengyue's body trembled but she made no sound beyond soft gasps. "Good girl. Very precise."

Li Yunling's strokes were fierce and fast. Li Que's breath came in harsh pants, but she never flinched. "Don't stop. Keep going."

One hundred lashes later, the three mothers lay panting on the ground, their private parts swollen and red, their buttocks completely ruined. Yet their faces held expressions of deep satisfaction, and between their legs, evidence of their arousal glistened.

Xuanfa observed silently, then nodded. "Now the punishment for Lin Yuxin, Li Yunling, and Shen Xingmian."

The three young women immediately knelt, raising their buttocks in the air. Xuanfa waved his hand, and six Profound Wood planks appeared, floating in the air. Unlike the Heavenly Dao planks, these were made of dark brown wood, still formidable but less severe.

"One hundred strokes each," Xuanfa said.

Lin Qiaoxin crawled over to where Lin Yuxin knelt. She placed a hand on her daughter's back, stroking gently. "Listen to me, Xin'er. As a female slave, you must accept all punishments and humiliations from your master and take pride in it. Every strike on your buttocks is a mark of your loyalty. When the pain comes, don't resist it. Embrace it. Let it fill you with gratitude."

Lin Yuxin nodded, her eyes closed. "I understand, mother."

The first plank struck her right buttock. She gasped but held still.

Shen Mengyue approached Shen Xingmian, kneeling beside her. "Xingmian, look at me."

Shen Xingmian turned her head, her eyes meeting her mother's gentle gaze.

"The pain will pass," Shen Mengyue said softly. "But the lesson remains. You are property. You belong to the master. Every punishment shapes you into a better slave. Be grateful for each strike."

"Yes, mother."

The planks continued to fall in alternating rhythm. Left, right, left, right.

Li Que gripped Li Yunling's chin, forcing her to meet her fierce gaze. "You are my daughter. You are strong. This pain is nothing. It is a gift. Without the master's discipline, we would be nothing. Remember that."

Li Yunling's voice was steady. "I remember, mother."

The hundred strokes were delivered with mechanical precision. By the end, the three young women's buttocks were bright red and swollen, but the damage was superficial compared to their mothers'.

Xuanfa raised his hand. The air around them shimmered, and a warm light enveloped the six women. The healing formation of the Xuantian Realm activated. The wounds on their buttocks began to close, the purple swelling fading to red, the red fading to pink. But the pain lingered—a deep, throbbing ache that would stay with them for hours.

Lin Qiaoxin sighed contentedly as the healing formation worked. "Thank you, master, for the punishment."

Shen Mengyue bowed her head gracefully. "I am grateful for every strike."

Li Que's voice was gruff but sincere. "Your discipline is our greatest blessing."

Lin Yuxin, Li Yunling, and Shen Xingmian echoed their mothers' gratitude.

Xuanfa stood, brushing off his black training clothes. "Prepare yourselves. In three days, you will deliver my message to Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao. Do not fail me."

"We will not fail you, master," the six women said in unison.

Xuanfa turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the morning light. Behind him, the three mothers and three daughters remained kneeling, their naked bodies still trembling with the lingering sting of punishment, their hearts full of unwavering loyalty.

The demon clan’s personal guard arrived at the mountain pass of Zehuang Gate with swift precision. Over sixty cultivators, fully armed and battle-ready, marched in disciplined formation. At their head was a woman named A Zi, a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator with sharp eyes and a commanding presence. Behind her, the rest of the guard were all at Nascent Soul late stage, each one hardened by years of service. They had spent decades perfecting a combined attack technique, a formation of synchronized strikes that could challenge three or even four Divinity Transformation cultivators at once.

A Zi’s gaze swept across the mountain pass, and her blood ran cold. There, kneeling in the dirt with her hands bound behind her back by thick chains, was Su Qianyao—the Saintess of the Demon Clan, the silver-haired enchantress who had led them for centuries. Her naked body was exposed to the mountain wind, her pale skin gleaming under the sun. Her buttocks were raised high, presented like an offering to the heavens.

A Zi’s fury ignited like wildfire. She raised her hand, and a transmission jade flew from her palm, streaking toward the gate of Zehuang Gate. Her voice crackled with rage as she spoke into the formation. “Release the Saintess at once! You dare to humiliate the demon clan’s holy one? You will face the full wrath of our tribes!”

The mountain pass remained silent for a long moment. Then, two figures slowly emerged from the mist-shrouded gate.

Bai Zhenshuang walked first, her long black hair cascading down her back, her delicate and cold features set in an expression of calm indifference. Her body was naked, every curve exposed without shame. Her full, firm chest rose and fell with each step. Her slender waist tapered to hips that were round and full, legs long and shapely. She moved with the grace of a sword immortal, but her nakedness stripped away all pretense of authority. Beside her walked Hua Qianyu, her cyan hair loosely tied, a few strands falling by her ears. Her face was gentle as water, soft and delicate, with a natural warmth in her brows and eyes. Her figure was full and proportionate, her breasts heavy, her hips wide. She too was completely naked, and she carried herself with the same calm dignity as if she were wearing the finest robes.

The demon guard stared, frozen in shock. These were not common women. Bai Zhenshuang was the master of the Heavenly Sword Sect, a peerless sword immortal who had never bowed to anyone. Hua Qianyu was the valley master of Hundred Flowers Valley, a medicine immortal whose healing arts were legendary. And here they stood, naked, wearing black slave collars around their necks, walking out of the gate of Zehuang Gate as if they belonged there.

A Zi’s shock turned to fury. “Bai Zhenshuang! Hua Qianyu! What is the meaning of this? The Heavenly Sword Sect and Hundred Flowers Valley have allied with this demon sect? You shameless women!”

Bai Zhenshuang stopped a few paces away, her cold eyes fixing on A Zi. “You are mistaken. I am no longer the master of the Heavenly Sword Sect. Thanks to the favor of Celestial Lord Xuanfa, I have been accepted as a female slave, given the name Shuang Nu. I receive spanking punishment every day.”

Hua Qianyu smiled gently, her voice soft and melodic. “I am no longer the head of the Hundred Flowers Valley either. I thank Celestial Lord Xuanfa for granting me the position of female slave, given the name Yu Nu. I must receive spanking punishment daily.” She turned her gaze to the kneeling Su Qianyao. “And your Saintess Su Qianyao is here voluntarily.”

The words struck the demon guard like a thunderclap. A Zi’s face twisted with rage. “Lies! You have been bewitched by that demon Xuanfa! Saintess, we are here to rescue you!”

Su Qianyao did not respond. Her silver hair spilled forward, hiding her face, but her body trembled slightly. Her raised buttocks were already marked with faint red stripes, the first strokes of her punishment having begun.

The guard could wait no longer. With a battle cry, they surged forward, weapons drawn, formations igniting.

Bai Zhenshuang’s hand went to her waist, where no sword hung. Instead, spiritual energy coalesced into a blade of frost, and she met the first wave of attackers with a sweeping strike. Ice crystals exploded across the ground, forcing the guards back. Hua Qianyu raised her palm, and green light blossomed into a net of living vines, entangling three guards at once and slamming them into the earth.

But the guard was well trained. The fifty-odd cultivators formed their combined attack formation, a swirling vortex of demonic energy that lashed out like a serpent. Bai Zhenshuang was forced to dodge, her naked body twisting through the air. Hua Qianyu raised a barrier of wood and spirit herbs, but the formation cracked it in moments.

The battle raged, but the sound of spanking cut through the chaos.

Each time the Heaven’s Path Board struck Su Qianyao’s bare buttocks, a wet, sharp slap echoed across the mountain pass. And each time, Su Qianyao moaned—a sound so seductive, so full of pleasure and pain, that it made the demon guard falter. Their eyes kept darting to their Saintess, who writhed on the ground, her silver hair spilling around her, her back arching with every stroke.

A Zi screamed, “Focus! Don’t let them—”

Another slap. Su Qianyao cried out, her body shuddering, and a thin line of something wet trickled down her inner thigh.

Bai Zhenshuang’s eyes narrowed. She seized the moment of distraction. With a burst of power, she drove her frozen blade through the formation’s weak point, shattering the vortex. Hua Qianyu followed with a wave of her hand, releasing a cloud of paralytic pollen that drifted through the guards’ ranks. One by one, they collapsed, limbs heavy and useless.

The battle was over.

A Zi struggled to rise, her legs trembling, her eyes fixed on Su Qianyao. The Saintess’s buttocks were purple and swollen, the skin split in places, blood and other fluids smearing her thighs. Su Qianyao lay on the ground, panting heavily, a dazed smile on her lips.

She lifted her head and looked at her guard. “Sisters of the guard,” she said, her voice strained but clear, “Yao Nu… really is here voluntarily. Yao Nu has always wanted someone to beat her buttocks raw.”

The guard stared in disbelief. Their Saintess, the proud and seductive holy one of the demon clan, was lying in the dirt, her ass beaten to a pulp, and she was smiling.

A Zi’s fury collapsed into hollow shock. She looked at Bai Zhenshuang, at Hua Qianyu, at Su Qianyao’s ruined backside. There was nothing more to do. The battle was lost. The Saintess’s will was not theirs to command.

“Withdraw,” A Zi said through gritted teeth.

The demon guard picked up their fallen and retreated down the mountain, leaving their Saintess behind.

Su Qianyao let out a long, shuddering sigh and closed her eyes.

Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu walked into the main hall of Zehuang Gate, still naked, their slave collars gleaming in the torchlight. They knelt before Xuanfa, who sat on a black throne, his expression impassive.

