On my eighteenth birthday I entered writer Donovan Price’s world, agreeing to be his muse, his pet, as he writes his next great novel about a man who keeps a collared woman as a pet for one hundred days. No one ever gets this close to this reclusive writer but I did. And today, we finalize our agreement.
Day 1. Donovan returned to the kitchen table with a file folder full of paper.
“I wrote The Rules out for you,” he said, pushing a set of papers towards me. “I’ll post a set on the fridge. Just to make sure we have a clear understanding of what’s expected of you, you’re going to read them out loud.”
“Okay,” I said, before clearing my throat. “Pet is to remain indoors at all times and will be dressed in clothing chosen by Owner.”
“You are an indoor pet,” he said, “You can only go out if I open the door.”
“Pet must remain on all fours (crawl) while inside house.”
He reached into a bag for pair of padded volleyball kneepads and fingerless padded gloves and pushed towards me.
“You can wear these.”