Chapter 1

Julia Martin, 27, never considered herself to be naïve or impulsive even though she was frequently told she was by her friends and coworkers. Julia had been taking yoga classes for several years before the new slavery laws were enacted.

Call it what you will, denial or resistance, Julia finally gave in and decided to explore Slave TV. As luck would have it, the first time Julia tuned to the channel it was showing a live slave yoga class. Julia was enraptured by the sight of the 24 naked girls performing the slave poses and chanting the slave mantras.

While she jumped each time a slave was struck by the instructor’s (Master’s) whip, she couldn’t believe how wet her pussy was. Julia wasn’t a lesbian and wasn’t even remotely turned on by other women, so she couldn’t explain why she was so turned on.

Every day after work, Julia would tune in to the live broadcast of the beginner slave yoga class. After a few weeks, Julia thought she had memorized the poses and decided to follow along. After work, she stripped off her work clothes and donned her yoga outfit. Julia was shy and couldn’t bring herself to be naked even in her own apartment.

She rolled out her yoga mat in front of the TV and waited the few minutes for the live broadcast to begin. Unaware that the slave network had a way to track who watched slave TV and what they watched, Julia began to receive ads in her email advertising training materials for slave yoga kits for home use.

Little did she know that these training kits were a gateway to enslavement, so in her ignorance, she ordered the kit. Julia skimmed through the website to see what she would be getting. It listed a training collar, mat, and cameras to monitor the ‘person in training.’ ’Person in training?’ Julia thought. ’I’ve been doing regular yoga for years but the slave yoga is totally different poses, so I guess I am back in training again.’

Julia scrolled to the section about the cameras to find out why more than one was needed. According to the site, eight cameras were required to ensure the instructor could see the student from all angles. Front, rear, left, right, and in each corner. A dedicated room was recommended but any room with a TV and plenty of room with no furniture to block the cameras was acceptable.

Julia lived in a one-bedroom apartment and only had a TV in her living room. Julia was pleased to see that professional installation was part of the package. Because the cameras were 4k UHD the kit was more expensive than Julia could afford. Luckily, the company offered a payment plan that Julia selected. Julia could select 12, 24, or 48 payments. She chose the 48 payments as it offered the lowest payment at 0% interest. What Julia missed was the consequences for defaulting on the loan—immediate enslavement.

After ordering the kit, Julia put on her yoga leotard, laid out her mat, and tuned into the yoga class she has been remotely attending for several months; including when she was just watching.

A few days later, Julia received an email letting her know that the installers would deliver her kit, and she was instructed to leave her apartment key on the door trim above her door. While she was at work, the cameras and the controller would be installed, allowing the instructor to see her while she followed along with the class. The controller also contained a microphone and speakers. The following morning Julia did as instructed as she left for work.

Julia returned home after a long day at work, her excitement about the impending arrival of her yoga kit mingled with a trace of nervousness. She opened her apartment door and noticed everything looked normal. “Huh,” she muttered, glancing around. “That’s weird. I thought they’d leave a note or something.”

Shrugging it off, she changed into her yoga outfit—a fitted leotard that, while modest, hugged her figure a little more snugly than she’d care to admit. She rolled out her mat in front of the TV, just as she’d done countless times, and tuned into the live broadcast. Before beginning, she reached into the kit and pulled out the training collar. It clicked securely around her neck, as instructed in the manual, and stayed inactive while the session began. The collar always released automatically at the end of each class, and she had quickly grown used to the ritual.

When the instructor appeared on the screen, her heart gave an odd little flutter. There he was—Master Dominic, as the channel called him. With his commanding presence and piercing gaze, he exuded an aura of authority that made Julia’s cheeks flush. She’d never been one to swoon over men, especially not on TV, but there was something about him ... something magnetic.

“Welcome, slaves,” his deep voice resonated through the speakers, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. “Today, we’ll perfect the Servant’s Arch and the Obedient Lotus. Follow along carefully, and remember: your devotion is reflected in your posture.”

Julia tried to ignore the peculiar warmth spreading through her as she mimicked the poses. She felt silly referring to them by their names, so she simply thought of them as yoga poses with a twist. As she moved into the next stretch, she heard a faint sound.

“Julia,” a voice said, low and unmistakably male.

Startled, she froze mid-pose. Her heart raced. “W-who’s there?”

“Relax,” the voice replied smoothly. “It’s me, your instructor.”

Her eyes darted to the TV screen, but Master Dominic was still on it, leading the class as though nothing was amiss.

“No, not the TV,” the voice chuckled. “Look around.”

Julia straightened and glanced nervously at her living room. Then she noticed the faint red lights in the corners of the room. The cameras. They were on.