“The demon guard has been driven off,” Bai Zhenshuang reported. “They will not return.”

“Su Qianyao remains,” Hua Qianyu added. “She accepted her punishment fully.”

Xuanfa nodded slowly. “You have done well.”

The two women bowed their heads, waiting.

Xuanfa’s gaze swept over them. “The master of Azure Palace, Yun Qing’er, and the master of Nine Nether Valley, You Lan, have both allowed their disciples to clash with Zehuang Gate. They have failed in discipline. These minor sects have no Divinity Transformation cultivators, so a light punishment is appropriate.” His voice was cold, each word precise. “The two sect masters and all disciples who clashed with Zehuang Gate are to voluntarily strip naked, kneel at the mountain pass of Zehuang Gate, and present their buttocks for spanking. One hundred strokes of Heaven’s Path Board per day for three years. If they resist, the punishment will be severe.”

“Yes, Master,” Bai Zhenshuang and Hua Qianyu said in unison.

Bai Zhenshuang rose and left the hall. She walked out of Zehuang Gate, her naked body exposed to the world once more, and took to the skies. She reached Azure Palace within the hour.

The sect was a modest establishment, nestled among cloud-wreathed peaks. Its disciples saw her approach and froze. The legendary sword immortal, now completely naked, wearing only a black slave collar, walked through the gate of their sect as if it were her own home.

Bai Zhenshuang’s steps were measured, her posture perfect. Her long black hair swayed behind her, her full chest moved with each breath, her firm buttocks clenched and released with each stride. The disciples of Azure Palace stared in disbelief, their eyes wide with shock and confusion. Some of the male disciples were unable to look away, their gazes drawn to every curve, every bare inch of skin.

Bai Zhenshuang did not care. Her heart was filled with obedience to her master. She was Shuang Nu now, and displaying her naked body was not shame—it was service. She walked through the main gate, across the training yard, up the stone steps, and into the main hall where Yun Qing’er sat in conference with her elders.

Yun Qing’er was a woman of late Nascent Soul stage, with delicate features and long black hair, clad in robes of sky blue. She saw Bai Zhenshuang enter naked, and her face went pale as death.

“Sword Immortal Bai?” Yun Qing’er whispered.

Bai Zhenshuang’s cold eyes fixed on her. “I am no longer Sword Immortal Bai. I am Shuang Nu, female slave to Celestial Lord Xuanfa.” Her voice was sharp and clear, carrying through the hall. “Yun Qing’er, you allowed your disciples to clash with Zehuang Gate. The punishment is light: you and the offending disciples are to strip naked, go to the mountain pass of Zehuang Gate, and present your buttocks for spanking. One hundred strokes of Heaven’s Path Board per day for three years. If you resist, the punishment will be severe.”

Yun Qing’er trembled. The disciples behind her looked at each other in terror. Even the mighty Bai Zhenshuang had been broken, made into a naked slave. What chance did a small sect like Azure Palace have?

Yun Qing’er closed her eyes and let out a defeated breath. “I… I accept. We will go.”

Ten disciples came forward, shamefaced, and stripped off their robes under the stunned gaze of the entire sect. They stood naked, shivering. Bai Zhenshuang watched coldly as they filed out of the hall and began their walk to Zehuang Gate.

Her task done, Bai Zhenshuang turned and walked back the way she came, her naked body still on display for all to see.

Hua Qianyu’s journey to Nine Nether Valley was quieter, but no less impactful. She walked through the gate of the valley, her cyan hair flowing, her soft, full figure completely bare. The disciples of Nine Nether Valley stared in disbelief. They knew Hua Qianyu by reputation—the gentle healer, the valley master of Hundred Flowers Valley, a woman of mercy and kindness. Now she walked among them naked, wearing a slave collar, her head held high.

She reached the main hall, where You Lan was seated. You Lan was a woman of late Nascent Soul stage, with a slender build and serious eyes, dressed in robes of deep black. She saw Hua Qianyu and her face drained of color.

“Valley Master Hua?” You Lan breathed.

Hua Qianyu smiled gently, her voice warm but carrying the weight of a Divinity Transformation cultivator’s authority. “I am no longer Valley Master Hua. I am Yu Nu, female slave to Celestial Lord Xuanfa.” She stepped forward, her bare feet silent on the stone floor. “You Lan, you allowed your disciples to clash with Zehuang Gate. Celestial Lord Xuanfa, in his mercy, offers you a light punishment. Strip naked with your offending disciples, kneel at the mountain pass of Zehuang Gate, and present your buttocks for spanking. One hundred strokes of Heaven’s Path Board per day for three

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Chapter 11

The Xuantian Realm hummed with ambient spiritual energy as six naked women knelt in a perfect row before Xuanfa. The air was still, heavy with the weight of their presence and their devotion. Behind each of them, a black leather slave collar glinted dully against their throats, marking them as his possessions, his most loyal servants.

Xuanfa sat cross-legged on a raised platform of black jade, his expression unreadable, his black training robes immaculate. His eyes swept over the six kneeling before him—Lin Qiaoxin with her twin ponytails and mischievous grin, Li Que with her fiery red hair and proud bearing, Shen Mengyue with her long black hair cascading down her back and her gentle eyes, Bai Zhenshuang with her cold elegance and noble features, Hua Qianyu with her loose cyan hair and soft smile, and Su Qianyao with her silver hair and crimson eyes that sparkled with barely contained mischief.

Yue Nu reports first, Xuanfa said, his voice flat.

Shen Mengyue bowed her head slightly, her perky breasts swaying with the movement. This slave, Yue Nu, has been busy these past days. The disciples of the Zehuang Gate have made great progress in sword techniques. They can now execute the Azure Frost Sword Formation with seventy percent accuracy.

Xuanfa nodded. Continue.

Li Que spoke next, her voice firm. Que Nu has been training the disciples in combat. Their close-quarters techniques have improved. Three of them can now spar with Que Nu for ten breaths before being defeated.

Xin Nu has been teaching formations, Lin Qiaoxin chirped. The disciples have begun to grasp the basics of the Nine Palaces Confinement Formation. This slave even managed to teach a few of them how to set it up in under a hundred breaths.

Hua Qianyu spoke gently. Yu Nu has taught the disciples alchemy. They can now refine mid-grade Qi Replenishing Pills with a sixty percent success rate.

Bai Zhenshuang said coolly, Shuang Nu has overseen their sword intent comprehension. Three disciples have reached the initial stage of Sword Heart Enlightenment.

Su Qianyao licked her lips, her red eyes gleaming. Yao Nu took time to seduce a talented female cultivator named Nangong Xue. Her older sister is Nangong Wan, the master of the Crimson Flower Spirit Realm at the Divinity Transformation late stage. But Xue Mei has been resisting fiercely.

Li Que snorted, her pride flaring. Hand her over to Que Nu. Let me beat her buttocks to a pulp a few dozen times and see if she still talks tough.

Xuanfa raised a hand, and silence fell. You six have done well. From now on, you need not kneel when you meet me; a simple bow will suffice.

The six women blinked, then exchanged glances of surprise and flattery. Grace and favor, master, they said in unison, bowing their heads.

Xuanfa reached into his sleeve and produced six black belts, each about three fingers wide, made of a material that seemed to absorb light. These are magical tools made from the skin of the demon beast Ink Flood Dragon, called Shadow-Chasing Belts. By injecting spiritual power, they can automatically chase and spank, no matter what movement or posture you take; they never miss.

He paused, allowing the words to sink in. Though they are not as painful as the Heaven's Path Boards, they should suffice as additional punishment.

Su Qianyao's face lit up as she reached out to take one of the belts, her fingers tracing its smooth surface with evident delight. The master has given a wonderful treasure. Yao Nu's fat butt isn't satisfied with just four hundred strokes a day. Yao Nu will use the Shadow-Chasing Belt to beat this greedy ass of mine.

Lin Qiaoxin giggled, grabbing a belt of her own. So we can be spanked anytime? Great! This slave will make sure her buttocks never get a moment of peace.

Li Que wrapped the belt around her wrist, her expression fierce. Que Nu will use maximum spiritual power to drive the Shadow-Chasing Belt and beat her own buttocks raw. Only then will she remember her place.

Shen Mengyue bowed, her voice soft. This slave thanks the master for his generosity. Yue Nu will use this tool well to punish her own buttocks. Every stroke will remind her that she belongs to you.

Hua Qianyu smiled gently. Yu Nu will use this tool properly, ensuring her buttocks are in pain each day. Gratitude, master.

Bai Zhenshuang's cold eyes flickered with something akin to anticipation. Thank you for the gift. I will repay it with the punishment of my buttocks. I will definitely beat my own buttocks to a pulp.

Xuanfa watched them with a slight nod. You may leave.

The six women rose, each attaching their Shadow-Chasing Belt behind them. They injected a trickle of spiritual power into the belts, and immediately the belts came to life, rising into the air and hovering behind them. With a soft, insistent motion, the belts began to move, curving around to deliver a sharp smack to each of their own buttocks in perfect unison.

*SMACK*

Six identical sounds echoed through the Xuantian Realm, followed by the sight of six buttocks jiggling from the impact. The women barely reacted, their expressions unchanged as they bowed to Xuanfa and departed.

At the Zehuang Gate, the scene was one of disciplined chaos. The sect, hidden within a valley surrounded by mist-shrouded peaks, bustled with activity. Female cultivators of all ages and realms moved about, their bodies bare, their heads held high. No one wore clothes within the sect's boundaries—such was the rule of the Zehuang Gate, a rule that had been in place since its founding. The disciples practiced sword forms, sparred with each other, tended to spiritual herb gardens, and discussed alchemy and formations, all without a stitch of fabric to cover them.

