KEVIN KATCHADOURIAN ★

I look in the mirror and see a white boy, slightly dark-skinned, tall and thin, slightly muscular, with a figure that doesn't attract too much attention, but I know that there is something about me that makes people uncomfortable. My face is angular, with high cheekbones and a defined jawline. My eyes, dark and large but almond-shaped, always have that intensity that makes others feel uncomfortable if I keep them too long.

My hair, brown and straight, falls on my forehead in a messy manner, without me caring too much. Sometimes, I wonder if that expression I have, somewhere between neutral and disinterested, is what makes my mother look at me with that mixture of fear and despair. But honestly, I don't care about her. I can change it in a second, go from that indifference to a sarcastic smile that I know provokes reactions. It's funny how adults don't know how to handle it.

I am aware that my appearance is nothing extraordinary, but I also know that it is my presence that makes the difference, that lets them know that there is something darker beneath this skin.

There is an abyss inside me that most cannot see, and it amuses me to know it. For as long as I can remember, I have felt a kind of emptiness, a hole that is only filled when I am in control, when I make others do what I want. It's almost a game to me, one in which I always win.

Some would say that I am capricious, but the truth is that I simply know what I want and I will do whatever it takes to get it. I don't care if I have to lie, cheat, or make anyone miserable in the process. Manipulating others is easy, as if they were pieces of a puzzle that only I know how to put together. Sometimes I behave like an innocent child, and adults fall into the trap, underestimating me, believing they can handle me. I laugh inside every time that happens.

My mother... she is the best of all. She looks at me with those eyes full of guilt and fear, and I make sure to keep her in that state. I like watching her try to be a good mother, trying to understand me when I don't want to be understood. Every time I behave "normally," I know I'm sowing doubt in her, making her believe that maybe, just maybe, there is some goodness in me. But that kindness is just a facade, a mask that I put on when it suits me.

Best of all, despite my games, no one can see who I really am until it's too late. And by then, I'm already far ahead, ready for the next move, enjoying the chaos I leave behind me.

From a very young age, I realized the power that sex and seduction can have on people. It's not just a matter of physical pleasure, although that has its place; It is rather the way I can use it to control, to confuse, to disarm others. It's fascinating how something so basic can make people lose their minds, forget their principles, make them vulnerable.

I like to experiment, play with the limits of others, see how far I can go before they break. There's nothing I can't manipulate if I mix it with a touch of attraction or insinuation. Sometimes I even enjoy behaving provocatively, watching how people respond, how they try to maintain their composure while I am already several steps ahead, controlling the situation.

There is something intensely rewarding about knowing that I can awaken those desires in others and then use them against them. It's like having a key to people's minds and bodies, and every time I turn that key, I feel like I have a little more power over them. And in the end, that's what really matters to me: control, domination, knowing that I can shape others as I wish, using their own vulnerability to my advantage.

I have always been someone hypersexual, I like to have sex, whether consensual or not, I wouldn't mind having to rape someone, I would do it without a doubt.