“Wait, how...?” she stammered, realizing the voice was coming from the speakers embedded in the room.

“I can see you, Julia. Very good form on the Arch. You’ve been practicing.”

“Oh my God,” she gasped, covering herself instinctively even though she wasn’t naked. “This is so creepy! How are you ... why are you watching me?”

“You signed up for this,” he said matter-of-factly. “The cameras, the instructor’s oversight—it’s all part of the training kit you ordered. Did you not read the details?”

She gawked at the nearest camera, dumbfounded. “No, I didn’t realize it meant this kind of oversight!”

“Well, now you know.” His tone remained calm and authoritative. “Now, if you’re ready, let’s move into the Obedient Lotus. Knees apart, hands folded, head bowed. And remember: posture is everything.”

Julia’s face burned, but something in his voice compelled her to comply. As she sank into the position, she felt a strange mix of embarrassment and ... something else. Something she didn’t quite understand yet.

Over the next month, Julia’s routine continued, but now it included Master Dominic’s direct feedback. “Straighten your back,” he’d say, or “Hold that position longer.” Each correction sent a jolt through her from the collar; part indignation, part ... satisfaction? She told herself it was just because she wanted to improve her yoga skills. She faithfully wore the collar for every session, trusting its automatic release at the end of class.

Then, one evening, as she finished a particularly grueling class, Dominic’s voice took on a softer tone. “You’ve made excellent progress, Julia. You’re very dedicated. I’m impressed.”

She felt a small thrill at the praise. “Uh, thanks,” she mumbled, not sure how else to respond.

“You’re welcome. But dedication requires commitment. True commitment.”

Julia blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” he said cryptically. “Check your email tomorrow.”

True to his word, an email arrived the next morning. It was from the Slave Yoga Network, congratulating her on completing her introductory training and inviting her to “elevate her practice” by upgrading her membership. The email detailed the next steps, including the activation of her training collar. Julia stared at the screen, her pulse quickening. “Activate the collar?” she whispered. “What the hell is this?”

There was a link to schedule a live consultation with Dominic. Against her better judgment, she clicked it. Moments later, his face appeared on her laptop screen, smiling warmly.

“Hello, Julia,” he said. “I’m glad you’re ready to take the next step.”

“I’m not sure I am,” she replied, her voice shaking. “I mean, I didn’t realize this was going to get so ... intense.”

“Personal growth is always intense,” he said, his tone soothing yet firm. “But you’ve come this far. Don’t you want to see where this journey leads?”

She hesitated, torn between her apprehension and the inexplicable pull she felt toward him—toward this strange, thrilling world she’d stumbled into. Finally, she nodded.

“Good,” Dominic said, his smile deepening. “Let’s begin.” And with that, Julia’s life began to change in ways she never could have imagined.

As soon as he said the words, there was a sharp click from the collar around her neck. Julia flinched at the sound, followed by two sharp pinches on either side of her spine at the base of her neck. She yelped, her hands flying to the collar.

“What was that?” she gasped.

“That,” Dominic said calmly, “was the lock being put on a schedule. The collar will now release only on workdays, Monday through Friday, five minutes before you leave for work. The pain you felt was from two small needles. They are part of the corrective measures system, designed to ensure proper training even when a Master cannot be physically present.”

Julia’s stomach churned. “Corrective measures?”

“Yes,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “The needles induce nerve pain when you disobey or fail to meet expectations. Think of them as your personal instructor. This is Phase One of your advanced training. If you need to leave your apartment outside work hours, you may request the collar be released. Now, let’s move forward. Remove your leotard.”

Julia’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Slaves perform yoga naked,” Dominic explained. “As part of your advanced training, you will remain naked while in your apartment. It fosters vulnerability and discipline.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I—I can’t do that. I’m not comfortable-”

The collar buzzed faintly before a sharp, electrifying pain shot through her neck. Julia cried out, collapsing to her knees. “Comfort is irrelevant,” Dominic said firmly. “You will comply.”

Dominic’s voice shifted to a firmer tone. “And from this point forward, you will refer to me as Master Dominic. Anyone who communicates with you through the controller will be addressed as Master or Mistress. Is that clear?”

Julia nodded hesitantly, her pulse pounding. “Y-yes, Master Dominic.”

Tears stung Julia’s eyes as she struggled to her feet. Trembling, she reached for the neck of her leotard and began to remove it. She hesitated as she slipped it off her shoulders, but the memory of the pain urged her forward. Finally, she stood naked, her arms instinctively moving to cover herself.

Another more intense shock coursed through her body, and she collapsed again, gasping. “Slaves do not cover themselves,” Dominic said, his voice implacable. “Part of your training is learning to accept this.”