On the main training grounds, Shen Mengyue stood at the front of a group of disciples, a wooden practice sword in her hand. Her long black hair flowed down her back as she demonstrated a sweeping cut, her body moving with fluid grace. Behind her, the Shadow-Chasing Belt hovered, then struck.

*SMACK*

The belt connected with her right buttock, sending a ripple across the flesh. Shen Mengyue's voice did not waver. This move requires you to channel your spiritual power three breaths before the strike. Watch again.

She demonstrated once more, her sword tracing an arc of light through the air. The belt struck again.

*SMACK*

Each time it hit, her buttocks jiggled and reddened, but her form remained perfect, her voice steady.

Nearby, Bai Zhenshuang taught another group, her piercing cold eyes scanning the disciples. Your sword intent must be sharper. You are not cutting bamboo; you are cutting the void itself.

*SMACK*

The belt slapped her full rear, leaving a pink mark across the pale skin. Bai Zhenshuang's expression remained impassive. Again.

*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*

The belt struck three times in rapid succession, each stroke landing on a different part of her buttocks. Her hips swayed slightly from the force, but she did not break her teaching stance.

At the combat arena, Li Que grappled with a disciple, her athletic body coiled and ready. She twisted, throwing the disciple to the ground, and the belt behind her immediately struck.

*SMACK*

Her firm buttocks rippled from the impact, the sound echoing off the arena walls. That was acceptable, she said, her voice flat. But your center of gravity was too high. Try again.

*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*

The belt delivered three more strokes, each one hard enough to send a shockwave through her thighs. Li Que did not flinch. She simply reset her stance and waited for the next disciple.

In the formation hall, Lin Qiaoxin arranged spirit stones on the floor, her youthful face concentrated. The belt behind her rose and struck.

*SMACK*

She giggled as her buttocks bounced from the blow. Oops, almost dropped the spirit stone. That was a good one, Shadow-Chaser. Keep it up.

*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*

The belt obliged, striking her three times in different spots. Her buttocks jiggled and reddened, the skin taking on a healthy pink hue. Lin Qiaoxin did not stop her work, her hands moving with precision as she completed the formation layout.

At the alchemy pavilion, Hua Qianyu stirred a cauldron, her face serene. She added a handful of medicinal herbs, and the belt behind her struck.

*SMACK*

The blow connected with the curve of her ample rear, sending a tremor through her thighs. She continued stirring, her voice soft as she instructed the disciples around her. You must add the Starfall Grass at the precise moment the flame turns blue. Not a breath sooner or later.

*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*

The belt delivered three more strokes, each one causing her buttocks to ripple and redden. Hua Qianyu's expression did not change. She simply adjusted the flame and continued working.

In the divine sense training room, Su Qianyao sat cross-legged, her silver hair flowing around her. She had a group of disciples seated before her, their eyes closed as they attempted to expand their spiritual perception. The belt behind her rose and struck.

*SMACK*

Her curvy buttocks quivered from the impact, but her seductive voice did not waver. You must push past the first barrier of resistance. Feel the spiritual energy around you, not just with your mind, but with your soul.

*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*

The belt struck three more times, each one landing with a sharp crack. Su Qianyao's hips swayed slightly, but her focus remained on her disciples. She smiled, a glint of pleasure in her crimson eyes.

Throughout the Zehuang Gate, the six elders continued their work, the belts never ceasing. They struck during meditation, during sparring, during lectures, during meals. Each stroke was a reminder of their place, a reaffirmation of their submission. And yet, the women carried on as if the punishment were no more than a minor annoyance, a background hum to their daily tasks.

Days passed. The six women trained the disciples tirelessly, their bodies marked with the constant attention of the Shadow-Chasing Belts. Their buttocks were perpetually red, perpetually sore, but they did not complain. They did not even flinch.

That evening, Xuanfa summoned them back to the Xuantian Realm. They knelt before him, their bodies still bearing the fresh marks of the belts. Xuanfa looked at each of them in turn, a hint of amusement flickering in his cold eyes.

Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao. He paused, letting the names hang in the air. You were each captured and made slaves by Shen Mengyue, Li Que, and Lin Qiaoxin respectively. Have you thought about reciprocating?

Bai Zhenshuang stiffened, her cold eyes widening slightly. No, master. This slave is grateful that Sister Yue captured me. If not for her, I would never have been severely spanked by you and become your slave.

Hua Qianyu bowed her head. Yu Nu feels the same. Being captured by Sister Que was a blessing. She gave me the chance to serve you.

Su Qianyao licked her lips, her red eyes gleaming with mischief. Yao Nu has long wanted to spank Xin Mei's buttocks personally. Xin Mei's buttocks are round and perky; they must look good when beaten.

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue immediately knelt, pressing their foreheads to the ground. Then they raised their hips high, presenting their buttocks to the three behind them. Their buttocks were already pink from the belts, but they offered them willingly.

Lin Qiaoxin said cheerfully, Come on, Sister Yao, hit Xin Nu's buttocks hard. Let's see if your spanking hurts more than the master's.

Li Que said firmly, Please, Sister Yu, punish my buttocks vigorously. Do not hold back.

Shen Mengyue said gently, Please, Sister Shuang, punish Yue Nu's buttocks to your heart's content.

Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao each picked up a Heaven's Path Board that materialized in Xuanfa's hand. The boards were thick, dark wood, etched with formation patterns that amplified the pain of each stroke. They stepped behind their respective targets

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The Wuling City Dao Seeking Convention was a grand gathering that drew cultivators from across the realm, a spectacle of competition and glory that occurred once every decade. The city itself was a sprawling metropolis of white jade and spirit stone, its central arena a vast platform carved from a single slab of celestial granite, floating above a sea of onlooking cultivators. This year, the Zehuang Gate had sent its most formidable representatives, and they arrived not with fanfare or procession, but with a simple, shocking presence.

Six women walked through the crowd, their footsteps measured and unhurried, their naked bodies gleaming in the afternoon sun. Lin Qiaoxin led the way, her black twin ponytails low and bouncing with each step, her youthful figure slender and well-proportioned, the black slave collar around her neck a stark contrast against her fair skin. She wore a playful grin, her eyes dancing with mischief as she surveyed the crowd. Behind her, Li Que strode with athletic grace, her fiery red hair tied in a high ponytail that swayed with her confident gait, her tall, well-muscled body radiating strength and pride. Shen Mengyue walked beside her, her long black hair reaching her waist, her skin like polished jade, her ethereal beauty tempered by a mature woman's allure, her expression serene and composed. Bai Zhenshuang followed, her delicate features cold and aristocratic, her chest full and firm, her waist slender, her hips round and full, her long black hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of ink. Hua Qianyu moved with gentle grace, her cyan hair loosely tied, her face soft and kind, her body full and proportionate, exuding an aura of maternal warmth. Su Qanyao brought up the rear, her silver hair flowing, her bright red pupils glowing with a seductive light, her curves exaggerated and enticing, each step a deliberate sway that drew every eye.

The surrounding cultivators parted like waves before a ship, their faces a mosaic of shock, shame, confusion, and anger. Men stared openly, some with lust, others with disgust. Women averted their eyes or glared with righteous indignation. Whispers erupted into a cacophony of voices.

"This is the Dao Seeking Convention, a gathering of cultivators!" a male cultivator in blue robes shouted, his face red. "How disgraceful to appear naked! Have you no shame?"

Lin Qiaoxin laughed, a light, cheerful sound. "So what should Xin Nu do—crawl on the ground? I don't mind, but that wouldn't be convenient for the competition." She winked, her tone teasing.

Shen Mengyue spoke calmly, her voice carrying over the murmur. "We are all female slaves of Celestial Lord Xuanfa. Female slaves must remain naked at all times. It is our discipline."

Another cultivator, a tall man with a sneer, stepped forward. "I didn't know that bare-assed female slaves could participate in the convention. Perhaps the rules have changed to accommodate such… livestock."

Li Que turned her head, her eyes narrowing. "I recall the qualification for participation is being a Nascent Soul cultivator or above. It doesn't say female slaves can't join. Or are you afraid that a 'bare-assed female slave' might defeat you?" Her voice dripped with disdain.

Bai Zhenshuang added coldly, her gaze sweeping the crowd. "Perhaps you lack the confidence to defeat a female slave who is wearing nothing. It would be a shame to be humiliated by one."

A female cultivator pushed through the crowd, her face twisted with indignation. "You female slaves are a disgrace to all female cultivators! You debase yourselves willingly, spreading your legs for a tyrant. Have you no pride?"

Hua Qianyu's gentle voice cut through the anger. "We slaves have no dignity. Everything is for the master. Enduring the master's punishment and humiliation is our duty. It is not for you to judge."

Su Qanyao let out a sultry laugh, her red eyes gleaming. "Little sister, would you like to try being spanked? Yao Nu's buttocks are whipped to heaven and earth every day. It's quite the experience." She tilted her hips, inviting the gaze.

The female cultivator recoiled, sputtering in rage. The six slaves paid her no further mind, moving to their designated positions on the arena platform. The convention officials, flustered but bound by the rules, could do nothing but announce the start of the competition.

The moment the gong sounded, the six female slaves activated their cultivation. Almost simultaneously, the Shadow-Chasing Belts coiled around their waists came to life. These belts were artifacts of Xuanfa's design, imbued with his will, and they stirred like bloodthirsty beasts sensing prey. With a sharp crack, the belts lashed out, striking the buttocks of each woman with relentless precision. The sound echoed across the arena—a wet, sharp slap that made the crowd wince.

