Only pervert,

only plunder,

only pleasure and humiliation.

Flesh offered without a name,

desire that does not ask,

tongue that burns in silence.

The "cinaedos" (from the Greek κιναιδός, kinaidós) were a socially and sexually marginalized figure in Ancient Greece. Although the term does not have an exact translation, as it combines elements of sexual behavior, gender, and class.

The word probably comes from the Greek root kinein (to move) and ados (pleasure or shame), and was used in a derogatory way to refer to men who assumed a passive sexual role in relationships with other men, which was considered unworthy in a society where masculinity was closely linked to dominance and control. Their sexual role was passive. In Greco-Roman cultures, this role was a subject of mockery or contempt if assumed by a free citizen. The passive was seen as "feminized".

Feminization: They were attributed with behavior, dress, or gestures considered feminine. Prostitution: Many cinaedos were, or were supposed to be, male prostitutes, especially young slaves or foreigners. Public performances: Some were known for dancing or participating in sensual or provocative shows. Stigmatization: Despite having a "tolerated" role in the social or sexual life of some citizens, they were not respected nor did they enjoy rights.

Athens, 414 BC. In the city that boasted of reason and democracy, contradiction also flourished. Hiparco, a Lydian freedman, lived in that gap: too visible to be ignored, too desired to be silenced.

They called him cinaedo — a word that the orators spat out with contempt in the agora, but that the same men whispered with panting behind the marble walls when night covered the facades.

The city watched him, judged him, and hired him.

He wore light tunics that danced with the wind and revealed more than they hid. He walked through the Cerámico as if it were a stage. He never looked at the ground. He knew they were watching him, and that was his armor.

In the Pnyx, free citizens discussed virtue, temperance, and the duty of man over his desire. In the port of Piraeus, those same men waited for their turn to touch the skin of whoever symbolized what they most feared: the loss of control, dominance, and the masculine ideal.

Often, Hiparco strolled through the Agora at sunset. The merchants looked at him with suspicion; the matrons murmured to their slaves. But more than one young aristocrat — those who studied with Socrates in the morning — turned their gaze too late, betrayed by the slight tremble of their pupils.

They insulted him in the assemblies.

They waited for him in secret.

One night, in a banquet house, the guests crowded around a boy with olive skin. He danced, contorted under hungry gazes. He knew what they were looking for: evidence that he was less of a man, the object made flesh, th...