Julia whimpered but forced herself to stand, letting her arms fall to her sides. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she stood exposed before the cameras and her instructor.

“Good,” Dominic said approvingly. “You’re learning. Additional cameras will be installed throughout your apartment to monitor your adherence to the training protocols. Now, let’s begin today’s session.”

Julia stood trembling, her skin prickling from the shock as Master Dominic’s commanding voice echoed through the speakers. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing as he began issuing instructions for her first naked slave yoga class.

“Let’s start with the Servant’s Arch,” Master Dominic said. “On your knees, hands clasped behind your back, chest pushed forward. Remember, every pose reflects your submission and dedication.”

As Julia positioned herself on the mat for her next yoga class, she noticed something different on the screen. Among the other slaves in the live broadcast, one of the figures looked uncannily familiar. Her movements matched the others at first, but the longer Julia watched, the more convinced she became. That slave looked just like her.

“Master Dominic?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Julia?” His voice came through the speakers, calm but commanding.

“That ... that slave in the front row.” She pointed at the screen, her hand trembling. “She looks exactly like me. How is that possible?”

Master Dominic chuckled softly, the sound deep and resonant. “Ah, you’ve noticed. I was wondering how long it would take.”

Julia frowned, her unease growing. “What do you mean?”

“The classroom isn’t real, Julia,” he explained. “It’s a CGI simulation. Every slave you see on that screen is a free woman, just like you, training in her own space.”

Her mind reeled. “But ... how?”

“The images are created using the eight cameras installed in your apartment,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “The AI analyzes your movements in real-time and projects them into the virtual classroom. What you’re seeing is a reflection of your own performance. The same is true for the others. Each woman sees herself as one among the many.”

Julia’s heart pounded as she stared at the screen. “So ... you’re saying that’s me?”

“Precisely,” Dominic confirmed. “And the AI ensures every detail is accurate, down to your posture and expressions. It’s an advanced system designed to provide an immersive experience. You’re never truly alone in your training.”

She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Seeing her likeness displayed so openly on the screen, performing the same vulnerable poses she’d been practicing, made her skin prickle with self-consciousness.

“But why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s part of your conditioning,” Dominic replied. “To cultivate the mindset and discipline required for advanced training. Now, Julia, focus.”

Julia hesitated, still acutely aware of her nudity, and received a shock from her collar. The humiliation of kneeling naked, her body fully exposed to the cameras, made her chest tighten. But the sting of the collar’s shock lingered, a sharp reminder of the consequences of disobedience. Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Arch your back more,” Dominic ordered. “Push your chest forward.”

She complied, her muscles trembling as she forced herself into the posture. Her face burned, and she could feel tears threatening to well up, but she refused to let them fall. Master Dominic’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.

“Good. Now hold that position for one minute. Focus on your breathing.”

Julia closed her eyes, trying to block out the shame and focus on the instructions. The seconds felt like hours, but she remained still, determined not to trigger the collar again.

“Excellent,” Dominic said after what felt like an eternity. “Now transition into the Obedient Lotus. Legs crossed, hands on your thighs, and head bowed. Remember, posture is everything.”

Julia unfolded her legs and shifted into the new position, her movements stiff and hesitant. The cameras whirred faintly as they adjusted to capture her every angle. She bowed her head, her hair falling over her face like a curtain, offering a small sense of privacy.

“Julia,” Dominic’s voice snapped. “Move your hair. Your face must remain visible at all times. From now on you will keep your hair in a ponytail during yoga sessions.”

“Yes, Master.” Her stomach sank, but she obeyed, brushing her hair back and twisting it into a messy bun. The vulnerability she felt was overwhelming, but she knew there was no way out. Not now.

As the session continued, each pose seemed designed to strip away more of her resistance. The Submission Stretch required her to lie flat on her stomach with her arms outstretched, her body fully on display. The Offering Pose had her kneel with her hands raised above her head, presenting herself to the cameras.

By the time the session ended, Julia was physically and emotionally drained. Sweat clung to her skin, and her muscles ached from holding the demanding poses. But the most exhausting part was the constant battle with her own mind—the humiliation, the shame, and the strange, confusing thrill she couldn’t quite suppress.

“Very good, Julia,” Master Dominic said as she knelt in the final position, the Supplicant’s Rest. “You’ve shown promise today. Remember, every moment in your apartment is part of your training. You will remain as you are—naked and obedient—until further notice. Dismissed.”

The speakers went silent, but the red lights on the cameras remained on, a stark reminder that she was never truly alone. Julia stayed kneeling for a moment longer, her mind racing. She hated the situation she’d found herself in, yet something deep inside her whispered that this was only the beginning.