Lin Qiaoxin's buttocks rippled as the belt struck, a pink flush spreading over the creamy skin. She let out a soft gasp but kept her grin, her eyes fixed on the formation board before her. The belt struck again, and again, each blow leaving a faint red mark, but she continued setting up her formation arrays as if the spanking were no more than a background rhythm. Her fingers moved with practiced speed, placing spirit stones and tracing lines of light, the belt never ceasing its assault.

Li Que stood at the alchemy furnace, her hands steady as she manipulated flames. The belt wrapped around her hips, and with each crack, her buttocks jiggled, the impact sending shocks through her powerful thighs. She gritted her teeth, but her focus never wavered. The fire under her cauldron roared, and she tossed in herbs with perfect timing, the spanking merely a companion to the heat.

Shen Mengyue and Bai Zhenshuang stood side by side for the sword competition. Both women held their swords—Zixia and Ningshuang—pointed at their opponents, a pair of Nascent Soul sword cultivators. As the belt struck Shen Mengyue's round buttocks, she shifted her stance, the blow seeming to push her into a fluid motion. She stepped forward, her blade slicing with ethereal grace, forcing her opponent to retreat. Beside her, Bai Zhenshuang's expression remained icy as the belt lashed her full hips, but her swordwork was precise, each strike a calculation of angles and timing. The belt struck again, and the ripples across her firm buttocks were the only sign of the punishment. The two cultivators facing them were skilled, but they were rattled by the sight—women being spanked in the middle of combat, yet still fighting with such ease. Within ten exchanges, both opponents yielded, disarmed and humiliated.

Hua Qianyu moved to the alchemy area, pairing with Li Que. She tended to the herbs and the medicinal paste, her hands gentle and steady. The belt cracked against her soft, full buttocks, and she let out a quiet moan, but her eyes were clear. She ground herbs with precision, her spirit sense guiding the essence extraction, the spanking a constant pressure that she absorbed into her rhythm.

Su Qanyao sat in the divine sense competition, her silver hair flowing, her red pupils glowing. The belt struck her voluptuous buttocks with a wet slap that made her sway, but she closed her eyes, extending her spirit sense into the testing matrix. The divine sense trials were brutal—waves of mental pressure, illusions, and spiritual attacks. Yet Su Qanyao navigated them with practiced ease, her seductive nature a shield, her desire for spanking an unexpected strength. The belt struck again, and she moaned softly, but her spirit sense pressed forward, overwhelming the matrix in minutes.

The crowd watched in stunned silence. The six female slaves, while being publicly spanked, were defeating every opponent they faced. The Shadow-Chasing Belts lashed continuously—crack, crack, crack—the sound a persistent rhythm over the clashes of swords and the hum of formations. The buttocks of each woman were reddened now, some bearing welts, but none of them showed any sign of breaking. Lin Qiaoxin completed her formation in record time, trapping her opponent in a maze of illusions. Li Que and Hua Qianyu produced a perfect batch of healing pills, their quality unmatched. Shen Mengyue and Bai Zhenshuang dispatched their final opponents with a synchronized sword sweep that left the crowd gasping. Su Qanyao finished her divine sense trial with a satisfied sigh.

The final gong sounded. The six female slaves stood at the center of the arena, their bodies glistening with sweat and the marks of the spanking, but their heads held high. The belts ceased their assault, coiling back into stillness. The arena was silent.

Then a murmur spread among the cultivators. "If the female slaves of Celestial Lord Xuanfa are so formidable, what about the lord himself? They were spanked the entire time and still won. How powerful is he?" The Zehuang Gate's fame surged like a tide, becoming one of the most renowned sects in the cultivation world.

That evening, within a grand hall lit by spirit lamps, a meeting of female cultivators convened. The hall was filled with women of various sects, their faces a mix of fear and anger. At the head sat two figures: Nangong Wan, the master of the Crimson Flower Spirit Realm, a woman of elegant poise with sharp eyes, skilled in divine sense; and Zhi Yun, the master of the Purple Spirit Valley, a woman with a stern brow, known for her formation mastery. Both were of Divine Transformation late stage, comparable to Shen Mengyue, Bai Zhenshuang, and Hua Qianyu.

Nangong Wan spoke first, her voice cold. "Sisters, you have all seen what happened today. The Zehuang Gate flaunts its power by parading naked female slaves, spanking them in public, humiliating them. This is not a sect—it is a den of lechers. And it is spreading. My younger sister was abducted by that demoness Su Qanyao. Now she is collared and spanked daily in that gate. I will not stand by."

Zhi Yun nodded, her fingers tapping the table. "The Zehuang Gate captures female cultivators without cause, forces them into slavery, and delights in their punishment. They must be stopped. If we do nothing, all of us will be at risk."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the hall. A female cultivator from a minor sect raised her hand. "But how? Their strength is overwhelming. Even their slaves defeated everyone today."

Nangong Wan's eyes hardened. "Strength alone is not everything. We will form an alliance. The Pure Luan Alliance. We pool our resources, our knowledge, our formations. Zhi Yun and I will lead. We will train, prepare, and then strike. The lecher Xuanfa will be humbled, and his gate will be destroyed."

Zhi Yun raised her hand, and a formation array lit up on the table, a map of the cultivation world. "We have allies. Sects that have lost members to the Zehuang Gate. Families that have been shamed. We will gather them. And when the time is right, we will cleanse this blight."

The women cheered, their voices rising with righteous fury. They did not know that their decision would plunge the cultivation world into a hell of buttock punishment, that their plan would lead to their own collars and reddened posteriors. But that night, they felt hope.

Meanwhile, in the inner chambers of the Zehuang Gate, Xuanfa sat in meditation, a faint smile on his lips. He had heard of the meeting through his spirit sense. The Pure Luan Alliance. He had many new slaves to collect.

The afternoon sun beat down on the vast plain before the Zehuang Gate, where a sea of female cultivators stretched as far as the eye could see. Ten thousand banners snapped in the wind, each bearing the crest of a different sect or clan, united under one cause: the downfall of the Zehuang Gate. At the forefront stood two figures radiating late-stage Nascent Soul power—Nan Gongwan, tall and imperious with a jade hairpin holding her coiled black hair, and Zhiyun, slender and sharp-eyed, her white robes billowing like a war flag.

"Zehuang Gate!" Nan Gongwan's voice rang out, amplified by spiritual power to shake the very mountains. "Your tyranny ends today! Surrender Xuanfa and release all female cultivators you have enslaved, or we shall raze this gate to the ground!"

The hundred thousand cultivators behind her cheered, their combined aura pressing down like a storm cloud. Swords hummed, talismans fluttered, and formation flags glowed with ready power.

For a long moment, silence answered them. Then the great gates of the Zehuang Gate swung open slowly, and six figures walked out.

They walked with leisurely steps, unhurried, as if strolling through a garden. None wore a single thread of clothing. Their naked bodies gleamed in the sunlight—flawless skin, curves that would stir any heart, and black slave collars encircling each delicate neck. Not a shred of shame touched their faces. Instead, they looked upon the hundred thousand-strong army with faint smiles, curiosity, or outright amusement.

Lin Qiaoxin led the group, her twin black ponytails bouncing with each step. Her figure was slender and well-proportioned, youthful yet enticing, her fair skin almost glowing. Behind her came Li Que, tall and athletic, fiery red hair tied in a high ponytail that swayed like a flame. Every muscle in her lithe body spoke of coiled power, and her bare feet trod the earth without a sound. Shen Mengyue followed, her long black hair cascading to her waist, her beauty both ethereal and seductive—a perfect blend of cool elegance and enchanting allure. Her bearing was serene, as if she walked through a temple rather than a battlefield. Bai Zhenshuang walked beside her, delicate and cold, with features carved from jade and an air of natural nobility. Her full breasts and rounded hips drew many eyes, but her frosty expression warned all who looked. Hua Qianyu came next, her long cyan hair loosely tied back, gentle features soft as water, her full and proportionate figure radiating warmth. Last was Su Qianyao, silver hair flowing like moonlight, bright red pupils gleaming with mischief, her voluptuous curves swaying with deliberate seduction.

The hundred thousand female cultivators stared, many gasping, some blushing, others burning with indignation. These were legendary figures—former sect leaders, saintesses, grand elders—now parading naked as slaves without a hint of shame.

Zhiyun stepped forward, her face twisted with disgust and fury. "Shen Mengyue! Bai Zhenshuang! Hua Qianyu! You were leaders of great sects! How can you debase yourselves like this? Willingly serving as a man's playthings, baring your bodies for all to see?"

Hua Qianyu smiled gently, her voice soft as a spring breeze. "Yunu considers herself fortunate to be Master's female slave. It is the greatest honor of my life."

Shen Mengyue lifted her chin, her gaze calm. "Under Master's spanking punishment, Yue Nu has already improved greatly. My cultivation is purer, my mind clearer. I am grateful for every stroke of the paddle."

Bai Zhenshuang's voice came cold as winter frost. "Shuang Nu once disrespected Master. After being punished by spanking and taken in, I came to understand my error. A female cultivator's bottom is meant for discipline. It is the natural order."

Nan Gongwan's eyes blazed. "Enough of your twisted reasoning! Hand over my younger sister, Nan Gongxue! I know you have her imprisoned here!"

Su Qianyao giggled, her silver hair shimmering as she tilted her head. "Yao Nu spent considerable effort to coax Sister Xue over. How could I simply hand her back? She's learning so much—her bottom is much redder now, and she cries so prettily."

