I guess I should start by introducing myself. My name is Prudencia, I’m 24 and from Barcelona. It’s funny that my name has the word ”prude” in it because I’m actually a seedy fuckin’ whore.
All of my old normie friends, the ones I used to go to the cinema with, shop together, and hang out with, are gone. My craving for sex took priority over our friendship and burned them all to the ground.
Their dads, boyfriends, brothers, or even mums and sisters, I tried to fuck them all, and few of them could resist me. I even have scars from the catfights resulting from my debauched shenanigans.
Luckily, when you have a cunt that’s as addictive as mine, male friends with hard cocks and filthy minds aren’t hard to find and I quickly replaced my boring normie friends.
But where did this intense lust for sex come from? The answer can be defined in one word: Porn. Sweet, sweet fucking porn.
And Porn is the key ingredient for this confession of Porn redemption that took place at a reverse Gloryhole in a seedy Barcelona sex cinema.
Table of Contents
How I Became a Porn Heretic
I looked at Porn like it was music for the eyes. I’d spend countless hours consuming it in its most hardcore form and constantly craved the chance to act out what I saw on the screen for real.
In turn, Porn has made me make some bold life choices. I was a Goonette uni student in Barcelona, yet ditched university to pursue days of intense masturbation and sleazy adventures.
I’m also extremely left-wing (classic Catalan!) and hated the well-behaved and outdated kind of woman society wanted me to be. For me, sexual carnage was my way of striking back against the system.
I adore tattoos, too, and began adorning my skin with sleazy body art that signified my lust for depraved sex, many of which were a bizarre contrast to the communist-themed tattoos from my more rebellious days.
From being the bareback whore in a creampie orgy to fucking ten men I’d meet on sites like Fuckbook in a day, my Porn-fuelled lifestyle was going full steam ahead. But naturally, my family hated it.
Living at home, my Goonette lifestyle was hard to hide. My family would see me hanging out with different men all the time, I dressed like a sex worker, and I didn’t give a fuck who heard me cumming in my room.
”He’d clearly seen the hammer and sickle on my upper back and took great pride in humiliating someone whom he deemed an inferior political adversary. I should have hated it with every fiber of my being, yet I smiled a sleazy grin at the sheer degradation. I even thanked him like a pathetic whore when he groaned and pumped sperm into my asshole.”
My family had always stifled my expression and pushed me into doing things I hated. Over the years, I grew increasingly distant from them and wanted to escape the home more than anything.
It all culminated in a massive argument that saw me confronted by ten members of my family, all demanding an intervention. It got nasty; I stormed out and went for a long walk.
As much as I adored Porn, I was heartbroken that my family couldn’t respect my lifestyle and was torn. When I saw an old-school Porn cinema, I thought it was the perfect way to take my mind off it.
I was wrong. In those dark corridors, still reeling from the brutal argument, I was overwhelmed by sleazy old men groping me all over and ran out of there in tears, vowing to never watch Porn again.
And for six months, I didn’t. But like most Goonettes, I eventually relapsed. Plagued by the guilt of betraying Porn. I contacted Catherine, told her my story, and asked for advice on how to fix it.
”Don’t Run From Sleaze”
‘’Six months is a long time,’’ Catherine said solemnly on the phone, ‘’I feel ashamed for you. The only way to right this is by returning to that Porn cinema. Don’t run from the sleaze, bathe in it.’’
I dusted off one of my favorite cum-stained outfits from my Goonette days and prepared to follow through on her orders.
At 12 pm on a Saturday afternoon, I stood outside of that seedy sex cinema, the neon light illuminating my Pleaser heels, stockings, miniskirt, and black corset with sheer material that showed off my tits.
My sex-starved cunt ached with sheer lust. In an alleyway down the side of the cinema, a tipsy guy in his forties eyed me up and down while painting the wall with piss.
When he saw me enter the cinema, he hastily zipped his cock away and followed me inside. As I paid for my ticket from the sleazy-looking owner, the pissing guy went through the doors of the cinema to alert the others.
On the weekend, the porn cinema was even more intense than the last time. The sexual ferocity of these seedy sex theater dwellers knew few limits, and they looked at me like cheap meat.
And then, I saw it. At waist height was a reverse Gloryhole. It was big enough for you to put your upper body through and present your ass to everyone on one side, while the other side was enclosed in a box with a TV playing hardcore porn inside.
It was fucking perfect. But before I’d even reached it, I already had old men’s hands knuckle-deep in my cunt. They were ferocious.
The Reverse Gloryhole
Turning around to address them, I was greeted by countless Gooners pumping their dicks with a glazed-over look of Porn drunkenness in their eyes. My pulse raced with a mix of apprehension and lust.
”My name is Prudencia [redacted], and I turned my back on Porn and tried to deny my true whore self,” I said to the crowd in Spanish, ”I present myself to you all to help me atone for my sins.”
There were no shy men in here. The second I got comfortable, my G-string was torn off. They disappeared, no doubt the prime masturbation accessory in some pervert’s home.
