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Sakura

KittyforOwner

Female Submissive, 37, Dallas, Texas
Female Submissive, 28, San Jose, California
kittygrrl
Female Switch, 23, London
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KittyforOwner - Female Submissive, DENVER Colorado | BDSM Profile on Collarspace

KittyforOwner - Female Submissive, DENVER Colorado | BDSM Profile on Collarspace - photo 1

About KittyforOwner

Meow and Hi there! I'm River, a creature unlike any other, blending into the shadows of submission with a touch of playful rebellion. My pronouns are it/they/her, and when you see me, you'll find not just a submissive, but a living, breathing mix of an object, a pet, a kitten, and a doll, all wrapped up in one package. But don't be fooled by the cuteness; beneath the purrs and soft glances lies a desire for something darker, something that lingers just beyond the edge of control.

Submission is more than a game or role I play. It’s the very essence of who I am. I long to be owned, to be shaped, to be nothing more than a possession in the hands of the right Master—adored and used, valued yet disposable. There is a deep, almost primal thrill in letting go, in being stripped of everything that defines me as human, leaving only the raw, aching need to be consumed and molded. Every boundary pushed, every layer of control stripped away, reveals the depths of my yearning for that darker space, where play turns into total surrender. It’s the thrill of knowing that, in someone else’s hands, I become more than just River—I become a thing, an object, something to be possessed, shaped, and admired.

And yet, there’s another side to me—an adorable, mischievous kitten that craves attention, scritches, and soft nips. I love to purr and tease, curling up for affection when it's offered, basking in the warmth of being cherished. But even that comes with a cost. Behind every playful gesture, there’s a hidden desire to be taken to that darker place. The dichotomy of my nature—playful yet deeply submissive—is where I find the most satisfaction. I long to be both adored and used, shaped by my Master’s hands and then discarded when I’m no longer needed. Whether I’m an obedient kitten or an object waiting for its next command, my submission runs deep, threading itself through every part of who I am.

My submissive energy is both playful and intense, a balancing act between the joy of giving and the thrill of being completely dominated. I seek those spaces where I can be fully embraced for the creature I am, where my boundaries can be stretched and my needs met. Whether it’s through playful teasing or the intensity of being dehumanized and objectified, I’m constantly seeking that connection where my submission is not only seen but understood.

And yet, despite this deep hunger for submission, I am a geek at heart, a flirt by nature, and a proud animal lover. My dogs, Mischief and Mayhem, are my world, bringing joy and chaos in equal measure. But if you can’t handle furry madness, this kitty might not be your perfect match.


Here’s how I break down:


100% Masochist

100% Primal (Prey)

100% Rope bunny

100% Submissive

98% Pet

82% Degradee

75% Slave

71% Experimentalist

60% Non-monogamist

57% Voyeur

54% Brat

48% Exhibitionist


For me, it’s not just about the play—it’s about finding someone who can truly see the creature I am beneath the surface, someone who can appreciate both the kitten and the object, the pet and the doll, all wrapped in one beautifully dark package.

I crouch in the dim light, low to the ground, my muscles coiled with anticipation. My heart beats with the thrill of the chase, yet no footsteps follow, no predator’s growl answers my call. I’m a kitten playing in the shadows, batting at a love that slips through my claws. You, so distant, so untouchable, are the prey I’ll never catch—the storm I’ll never tame.

The air is thick with the scent of longing. I arch my back, purring softly, an offering of submission, a plea for connection. But the silence stretches between us, sharp and cruel, like the edge of a blade grazing skin. I reach for you in my primal way, a growl in my throat, a playful swat, a desperate leap. You stand still, unyielding, unseeing.

I ache for your touch, even if it stings. I crave the thrill of being hunted, the satisfaction of surrendering to you, the sharpness of your love cutting through me. Instead, I am left to prowl alone, circling a void that offers nothing in return. Every glance you give that doesn’t linger, every word spoken without weight, slices through me deeper than any knife.

In my dreams, you are the hunter. You snarl, you chase, you pin me to the earth. Your teeth graze my neck, and I surrender willingly, body and soul. But reality is a different kind of pain, one that gnaws at me in quiet moments. You don’t see the way I tremble for you, the way I offer myself with every arch of my back, every purr in my throat, every unspoken word.

The shadows are my companions now. I curl into them, licking wounds that refuse to heal. I am the kitten you’ll never chase, the prey you’ll never capture. Still, I remain here, waiting, aching, caught in this endless edge between desire and despair, loving you in the dark where you’ll never look

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