Lin Qiaoxin chuckled, her ponytails swaying. "Maybe Sister Wan should wait a bit longer. Who knows? Xue'er might come to enjoy being spanked. Every woman has her breaking point, you know."

Li Que sneered, crossing her arms over her bare chest. "Nan Gongxue was stubborn at first. Que Nu had to paddle her bottom raw three times before she started begging. Now she cries at the sight of a wooden board. Pathetic, but effective."

Zhiyun's hand went to her sword. "You are all beasts! Brainwashed slaves!"

The six female slaves exchanged glances, then Lin Qiaoxin spoke, her playful tone turning sharp. "Female cultivators' bottoms are meant to be spanked—spanked hard and painfully. We slaves obediently receive Master's punishment every day. And now a bunch of ignorant female cultivators dare to spout nonsense before our Zehuang Gate, defying its dignity?" She smiled, but her eyes were cold. "This matter will not end easily. Later, Master will personally descend punishment and spank your bottoms countless times until they are raw."

Li Que cracked her knuckles. "I'll take the first fifty."

Shen Mengyue drew her sword, Zixia, the purple blade humming with power. "We have our orders."

The six of them moved.

What followed was not a battle—it was a slaughter. The hundred thousand cultivators charged with spells and swords, but the six female slaves had been spanked and trained by Xuanfa for decades. Their bodies were tempered, their spiritual power refined, their combat instincts honed to a razor's edge. Lin Qiaoxin's formations sprang up like blooming flowers, trapping hundreds at a time. Li Que's flames engulfed whole battalions. Shen Mengyue's Zixia sword danced like a purple serpent, cutting down all who came near. Bai Zhenshuang's Ningshuang sword left trails of frost, freezing enemies mid-step. Hua Qianyu, usually gentle, showed a different side—her healing hands delivered stunning palm strikes that sent cultivators flying. Su Qianyao's seduction techniques twisted minds, making allies turn on each other.

Within fifty rounds, the alliance lay broken. Surviving cultivators knelt or lay groaning on the ground. The six slaves did not stop. They cast spells in unison, a wave of spiritual energy that ripped every scrap of clothing from the hundred thousand bodies. In moments, a sea of naked female cultivators sprawled across the plain, shrieking and covering themselves.

Then Xuanfa appeared.

He descended from the sky as if stepping from a shadow, his black training clothes immaculate, his face cold and handsome. His pressure descended like a mountain, pinning every single cultivator to the ground. They could not move, could not even twitch a finger. Only their eyes showed terror.

Xuanfa's gaze swept over them like a winter wind. "A group of female cultivators who know neither heaven nor earth actually dare to unite and attack my sect, defy me." His voice was soft, but it carried to every ear. "I will make you all taste the punishment of having your bottoms spanked raw."

He raised a finger. Spiritual power lashed out, forcing Nan Gongwan and Zhiyun to their knees. Their bodies bent forward, bottoms raised high in the air, trembling with futile resistance. Behind each of them, two celestial wooden boards materialized—pale wood etched with runes, humming with power.

Xuanfa's voice was ice. "Five hundred strokes for the leaders. Begin."

The first board struck Nan Gongwan's right buttock with a crack like thunder. Her body jolted, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. The second board hit her left cheek a heartbeat later, the sound echoing across the plain. Zhiyun received her own two boards at the same moment, her scream piercing the air.

Crack-crack. Crack-crack. The rhythm was relentless, two boards per woman, alternating sides. The first twenty strokes: Nan Gongwan grit her teeth, her face pale but defiant. "Is that all you have, tyrant?" she snarled between strikes. Zhiyun managed to spit, "You will pay for this!"

By the fiftieth stroke, both women's bottoms were bright red, the skin glowing with heat. Nan Gongwan's legs began to shake. Zhiyun's breathing came in ragged gasps.

One hundred strokes: the red deepened to crimson. The flesh started to swell, each impact producing a wetter, heavier sound. Nan Gongwan let out a low moan. Zhiyun's eyes were wet.

Two hundred strokes: their buttocks were now dark red, puffy and hot. Every impact made them jerk and cry out. Nan Gongwan's defiant words had stopped. Zhiyun whimpered with each board.

Three hundred strokes: the color turned purple, black veins spiderwebbing across the ravaged skin. The celestial boards hummed louder, striking with unerring precision. Nan Gongwan sobbed openly, tears streaming down her face. Zhiyun wailed, "Please... please stop..."

Four hundred strokes: their bottoms were black and blue, with patches of deep purple. The skin had split in places, thin lines of blood trickling down their thighs. Their cries were hoarse, broken. Both women trembled uncontrollably, their raised bottoms quivering with each new blow.

Five hundred strokes: the celestial boards stopped. Nan Gongwan and Zhiyun collapsed forward, their buttocks black and purple and swollen to twice normal size, mottled with bruises and blood. They could not speak, only sob and gasp.

Xuanfa's cold gaze swept over the hundred thousand naked, immobilized cultivators. "You allied with these two to oppose me. That is a grave crime." His voice was flat, merciless. "The chief culprits, Nan Gongwan and Zhiyun, will be spanked five hundred times daily. The rest of you, two hundred strokes per day."

Weeping broke out across the plain. Many cultivators screamed, "Mercy! Please, we repent!" Some knelt and kowtowed as best they could with their bodies pinned. "We were foolish! Spare us!"

Xuanfa did not relent. He waved his hand, and a vast space beside the Zehuang Gate opened up—a plain of hard-packed earth. With a thought, he forced every single one of the hundred thousand cultivators into that space, making them kneel on all fours, bottoms raised high. Behind each cultivator, two celestial wooden boards materialized.

"Begin," Xuanfa said.

The sound that followed was like rain on wood—crack, crack, crack, crack—a cacophony of spanking that drowned out all other noise. Screams, wails, pleas for mercy rose into the air, blending into a chorus of agony. The space around the Zehuang Gate became a hell for female cultivators. Every day, from dawn to dusk, the smacking of wood on flesh echoed without cease. Whenever a cultivator's bottom was spanked raw—split skin, blood flowing—the healing formation Xuanfa had set up would slowly knit the flesh back together, only for the boards to begin again. Xuanfa wanted them to experience endless pain. He would not let them die midway.

Ten years passed.

Nan Gongwan and Zhiyun were broken shells of their former selves. Every morning, when the celestial boards appeared behind them, they wept and wailed before a single stroke landed. "Please, no more! We beg you! We will do anything!" They trembled at the mere sight of wood. Their bottoms had been beaten so many times they had become calloused, but the healing formation ensured fresh pain each day. They no longer had any demeanor of Nascent Soul powerhouses. They were just two crying women, raising their ruined bottoms for another five hundred strokes.

The hundred thousand cultivators had learned their lesson as well. Every day, they trembled in fear, knowing what was coming. The screams and sobs never stopped.

Inside the Zehuang Gate's main hall, the six female slaves knelt in a row, naked, their heads bowed respectfully before Xuanfa. Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, Shen Mengyue, Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, Su Qianyao—all beautiful, all obedient, all bearing the marks of their own

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Ten years had passed since Xuanfa comprehended the final principles of his Great Dao. The moment he opened his eyes in the meditation chamber of Zehuang Gate, the heavens trembled. Thunder rolled across a cloudless sky, and the fabric of reality itself seemed to shift. Xuanfa had done what no cultivator in ten thousand years had achieved—he had established a new fundamental law of heaven and earth.

He called it the Spanking Dao.

In the grand plaza of Wuling City, thousands of female cultivators had gathered. No one knew exactly why they had been summoned, only that the six Grand Elders of Zehuang Gate had called them here. And now those six women stood before them, naked as the day they were born, black slave collars gleaming around their throats.

Lin Qiaoxin stepped forward first, her twin ponytails bobbing as she moved. A playful smile spread across her youthful face. "Ladies, we have wonderful news to share. Our master has established his Great Dao." She clasped her hands together in delight. "The Spanking Dao is now one of the fundamental principles of heaven and earth."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. A Nascent Soul elder from the Heavenly Sword Sect stepped forward, brow furrowed. "What nonsense is this? A Dao of spanking?"

Li Que's red ponytail whipped as she turned her head sharply. Her athletic body tensed, every muscle defined and ready. "It is no nonsense, woman. Que Nu's master is the strongest in the world. If he says all female cultivators shall be spanked, then all female cultivators shall be spanked." She crossed her arms beneath her full chest. "You may test the Dao if you doubt."

Several brave female cultivators closed their eyes, reaching out with their spiritual senses to probe the heavens. One by one, their faces went pale. The energy of the world had changed. A new principle hummed in the very air, thrummed through the earth beneath their feet. When they opened their eyes, there was fear in them.

Shen Mengyue stepped forward, her long black hair cascading down her back. Ethereal beauty and mature charm mingled in her features. "Now, female cultivators being spanked is one of the heavenly principles," she said calmly, her voice carrying across the plaza. "Please take heed. This is not a punishment we have chosen, but the way of the world."

Bai Zhenshuang's cold features remained impassive. The former sect leader of Heavenly Sword Sect, once proud and untouchable, now stood naked before thousands. "Shuang Nu was once proud and arrogant," she said, her voice like winter frost. "I believed myself above such things. But after being punished and tamed as a slave by the master, I understood." She paused, her eyes distant. "Female cultivators' bottoms are meant to be severely spanked."

Hua Qianyu's gentle face softened with sympathy. The cyan-haired valley master stepped forward, her full figure swaying as she moved. "Everyone, please don't be afraid of spanking," she said, her voice warm as summer rain. "Although it hurts a great deal, it is also part of cultivation. Master disciplines us to make us stronger. To make us better."