I’d love to tell you how many men used me that day, but I’d be lying if I said I knew. What I do know is that my redemption-craving slit was barely empty, and I was cock drunk within an hour.
The porn playing in the booth fit the theme of this sex pit and contained long DAP porn movies from the likes of Anal Vids and Creampie Gangbang. Fitting!
A broad spectrum of perverts used my body. Some spat on me like I was trash, others dropped to their knees and licked my used holes before leaving, and there were those who opted for my ass.
”I collapsed on my knees and leaned back against the wall of the reverse Gloryhole, feeling the kiss of sperm, slit gush, and lubricant leaking down the wall behind me.”
”Squeal like a pig, you f*ckin’ communist whore!” One anonymous guy barked at me while roughly shoving his cock deep into my asshole, making me squeal from the force.
He’d clearly seen the hammer and sickle on my upper back and took great pride in humiliating someone whom he deemed an inferior political adversary.
I should have hated it with every fiber of my being, yet I smiled a sleazy grin at the sheer degradation. I even thanked him like a pathetic whore when he groaned and pumped sperm into my asshole.
”I’m sorry for forsaking you,” I said, teary-eyed at the porn Goddesses on the screen as another cock hammered my pussy, ”I’ll never be a Porn Heretic again. I beg for your forgiveness!”
Six hours. Six fucking hours I withstood in that reverse Gloryhole. To this day I still don’t know how I did it. When I finally crawled out, my legs gave way immediately from all of the intense fucking.
I collapsed on my knees and leaned back against the wall of the reverse Gloryhole, feeling the kiss of sperm, slit gush, and lubricant leaking down the wall behind me.
My body was spent. I could barely move a muscle and desperately needed rest. So I just lay there. Luckily, my jaw still moved. Now granted access to my face and tits, more men approached me.
As I lay there in a slumped mess, they proceeded to pump their dicks over my exhausted body. I held my tongue out and closed my eyes as rope after rope of hot semen drenched me.
Some stuffed their meat in my mouth for me to clean with my tongue. Doing so, I could taste which dicks had been in my ass, my cunt, or both.
The Whore Comes to Dinner
I’d been used like a public fuck hole. Some men had scrawled profanity on my asscheeks and lower back via a marker pen someone had shared between the group.
My hair, skin, and clothes reeked of cum, sex sweat, and sheer sleaze. But, after seven hours, I wasn’t finished. My porn redemption was far from over.
I walked all the way home in that state, and it was a long walk. The looks of horror people gave me on the street sent me over the edge and made my slit bubble with lust.
As the sun began to set over Barcelona, I stopped at a run-down bar on the way back and sat where everyone could see me.
This was a place where no sane woman would go, and aside from the barmaid, I was the only woman in there. Pretty soon, a raucous crowd surrounded me at the bar seeking entertainment.
”She looks like she has just finished shooting a porn movie!” The drunken men shouted as they put their arms around me for a selfie to show their friends.
As they did, I felt wandering hands slide up my skirt and enter my wet cunt. If only they knew what else was in there.
Meanwhile, the barmaid looked at me with a look of shocked disbelief at how a woman could be this slutty. I adored it!
After sinking a few beers, and not paying for any thanks to the men covering my tab. I headed home, now very drunk. As I stumbled through the door of our apartment, I arrived just in time for dinner.
The looks on their faces are something I’ll never forget. I drunkenly sat at the dinner table drenched in stale cum, looking like a street whore who’d just finished a shift and stared them all out.
As they looked at me in shock, I picked up a Grissini (long, thick bread stick) from the table and slid it down my throat until I gagged. Well, all hell broke loose. It was time for me to pack up and leave.
”Catherine, I Need a Place to Stay”
”You fucking puta!” my family roared as they threw me out of the house with a bag of my things. ”Go and join the whores on the street! You’re a disgrace!” I didn’t care.
”I belong to Porn now!” I screamed back at them, knowing the neighbors could hear and hoped they could, ”I’m a proud whore, and I always have been!”
I had a long list of men whom I could call to sleep at their place. My hungry Spanish pussy was always a good form of payment for them.
But rather than then, I found myself calling Catherine. I told her what I’d done and that I needed a place to stay. Even she was shocked by my actions, especially my antics at dinner.
”There’s an EasyJet flight to Belfast that leaves Barcelona in five hours,” Catherine said. ”I’ll book your ticket and pick you up at the airport. You can stay with me until you get back on your feet, ok?”
I felt like she was my Porn angel coming to the rescue. Little did I know that my stay with Catherine would end up making my Barcelona sex cinema adventure, and all that came before it, look tame.
Want to Live Out Your Own Reverse Gloryhole Fantasy?
Whether you crave anonymous sex or want to atone for Porn Hersey like Prudencia did, finding a reverse Gloryhole to do so is often easier than you think. Luckily, I’m also here to guide your way.
Check out some of my esteemed and utterly debauched Gloryhole guides that help you with everything from finding a local Gloryhole to the etiquette to follow when you’re on your knees at one.
