Author's Note: I've always been fascinated by the fact that actors have to simultaneously exploit and ignore their own nature when creating a work of visual fiction. So when I was reading Fifty Shades of Grey, I was struck by how making that (borderline pornographic) novel into a wide-release movie would be really challenging for the actors starring in the film. Especially if they weren't super comfortable with BDSM. It's an interesting conflict, being able to channel the appropriate emotions for a character. How much of that is you? How much is the character? Is there a difference?

DISCLAIMER: These characters and the setting of the movie filming are purely fictional. Any resemblance to any actual person living or dead is purely coincidental. I claim no knowledge of the casting, scene selection, or overall creative aims of the movie version of Fifty Shades of Grey, whenever they actually make it. I don't own the characters or the scenes and dialogue from Fifty Shades of Grey. This story contains explicit sexual content and violence.

Full Summary: David Tate just landed the lead role in the movie adaptation of Fifty Shades of Grey, but he's not ready for the places that filming is going to take him. Do you have the courage to watch as the kinky world of Fifty Shades takes his mind apart, one piece at a time? His beguilingly innocent co-star, Julia, only drags him deeper into this imaginary world that exists a little more than it should. What will it do to his relationship with Sophie, the beautiful actress he's dating? Can he escape this darkness that's blurring the line between his life and Christian Grey's? Does he want to?

I'm sitting on a white iron daybed with Julia's bare ass upturned over my lap and about fifty crew members standing around watching and waiting for us to get on with it. We've met once before yesterday, and I'm trying pretty hard to pretend it's not awkward. Lucy, the director, grabs my hand and presses it between Julia's sharp shoulder blades, talking a mile a minute. A girl from Makeup squirms in between us to add a touch of powder to Julia's butt cheeks.

To be honest, when we did the auditions for this movie, I'd pictured filming being a little more fun.

Two Months Ago

I love my job.

Today, I'm getting paid to have some of the hottest women in Hollywood on their knees in front of me. If things go well, I'm supposed to kiss them, so the casting director can decide if it looks like we are having fun. Score.

This would be a high point in the life of most dudes, and I'm not unaware of that. To be honest though, it's not that different from my normal job on a teen drama series. Or even my actual life considering that I'm dating a gorgeous former dancer whose list of acting awards is even longer than her lovely legs. Ah, Sophie.

I wait for the next actress to come in, hiding my twinge of regret. Sophie would have been dead perfect for this role if anybody was still capable of seeing us as anything but Alex and Emily from Queen of Hearts. Filming would have been a lot more fun, too.

When people started tossing around both of our names for the starring roles in the movie version of the bondage-themed-romance Fifty Shades of Grey, Sophie suggested we read the book together to see if either of us should be seriously pursuing the project. Sophie barely got through the second chapter before she dropped her copy, looked me in the eye and said, "You have to do this."

I was still surprised a couple weeks ago when they told me the job was mine for the taking. BDSM is not exactly my bag, but this is going to be a big, big movie. Bigger than any feature film I've ever done by far. The cherry on top of my sundae? Helping the casting director find me a co-star with the appropriate chemistry.

For the audition, we're doing the scene where the characters first meet. It starts with virginal college student Ana coming into rich, dominant CEO Christian's office and tripping and falling to the floor. He lifts her back to her feet and shakes her hand, and then they move to the couch for a subtext-laden interview crackling with sexual tension. So far this morning, five girls have tripped and fallen at my feet.

Emma Watson. She's pretty, and older than I expected. We've got a good vibe, but please God and casting directors everywhere, do not make me have to go all whips and chains on Hermione.

Alexis Bledel. A Gilmore Girl? Really? Still, we've got a delicate spark between us. As the audition unfolds, I get my first real glimpse of how powerful the dominant/submissive dynamic is going to be with me playing opposite one of these sweetly vulnerable girls. Before I know it, Alexis has beguiled me into falling a little too deeply into her lovely eyes. That's ruined at the end of the take when she cuts the chemistry off with the abruptness of a guillotine, going back to brusquely professional in less than a blink. Ah, one of those girls. It could work, but do I want it to?

Amanda Seyfried. We have the romantic tension of an old fruitcake and a vacuum cleaner. I think this is mostly due to the fact that in real life, her dramatic eyes are just way too fucking big. She looks like a blonde alien-human cross. She's sent on her way before we even make it to the kiss.

Another blonde. I didn't catch her name, but she's as delicate and ethereal as a fairy. A fourteen-year-old fairy. I'm playing a 27-year-old CEO going after a college grad, but the "innocent" requirement in Ana's character description appears to be bringing out the all dewy-skinned, wide-eyed types. I feel like a cradle robber.

Granted, Sophie's quite a bit younger than me, but that girl has the mind of a southern society matron crossed with an army general. If she wasn't cheerleader cute and blessed with a wickedly playful sense of humor, she'd be a little scary.