Su Qianyao giggled, her silver hair gleaming in the sunlight. Her red pupils sparkled with mischief as she patted her own round bottom. "Yao Nu doesn't care about these grand principles," she said, her voice dripping with seduction. "As long as I can be spanked every day, that's enough."

Lin Qiaoxin clapped her hands. "Now then, sisters, let us demonstrate true spanking for everyone. So they understand what is expected."

The six female slaves knelt in a row, their bodies forming a perfect line. Each woman lowered her upper body until her forehead touched the ground, then raised her bottom high into the air. Pale white buttocks, round and full, presented themselves to the gaze of thousands.

From behind each woman, two celestial wooden boards materialized. They floated in the air, one on each side, smooth and polished, crackling with faint golden energy. The boards positioned themselves, took aim, and struck.

*WHACK!*

The sound echoed across the plaza like thunder. Lin Qiaoxin's body jerked forward, her breasts pressing against the stone ground. But she held her position, bottom still raised.

*WHACK!*

Li Que gritted her teeth, her fingers curling against the ground. The flame-red of her hair seemed to burn brighter as the impact sent jolts through her athletic frame.

*WHACK!*

Shen Mengyue closed her eyes, her long black hair spilling across the ground. Each strike made her tremble, but she made no sound.

*WHACK!*

Bai Zhenshuang's pale skin reddened instantly. The cold sword immortal, once untouchable, now had her bottom turned crimson beneath the celestial boards.

*WHACK!*

Hua Qianyu's gentle face contorted with pain, tears already gathering at the corners of her eyes. Yet her bottom remained high, obedient and accepting.

*WHACK!*

Su Qianyao bit her lip, but a moan of pleasure escaped her throat. Her red pupils dilated as the board struck her round flesh.

The female cultivators watched in stunned silence. Some turned away, unable to bear the sight. Others stared, horror and fascination warring on their faces.

*WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!*

The celestial wooden boards did not pause. They rose and fell with mechanical precision, striking left and right in alternation. Fifty strokes. One hundred. The bottoms of the six slaves reddened, then darkened to a deep rose. At two hundred strokes, the skin began to purple.

Lin Qiaoxin's playful demeanor had vanished. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her youthful face twisted in pain. But she did not lower her bottom. She did not cry out. Her fingers dug grooves into the stone floor.

*WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!*

Li Que's pride had long since been broken, but something of her fierce spirit remained. She glared at the ground as the boards struck her, refusing to show weakness. Her bottom, once athletic and firm, now bore deep purple welts.

*WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!*

Shen Mengyue's elegant composure cracked at three hundred strokes. A single tear traced down her cheek. But her voice, when she spoke, was steady. "This... this is what it means to accept the Dao."

*WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!*

Bai Zhenshuang's cold mask shattered. At four hundred strokes, a sob escaped her throat. The proud sword immortal, who had led armies and slain demons, now lay prostrate with a purple and swollen bottom.

*WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!*

Hua Qianyu wept openly, her gentle heart unable to contain the pain. Each strike brought fresh tears, fresh sobs. But she did not move. She did not try to escape.

*WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!*

Su Qianyao's seductive moans had turned to cries of genuine pain. Her silver hair lay plastered to her sweat-soaked face. Yet even now, a twisted smile played at her lips.

*WHACK!*

Five hundred strokes.

The celestial wooden boards faded, their duty complete.

The six female slaves lay prostrate on the ground, their bodies trembling uncontrollably. Their bottoms were purple and swollen, covered in deep welts that would take hours to fade. Tears streamed from their eyes, pooling on the stone beneath them.

But their faces still bore expressions of compliance. Of acceptance.

Lin Qiaoxin raised her head with difficulty, her voice halting and broken. "See? This... this is spanking."

Li Que pushed herself up on trembling arms. "Female cultivators' bottoms... are born to be severely spanked."

Shen Mengyue wiped the tears from her eyes. "Please... accept the Dao."

Bai Zhenshuang's voice cracked. "Resistance... is futile."

Hua Qianyu nodded weakly. "It hurts... but it is... cultivation."

Su Qianyao managed a faint giggle. "Yao Nu... loves being spanked..."

The female cultivators of Wuling City stood frozen, shock and fear painted across their faces. Many trembled. Some wept. A few clutched their own bottoms protectively.

But the Dao was absolute. The Dao was correct. And the Dao could not be denied.

Within a week, the entire cultivation world had changed.

In every sect, every valley, every lone cultivator's cave, female cultivators stripped naked at the appointed hour. They knelt, raised their bottoms, and received one hundred strokes. Some used celestial wooden boards like the slaves had demonstrated. Others used the flat of their own swords. A few, those without any implements, used their hands, spanking themselves until their palms stung as much as their bottoms.

At the Heavenly Sword Sect, the new acting sect leader—a Nascent Soul elder named Feng Yuning—knelt in the main hall with fifty of her disciples. All of them naked. All of them with bottoms raised. The slap of flesh on flesh echoed through the hall, punctuated by gasps and whimpers.

"Hold your position, disciples," Feng Yuning commanded through gritted teeth. Her own bottom was already bright red. "This is the Dao. We must accept it."

A young Qi Refining disciple sobbed as she spanked herself. "Elder... it hurts so much..."

"It is supposed to hurt," Feng Yuning replied. "That is the purpose."

In the Vermilion Bird Sect, three hundred female disciples knelt in rows across the training grounds. Their sect leader, a Divine Transformation cultivator named Zhu Yan, had been the first to submit. Now she led them in the punishment, her own bottom raised high as she spanked herself with a wooden paddle she had crafted.

"One... two... three..." she counted aloud, each stroke accompanying a number. "Seventy-one... seventy-two..."

The disciples repeated the numbers, their voices ragged with pain and sobs. But no one stopped. No one tried to flee.

To flee was to invite double punishment.

In a remote cave in the Blackwind Mountains, a lone cultivator named Mu Lianxue knelt on a rough stone floor. Her bottom, already purple from yesterday's punishment, throbbed with anticipation. She raised the wooden board she had carved, closed her eyes, and struck.

*WHACK!*

The sound echoed through the cave. She struck again. And again. Tears streamed down her face, but she did not stop. Could not stop. The Dao demanded it.

*WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!*

"Twenty-three... twenty-four..." she counted, her voice breaking. "Twenty-five..."

The days passed. The punishment continued. And slowly, the screams and wails that had filled the cultivation world began to soften. The female cultivators grew accustomed to the pain. Their bodies adapted, their minds accepted. Spanking became as natural as breathing.

At dawn, they stripped and knelt. At dusk, they massaged their swollen bottoms and prepared for the next day. Conversations in sect halls now included phrases like "how many strokes did you receive today?" and "my bottom is still sore from yesterday's punishment."

Female cultivators compared their bruises like badges of honor. Those with the deepest purple marks were considered the most devout. Those who cried the least were praised for their fortitude. And those who, like Su Qianyao, had learned to find pleasure in the pain, were admired for their complete submission to the Dao.

Meanwhile, in the Xuantian Realm, the six female slaves knelt together in a row. Their bottoms, pale white once more after healing, were raised high and presented to their master.

Xuanfa stood before them, his black training clothes immaculate, his face expressionless. But his eyes held satisfaction.

"Masters," Lin Qiaoxin said, her voice filled with adoration, "please spank us."

The other five echoed her words. "Please spank us, Master."

Bai Zhenshuang, Hua Qianyu, and Su Qianyao's bellies were round with pregnancy. They had been blessed with master's favor, honored beyond all others. Soon they would give birth to daughters, new female slaves for their master to train. The thought filled them with joy.

Lin Qiaoxin, Li Que, and Shen Mengyue already had their daughters—Shen Xingmian, Lin Yuxin, and Li Yunling—kneeling nearby, their own bottoms raised and waiting.

Shen Xingmian, who looked eighty percent like her mother, cast a loving glance at

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The morning sun cast long shadows across the marble steps of the Heavenly Sword Sect as a solitary figure emerged from the forest path. The disciples guarding the mountain gate froze mid-conversation, their words dying in their throats.

Shen Mengyue walked naked through the entrance, her long black hair swaying against her waist with each graceful step. Her skin gleamed like polished jade in the golden light, every curve and contour of her body displayed without the slightest trace of shame or遮掩. The black slave collar around her neck caught the sunlight, a stark reminder of her station. She carried only her sword, Zixia, strapped across her back, the purple scabbard tapping gently against her bare shoulder blade.

"What—" a young disciple stammered, his face flushing crimson. "Who dares—"

"Silence, fool," an elder hissed, grabbing the youth's arm. "That is the Moon Slave of Lord Xuanfa. Former Sect Leader Shen of the Immortal Clouds Sect. Do not bring disaster upon us."

Shen Mengyue's gaze swept across the gathered disciples with calm indifference. She had not worn clothes in decades. Why would she? A female slave's body belonged to her master, to be displayed as he willed. The nudity was not shame—it was truth. She was property, and property needed no adornment.

"Bai Zhenshuang," Shen Mengyue called out, her voice amplified by spiritual energy, echoing through the peaks and valleys of the Heavenly Sword Sect. "Come forth and receive Lord Xuanfa's decree."

The name sent ripples through the crowd. The Heart Slave, Sparrow Slave, and Moon Slave—these three were infamous even among the Divine Transformation cultivators of the world. Each had once been a leader in their own right, each had been broken and remade by the mysterious founder of the Zehuang Gate. And Shen Mengyue, the Moon Slave, was said to command sword techniques that could split the heavens.

