Original subtitles

Subtitulando el Camino (2010) presenta:

I know this story, these feelings...

I know all about them.

The gnawing pain, the increasing madness, the shameful dependence.

I’ve been in love too...

He had answered an ad in a porn magazine.

Not that he needed a job,

Nor that he needed sex.

He just liked the idea of choosing to lead a parallel life…

That it was forbidden, that it had a hidden side.

Sure, he liked the idea of getting cash by having his cock sucked.

You’re on time. Good.

You’re clean?

Er… yes.

Hygiene’s very important in this job. Got to be strict about this.

It’s a big business here… regulars, well-known people showing up…

Want a drink?

No, thanks. I’m fine.

On the ground-floor, the restaurant.

Our clients look for all kinds of pleasure..

It starts with a nice meal : nice food, a good wine…

That’s when people first get together...

Around 11:00, we put some music on…

People dance, get to know each other…

Then if they feel like it… Well, they can go upstairs.

Come on, I’ll show you.

Another double bed there, “women only”…

Men come here if they want to watch.

Or they go over there for a closer look.

Two large showers in here, so people can meet up, do their thing.

There’s make-up and all…

A steamy session and the mascara’ll be running…

You should see their tears of pleasure...

Toothpaste, to rinse your mouth between pussies. The least you can do.

The only rooms with a key, for members only.

If they want their privacy, they can stay there all night.

OK, let’s go to your office, it’s in the basement.

You get why I insist on hygiene? It’s the rule in this business.

A complaint that one of our guys smells like piss and we’re screwed.

Another important thing : never get to know the clients.

Queers or posh ladies, I don’t give a shit.

I don’t want trouble.

Got it?

Do it and you’re sacked.

The customer’s classy in here : the benefits of a posh area…

Not that many queers, they don’t really hang out here.

You’ll be behind this wall.

See the holes?

Well, you know. They’re Glory Holes...

Wait here, I’ll be right back.

You have to give them pleasure. Make them come !

They’re in control… Let them do what they want.

You’re just a sex-object. They don’t give a shit who you are.

That’s what they come here for !

Sluts.

You don’t want to do that!

The less they see you, the better.

They shouldn’t manage to get a look anyway !

Tomorrow you start at six.

We’re open on Wednesday afternoons. It’s kids’day.

It’s chicks’day, too.

He liked the idea of blind pleasure.

The innocence of it.

He liked the idea of becoming an object of their fantasies…

That they would indulge in his body… Even a part of it.

He had never looked at himself in a mirror and wondered if he were ready…

Ready to give away what he could see, what he was.

No longer an image, he was becoming flesh, blood, desire.

He was scared. He was proud.

So you’re the new one.

Good to see new faces.

Don’t worry, we’ve all been there.

It’s tough at first and then…

You get used to it.

You’ll see, it’s more about the pleasure you get from a mouth, a pussy

and the pleasure they get than not knowing who’s hidden behind.

No talking here, no lame foreplay. You come and that’s all.

That’s what they want. That’s what they’re here for.

Today’s not a busy day. But don’t worry…

Once they know there’s a new one they won’t get off you.

Real sluts.

Good luck then, bye.

And he was there… maybe too much there.

Less aroused each passing day.

He learnt that desire loathes routine.

But it was too late.

He was sucked in…

Sucked in by the hole where he shoved his dick for people to lust after.

Now he needed his daily fix of violent and filthy sex.

He needed to drain off his venom.

He needed his Glory Hole…

and this partition which reeked of its past.

He needed the pleasure he no longer enjoyed : to go into the wall.

Her perfume at first…

was as novel to him and intoxicating

as her way of touching him.

From then on, he started to wait for Wednesdays…

For her...

On Wednesdays. Always.

She would examine the penises, one by one erect through the partition.

She would stand and touch his penis for a longtime.

A preamble.

Then she would crouch

kiss him gingerly

stroke him with her fingertips

and then with her tongue all wet and hot.

Why did they have to meet there?

She was not like the others.

And he knew it.

Her worries, her desires were different

as were her reasons for coming.

Crouching there,

she would suck his dick, almost with love.

On Wednesdays. Always.

Then everything became fake.

He had thought that the partition would protect him, Glory Hole.

But no… it did not, on the contrary.

Imagination had acted as a catalyst.

He should not let himself see you, only imagine you.

You, prudish in public, you, an underground whore.

To avoid love, they said : Protect yourself from sight and sound.

It was your name now : Glory Hole.

The light and the abyss.

You had no proper name.

You did not deserve one.

You were dirty, dirty and filthy.

Just a whore behind a wooden wall.

He loved you though, Glory Hole.

You had him under your power, your orders.

And he was so foolish, always standing to attention.

He would have killed for Wednesdays.

His day of the Lord.

Everything that polluted him, his impure thoughts

you would make them disappear.

Is anyone there?

I’m closed. Get lost.

But I’ve paid…

Get lost!

A long time, a year, a desert.

Until yesterday.

It’s you… isn’t it?

Maybe...

Subtitulando el Camino (2010)...