Mila Kunis. The air between us is so hot that the director asks for two full run-throughs, and we get a trial kiss. She's cracking me up with jokes in between every take and I don't know if she'd be right for Ana, but she'd definitely be fun to work with. Somebody's going to have to break the tension between all those bondage scenes, and I'm already missing Josh, my go-to comic relief in the cast of my regular show. Queen of Hearts is in the off-season, which is why I'm free for this movie. Honestly, though, I would have begged them to write me into a coma for a couple episodes for a career opportunity like this one.

Mila's still got the big-eye thing, though. Why everybody wants to see Bambi get a spanking, I'm not quite sure.

I grab a water break, and then Julia Grant is up. She plays an empress on a popular fantasy series that I've watched a few times. It's on HBO, so she's no stranger to nude scenes. She has shiny brown hair like Sophie's, and wide sea-green eyes that can do knowing, naive and enraged with equal facility.

Julia trips and goes down so hard on her entrance that I wince, forgetting that she meant to do that. I take my cue and gently draw her back to her feet. She's a tiny little thing. My hand goes nearly all the way around her upper arm and once she's on her feet, her head only reaches my collarbone.

She slowly raises her face to mine, looking shaken. The air between our bodies is fairly shimmering with attraction. I want her and I've barely even taken a full look at her yet. But her bones are so small and breakable that I perversely want to wrap her in a hug as much as I want to undress her.

As our eyes connect, hers widen slightly and it is obvious that she's just pictured me naked. More than that, she knows that I know she just pictured me naked and is mortified by it.

Unbidden, Christian Grey's smile spreads across my face. Intrigued and a little bit wicked, because I've read the script and oh, the things I'm going to do to this woman. With her, his smile is mine. This audition is over.

Two Months Later

This is only the second day of shooting, but we're already doing the first punishment spanking scene. The director, Lucy insists on showing me exactly how to hold Julia down.

"Firmly, like this, and spread your fingers, so your hand looks bigger and her back more vulnerable. The line between wide release and soft core is all about camera angles, so we're not going to see her actual butt. The end product will probably be cuts of both your reaction shots, your hand on her back and the side curve of her bottom. I'd like to do a few shots with your hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back just slightly. Nothing too dramatic. This is the first dominant scene and we don't want to disappoint, but we don't want to overplay our hand."

I'm nodding obediently but is she seriously ever going to shut up? I'm so glad I'm not the one whose ass is hanging out while we discuss blocking right over the top of it. For about the hundredth time, I resist the urge to pull the quilt over Julia in between takes. I've done dozens of these cable-friendly sex scenes. I'm not a prude, for God's sake.

"Are we doing the leg thing?" I manage to interject.

"You know what? Do the whole run through, and then we'll do a separate one with that. Just go with your gut. So if you want to clamp her legs between yours at first, or if you want to use that halfway through to up the ante-," Lucy gestures inarticulately. "Whatever feels good."

Julia flips over in my lap and speaks up in her naturally soft British accent. "What about the rubbing? I was re-reading this scene in the book this morning, and he's sort of stroking her in between each strike and it is very harsh but very tender. I get the idea that one feeds the other. Like the harder he strikes her, the gentler it makes him in between."

"Allows him to be," I say without meaning to. I've read the book, too. "The more severe he is the more it gives him permission to be gentle."

Julia smiles beautifully at me. "Exactly."

She's wearing a flesh-colored thong that looks like nothing and she doesn't bother to pull her yoga pants up while we talk, since we'll probably pick back up halfway through the scene.

Lucy is nodding frantically. I think she is way too hot for this story, personally. I don't know if this shoot is going to be long enough to get her over her micro-managing tendencies. Julia and I were bitching over beers about it last night. Both of us work on long-running shows and we've gotten used to having the trust of the production staff. After that, Lucy's antics are all the more irritating.

"Okay, so the way you want to play that is to-," Lucy starts, as if she's ever acted a day in her goddamn life.

"Stroke up her back a little bit so the camera can catch it," I interrupt.

"Watch the face shots," Julia adds. "He can display most of that concept with just his eyes."

My eyebrows twitch as I glance down at her, not sure how to take this unexpected endorsement. She's right, of course. After playing lovesick bad-boy Alex Harper for three years, I've perfected the switch between fierce and tender. It's a little flare of the eyes and then relaxing the small muscles around them, moving your visual focus from one spot to a little bigger area.

I wink at Julia. I'm enjoying working with her every bit as much as I thought I would. She's a great mix of professional, passionate and fun when it comes to acting. She really loves what she does.

"David, like I said before, we'll dub in the sound of your hand smacking flesh, so keep it gentle. But we need your muscles flexing and the force of the swings to look real, okay?"

I will not roll my eyes.

Unfortunately, I have to hold back a laugh at that thought because I am supposedly giving Julia this spanking because her character rolled her eyes (well-deservedly) at mine.

I nod with great solemnity. Lucy's a good director. She's going to come up with a great film. If I don't kill her first.

Lucy gestures for us to start from the top, so Julia pulls her pants back on. I jerk Julia down over my lap, my fingers overlapping around her tiny wrist. I'm going to look like a caveman onscreen next to her.

I milk the moment when I slowly lower her pants, but I know the camera's going to be all over Julia's wide eyes and erratic breathing. This time, I hold her down hard, crushing her small breasts into my thigh and the mattress. My hand is biting into the flesh of her back and the next fake-spank lands a little too hard. My eyes flare and I bite back an apology, soothing her skin instead.