From within the grand hall at the mountain's summit, a figure emerged. Bai Zhenshuang descended the steps slowly, her white robes flowing like frozen mist behind her. Her features were delicate and cold, carrying an air of natural nobility that distance could not soften. Her black hair fell straight as a waterfall, untouched by ornament. Her sword, Ningshuang, hung at her hip, the blade's frosty aura visible even through the scabbard.

"I am Bai Zhenshuang," she said, her voice calm and measured. "What message does Lord Xuanfa send?"

Shen Mengyue's lips curved into a faint smile. "Your words have been reported to the Zephyr Phoenix Sect. You spoke lightly of their sect's traditions and questioned their master's authority. Lord Xuanfa has judged this disrespect."

The disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect exchanged worried glances. The Zephyr Phoenix Sect was no minor power—it was the very sect founded by Xuanfa himself. To speak ill of it was to invite his wrath.

"Therefore," Shen Mengyue continued, "you are ordered to remove all your clothes, kneel at the mountain entrance of the Zephyr Phoenix Sect, present your buttocks, and receive punishment. One hundred strikes of the Heavenly Dao plank on your buttocks daily for ten years. This shall be considered a minor punishment."

For a moment, silence reigned. Then anger erupted from the disciples.

"How dare you insult our sect leader!"

"Who does this Xuanfa think he is?"

"We will not stand for this humiliation!"

Bai Zhenshuang raised a single hand, and the shouting ceased. Her eyes met Shen Mengyue's without fear. "I respect only those I choose to respect. I have never seen Xuanfa, never tested his strength. Why should I submit to his decree?"

Shen Mengyue's smile did not waver. "This is but a minor punishment now, Sect Leader Bai. If you resist, Lord Xuanfa's punishment will not show mercy. Consider carefully."

"Everything will be decided by strength," Bai Zhenshuang replied. She drew Ningshuang, and the blade sang as it left the scabbard, frost forming on the air around it. "Defeat me, and I will accept whatever punishment you decree."

Shen Mengyue sighed softly, as if disappointed by a child's stubbornness. She drew Zixia, and the purple blade hummed with spiritual energy.

The two women faced each other across the courtyard. Around them, disciples scrambled backward, clearing a space. The air grew heavy with killing intent.

"Very well," Shen Mengyue said. "I will show you the power that Lord Xuanfa has given me."

They clashed.

Blades met in a shower of sparks, purple and white light colliding. The ground beneath their feet cracked and split. Bai Zhenshuang moved like flowing water, her sword techniques precise and deadly, each strike aimed at vital points. But Shen Mengyue matched her move for move, her body flowing through forms that should have been impossible.

Fifty rounds passed. Then seventy. Then ninety.

The disciples watched in growing horror as their sect leader began to falter. Sweat beaded on Bai Zhenshuang's brow. Her breathing grew ragged. Shen Mengyue, by contrast, moved with fluid grace, as if the battle were nothing more than a dance.

"I have endured thousands of spanking punishments from my master," Shen Mengyue said, her voice carrying clearly over the clash of swords. "Each stroke of the Heavenly Dao plank tempered my body. Each lash refined my spirit. I have been broken and remade countless times. How could you, who has never known such discipline, hope to match me?"

At the hundredth round, Shen Mengyue's blade slipped past Bai Zhenshuang's guard. The purple sword traced a line across Bai Zhenshuang's shoulder—not deep, but enough to draw blood. A moment later, Shen Mengyue's finger technique struck Bai Zhenshuang's wrist, and Ningshuang clattered to the ground.

Bai Zhenshuang stared at her empty hand, her face pale with shock. She had never been defeated. Not once in her life as a sword immortal. Yet here she stood, weaponless, bleeding, before a woman who had been a slave for decades.

The disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect were stunned into silence.

Shen Mengyue sheathed Zixia and looked at Bai Zhenshuang with something almost like pity. "I have already informed my master through a sound transmission talisman. He says that since you resisted stubbornly, your guilt is compounded. You will be taken back to the Zephyr Phoenix Sect for severe punishment."

She paused, letting the words sink in.

"So I ask you, Bai Zhenshuang: will you resist to the end, dragging the Heavenly Sword Sect down with you? Or will you kneel and accept punishment?"

Bai Zhenshuang's voice was cold and calm, but there was a tremor beneath it. "Since I, Bai Zhenshuang, have been defeated by Shen Mengyue due to inferior skill, I willingly accept all punishment."

She turned to face her disciples. "Disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect, do not seek revenge for me. This is my matter alone."

Then, without hesitation, Bai Zhenshuang reached up and untied her robes. The white silk fell away, pooling around her feet. She removed her undergarments, piece by piece, until she stood as naked as Shen Mengyue. Her body was elegant and pale, her chest full and firm, her waist slender, her hips round and full. The scar on her shoulder from Shen Mengyue's blade was the only blemish on her perfect skin.

She knelt on the cold stone.

Shen Mengyue approached, holding an Immortal Binding Lock in her hand. The black metal coiled around Bai Zhenshuang's neck, locking into place with a soft click. She attached a thin chain to the collar, and then began to walk.

Bai Zhenshuang crawled behind her.

The disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect watched in extreme shock and fear. Their proud sect leader, the invincible Bai Zhenshuang, crawled on her hands and knees across the stone courtyard, her naked body exposed for all to see. Her breasts swayed with each movement. Her buttocks rose and fell as she crawled. Every eye in the sect followed her humiliating progress.

Shen Mengyue led Bai Zhenshuang to the main hall, where the sect's elders and senior disciples had gathered. She stopped at the center of the hall, beneath the grand chandelier, and turned to face the crowd.

"Bai Zhenshuang's crimes are as follows," Shen Mengyue announced, her voice carrying through the hall. "First: disrespect to the Zephyr Phoenix Sect, speaking lightly of its traditions and questioning its master's authority. Second: stubborn resistance to punishment, forcing Lord Xuanfa to escalate his judgment."

She paused, letting the weight of the words settle.

"She will now be publicly spanked four hundred times in this hall, then taken to the Zephyr Phoenix Sect for severe punishment."

Bai Zhenshuang knelt on the stone floor, her head bowed. Her hands rested on her thighs, her back straight. She was calm. She was accepting. But inside, a fire of humiliation burned.

"I am ready," she said quietly.

Shen Mengyue shook her head. "Lord Xuanfa has given specific instructions for your punishment. He says that to maximize your humiliation, you will not be punished with the Heavenly Dao plank. Instead, your own sword scabbard will be used."

Bai Zhenshuang's composure cracked for just a moment. Her own scabbard. The scabbard that had held Ningshuang for centuries, the symbol of her power and identity. To be beaten with it was to have that symbol turned against her.

She said nothing. She bent over, presenting her buttocks to the gathered assembly, positioning herself for the punishment.

Shen Mengyue picked up Ningshuang's scabbard. The white jade cylinder was cold in her hands, the frost aura from the blade still clinging to it. She raised it high, then brought it down with full force.

*WHACK.*

The sound echoed through the hall. A red line appeared across Bai Zhenshuang's left buttock.

*WHACK.*

Another line, on the right.

Bai Zhenshuang bit her lip, refusing to cry out. The pain was sharp, immediate, but she had endured worse in training. It was the humiliation that truly hurt—the knowledge that her disciples were watching, that her elders were watching, that everyone she had ever led was seeing her brought so low.

*WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.*

The scabbard rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Shen Mengyue used spiritual energy to control its strikes, ensuring each blow was precise and devastating. The skin of Bai Zhenshuang's buttocks reddened, then purpled, then began to swell.

*WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.*

At the hundredth stroke, blood began to seep through the broken skin. Bai Zhenshuang's legs trembled, but she held her position. Tears streamed down her face, but she made no sound. She would not give her disciples the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

*WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.*

Two hundred strokes. Her buttocks were a pulped mass of red and black, the skin split in a dozen places. Blood dripped onto the stone floor, pooling beneath her.

*WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.*

Three hundred strokes. The pain was beyond anything Bai Zhenshuang had ever experienced. Each blow sent shockwaves through her body, rattling her teeth, blurring her vision. She could feel her flesh tearing, her muscles spasming, her very spirit crying out for mercy.

*WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.*

Four hundred strokes.

Shen Mengyue stopped. The scabbard was slick with blood, droplets falling from its tip. Bai Zhenshuang's buttocks were unrecognizable—a ruined landscape of torn flesh, exposed muscle, and shattered blood vessels.

But the punishment was not over.

Shen Mengyue's spiritual energy flared, and Bai Zhenshuang felt her legs being forced apart. She was spread open, her most intimate parts exposed to the hall. A whip appeared in the air above her, suspended by Shen Mengyue's will.

"One hundred lashes to your perineum," Shen Mengyue said, her voice flat and emotionless. "Each lash will cover both your anus and your cunt. This is Lord Xuanfa's special punishment for those who resist."

The whip cracked.

It struck exactly between Bai Zhenshuang's spread legs, the lash covering both her anus and her vagina. The pain was electric, shooting through her enti

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Li Que stood naked at the entrance of Hundred Flowers Valley, her athletic body on full display under the morning light. Her fiery red hair, tied in a high ponytail, cascaded down her back like a banner of flame. The disciples of the valley who had gathered at the entrance stared at her with wide eyes, their mouths agape. Some covered their eyes in shock, while others blushed and turned away, unable to bear the sight of the proud woman standing completely bare before them.

Li Que paid them no mind. She had long since shed all shame, all pretense of modesty. Over the decades, she had been publicly spanked in the main halls of a dozen sects, had crawled naked on her hands and knees through the streets of immortal cities while Xuanfa walked calmly behind her, had been bent over stone tables in the sight of thousands of cultivators to receive her punishment. Each humiliation had carved deeper into her soul the truth that she was nothing but a slave. And in that truth, she had found an unexpected pride. A female slave naturally displayed her naked body. It was her duty, her honor, her very essence. The shocked gazes of these disciples were merely the recognition of her proper place in the world.

She stood with her feet planted firmly apart, her hands clasped behind her back in a posture of perfect submission and perfect confidence. Her body was a testament to years of rigorous training—muscles defined but not bulky, curves firm and full, her skin tanned from countless battles under the sun. The black slave collar around her neck gleamed dully, a constant reminder of her master's ownership.

A commotion arose from deeper within the valley, and soon a crowd of cultivators emerged, led by a woman of ethereal beauty. Hua Qianyu walked at the forefront, her long cyan hair loosely tied at the back of her head, with a few strands falling softly by her ears. Her face was gentle as water, soft and delicate features arranged in an expression of natural kindness. Her robes were simple but elegant, a light green dress that flowed around her full, proportionate figure like morning mist around a mountain peak. There was an air of harmony about her, a calm serenity that spoke of decades spent nurturing life rather than destroying it.

When Hua Qianyu's eyes fell upon Li Que, her serene expression cracked. She stopped in her tracks, and the disciples behind her nearly collided with their valley master. Hua Qianyu's eyes traveled slowly down Li Que's naked body and back up again, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.

"Li Que?" Hua Qianyu's voice carried the question she did not dare to voice.

Li Que smiled, a cold, predatory expression. "Sparrow Slave, under the command of the Heavenly Lord Xuanfa." Her voice carried clearly across the open space, loud enough for every disciple to hear. "Hua Qianyu, Valley Master of Hundred Flowers Valley, I bring you my master's message."

Hua Qianyu's hands clenched at her sides. She knew what was coming. The incident with the herb garden had been a simmering dispute for months, and she had hoped Xuanfa would overlook it. She had been a fool to hope.

Li Que continued, her voice ringing with authority. "Some time ago, disciples of Hundred Flowers Valley occupied the herb garden of the Zephyr Phoenix Sect, stealing spiritual herbs and destroying the array formations protecting the garden. My master, the Heavenly Lord Xuanfa, has decreed punishment." She paused, relishing the fear spreading through the crowd of disciples. "All disciples who participated in the occupation must remove their clothes, kneel at the mountain entrance of the Zephyr Phoenix Sect, present their buttocks, and receive their punishment. Each disciple will receive one hundred strikes of the Heavenly Dao plank on their buttocks daily for ten years. This shall be considered a minor punishment, a lesson for their transgression."

Gasps and cries of despair erupted from the disciples. Some stumbled backward, their faces pale as death. Ten years of daily public spanking was a sentence worse than death for many cultivators. The humiliation alone would break their spirits.

Li Que's eyes locked onto Hua Qianyu. "Hua Qianyu, as valley master, you failed in your guidance of your disciples. Your negligence allowed this crime to occur. You will be punished alongside them."

Hua Qianyu's face had gone pale, but she stood her ground. "Li Que, there must be—"

"There must be nothing," Li Que cut her off coldly. "These are my master's words. They are absolute."

The disciples around Hua Qianyu began to weep, their cries filling the morning air. Some fell to their knees, begging their valley master to save them. Hua Qianyu's gentle heart could not bear the sight.

"Li Que, I challenge you to a duel," Hua Qianyu said, her voice steady despite her trembling hands. "If I win, my disciples are spared."

Li Que laughed, a harsh, cruel sound. "If you win, I will deliver your plea to my master. If you lose, you will obey without further resistance."

Hua Qianyu drew her sword, a blade of jade green that hummed with spiritual energy. Without another word, she launched herself at Li Que.

The battle was swift and brutal. Hua Qianyu was skilled in healing and alchemy, not combat. Her sword techniques were graceful but lacked the killing intent that Li Que had honed over decades of battle. Li Que dodged and parried with ease, her body moving like a flame dancing in the wind. She did not even draw her weapon. She simply let Hua Qianyu exhaust herself, then struck.

A palm of fire slammed into Hua Qianyu's chest, sending her crashing into the stone pillars of the valley entrance. Hua Qianyu gasped, her robes scorched, her breathing ragged. She tried to rise, but Li Que was already upon her, one foot pressing down on her back, forcing her face into the dirt.

"You are weak, Hua Qianyu," Li Que said without malice. It was simply a statement of fact. "You spend your days growing herbs and brewing potions while I have spent decades at my master's side, learning the true meaning of strength."

Hua Qianyu struggled, but Li Que's foot held her firmly in place. Tears of shame and frustration streaked down the valley master's face as her disciples watched in horror.

Li Que pulled out a sound transmission talisman and ignited it with a wisp of spiritual energy. The talisman burst into silvery flames, and from within them, a voice emerged—cold, detached, absolute. Xuanfa's voice.

"Hua Qianyu and the entire Hundred Flowers Valley have resisted stubbornly," the voice said, each word falling like a hammer blow. "They have compounded their crimes. Hua Qianyu is to be taken back to the Zephyr Phoenix Sect for severe punishment. All her disciples will also receive heavy spankings."

The talisman crumbled to ash. The disciples of Hundred Flowers Valley erupted into terrified sobbing. Some threw themselves at Hua Qianyu's feet, begging her to do something, anything.

Hua Qianyu's heart broke. She could not bear to see her disciples suffer. She had raised many of them from childhood, had taught them herb lore and healing techniques, had watched them grow into fine cultivators. To see them publicly humiliated, beaten day after day for ten years—it would destroy them.

She crawled forward, ignoring her scorched robes and the dirt on her face, and knelt before Li Que. She pressed her forehead to the ground, kowtowing once, twice, three times.

"Please," Hua Qianyu said, her voice raw with emotion. "Please, Sparrow Slave, convey my words to the Heavenly Lord. Punish only me. Double my punishment. Triple it. I will bear any suffering if my disciples are spared."

Li Que watched with cold interest. She sent another talisman, and Xuanfa's voice returned, even colder than before.

"If only Hua Qianyu is punished, the punishment must be severe torture."

Hua Qianyu did not hesitate. She rose to her feet and began removing her robes, letting them fall to the ground in a heap. She stood naked before her disciples, her full, proportionate body exposed to their shocked gazes. Her long cyan hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and tears streamed down her gentle face. She knelt again, kowtowing repeatedly, her forehead striking the ground with dull thuds.

"Please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Punish only me. I accept severe torture. I accept anything. Please spare my disciples."

Li Que watched for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "So be it." She produced an Immortal Binding Lock—a thick chain of black iron inscribed with glowing runes—and fastened it around Hua Qianyu's neck. The other end of the chain Li Que held in her hand.

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

Hua Qianyu obeyed, lowering herself to all fours. The chain clinked as it dragged along the ground. Li Que tugged, and Hua Qianyu began to crawl forward, her naked body moving slowly, humiliatingly, in front of her weeping disciples.

Li Que led her through the gates of Hundred Flowers Valley, through the gardens and courtyards, past the training grounds and meditation halls. Disciples lined the path, their faces a mixture of horror, pity, and fear. Some covered their eyes. Others openly wept. A few turned away, unable to bear the sight of their beloved valley master crawling naked on the ground like an animal.

Hua Qianyu kept her eyes fixed on the ground ahead of her. She could not bear to meet the gazes of her disciples. The dirt was cool against her palms and knees, and the sun was warm on her bare back, but she felt nothing but numbness spreading through her soul.

They reached the main hall, where a crowd of disciples had already gathered, drawn by the commotion. Li Que stopped at the steps leading up to the hall and turned to face the assembled crowd. Hua Qianyu knelt beside her, the chain around her neck pulling her head down.

"Hua Qianyu, Valley Master of Hundred Flowers Valley," Li Que announced, her voice carrying across the silent courtyard, "has been found guilty of two crimes. First, failure in guidance, allowing her disciples to commit theft against the Zephyr Phoenix Sect. Second, violent resistance to the law, challenging my master's decree. For these crimes, she will now be publicly spanked four hundred times in the hall of Hundred Flowers Valley, witnessed by all her disciples. Afterward, she will be taken to the Zephyr Phoenix Sect for severe punishment."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but no one dared to speak.

Li Que turned to Hua Qianyu. "Bend over. Raise your buttocks high. Present yourself for punishment."

Hua Qianyu's face burned with shame, but she obeyed without hesitation. She lowered her upper body until her chest touched the ground, then pushed her hips upward, raising her full buttocks high into the air. Her position was perfect—completely exposed, completely vulnerable, completely humiliated before her disciples.

But Li Que was not finished. She turned her attention to the distant herb gardens and reached out with her spiritual energy. With a flick of her fingers, plants uprooted themselves and flew through the air, landing in a pile beside her. Dark green vines covered in fine, stinging hairs.

Hua Qianyu's eyes widened in recognition. Stinging nettle. A common weed that grew in damp, shaded areas. Touching it caused an immediate, intense itching that lasted for hours. There was no cure; one simply had to endure until the effects faded. But Li Que had something worse in mind.

Li Que used her spiritual energy to crush the nettles, extracting a thick, dark green juice. The liquid glistened in the sunlight as she shaped it into a sphere and guided it through the air. Hua Qianyu trembled, knowing what was coming but unable to stop it.

The nettle juice spread across Hua Qianyu's upturned buttocks like a cold paint, coating every inch of her exposed skin. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the itching began.

It started as a mild tingling, almost pleasant. Then it intensified, becoming a maddening crawl beneath her skin.

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