I can't get over how little she is. I really can control her whole body with one hand.

Lucy signals me to move my hand and I fist it brutally into Julia's silky hair, pulling her head back just enough for the camera to get a look at the fear in her eyes, her lips shiny and full as she pants out her anticipation of the next blow.

And motherfuck, I'm hard. There's no way Julia's going to miss it, because per Lucy's directions I'm shoving her into my lap. So I just go with it. I can die a thousand deaths of professional embarrassment later, but really, did anybody think I'd make it through this whole two months of filming without popping wood? Sophie's been teasing me about the possibility since I got the part.

I bring my hand down, and it lands a little too hard again. The next spank looks phony because it's too gentle. Julia strains against my hand. I automatically resist, holding her in place by her hair. I like the feel of pulling her head back, controlling where she looks. I try to concentrate on the spanking, on making it look real.

It sucks. I'm either unconvincing, or too harsh. Lucy's back and she's babbling at me. I struggle to focus.

The next excruciatingly long sequence has me pinning Julia's legs between mine. I don't think it is going to show as well on camera. Still, the more immobile I force her to be, the more she wriggles against me, gasping out little cries of pain that make it hard to remember that I'm not really punishing her. I break a sweat and makeup has to run over and powder my forehead between takes. Thank goodness Julia doesn't move so my incredibly long-lived erection is still just my business. And, unfortunately, hers.

The makeup crew gets out of my face about two seconds before Lucy's in it again, with a thin pink cushion that she straps around Julia's poor ass. Apparently my spanks weren't convincingly powerful, so now I'm going to chastise the heck out of this cushion.

"Go to town, David," Julia cranes her head around to wink at me.

"You can put me over your knee later, I promise," I tell her sympathetically.

This cannot be the most fun she's ever had on a job, especially with the crowded set. I know if it was me, I'd be holding back a fart the whole time.

She turns back over, we reset, and I land the first blow. The slap against the vinyl-covered cushion is surprisingly loud in the silence of the sound stage.

Lucy gestures excitedly and I put some force into the next one. It jolts Julia against my leg and I wince before I can stop myself. Lucy cuts because I just ruined the fucking take with an amateur's mistake. Her face is stiff and I think she might be holding back an eye roll now.

I've got to channel my character better than this. I can't just be whacking away. My face drops into Christian's mask. Impeccably controlled, with his excitement leaking out only in his eyes. This time when Julia lurches from my blow, a shock of exhilaration goes through me.

She's got a great reaction, her face scrunching attractively, her teeth gritted against the pain. It makes me want to give it to her harder. So I do. Soon, her fists are clenching in the sheets and she's writhing a little, flinching but then pushing back for my hand if I go too long between strikes. Her hip feels good against my swollen flesh. When I finally wring a cry out of her, it goes to my head like strong whiskey before I remember that she's faking it.

The take is perfect, and I know it. Lucy knows it too, and she lets it go on for quite a while. I land one more cruel spank as she calls a wrap, and feel a twinge of embarrassment. Should I have been able to stop before that last one?

My erection is twisted painfully against my waistband. Lucy's calling for a break and there is no way I'm getting to my dressing room without the family-sized tent that is my pants advertising itself to everyone here.

I free the cushion from Julia and give her a hand up. On her way to her feet, she makes a quick movement with the back of her wrist that jogs my junk into a more comfortable position. My eyes widen. It's a pretty personal thing to do, but done with such professional nonchalance. And kindness.

Plus, now I can actually stand up without making it clear that I am the filthiest kind of method actor.

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

She grins, shimmying back into her pants. "That last take was spot-on. I think that's going to be the best material."

I'm happy to leave it at that and escape to my dressing room.

I'm surprised at how easy it was to slip into the sensual ruthlessness that is Christian Grey. He wants to dominate this girl, and as soon as he starts, his demons are driving him harder, faster, not letting him subside. I just didn't expect that with the first blow to that silly cushion that those demons would reveal themselves so clearly to me. I'm all for diving into a character, but I like to feel like I'm the one controlling the jump.

I need to get rid of this erection, and I do it efficiently, without much enjoyment. A mental image of Sophie over my lap while I hold her down makes me catch my breath and then I shove it away, replacing it with a more comfortable blowjob fantasy.

When I'm done, I wash my hands and sigh. We have half an hour for a break and I'm still feeling twitchy and restless.

I pick up a set of cufflinks and rattle them in my hand, then set them back down. I check my phone and think of calling Sophie before I remember that she is filming all day. She said last night that she was in practically every scene on the list today. She has my sympathy. Fifty Shades of Grey is Ana and Christian-centric. There's not much I get to sit out for this movie, which makes for a hellish schedule. The break I'm currently wasting will be hard to come by in a couple weeks.

I hit the speed dial for Josh instead, who plays my brother on Queen of Hearts. We're rivals because we are both in love with Sophie's character, but the writers have had us addressing each other as 'brother' so often that it's been a running joke with us. During our first season, we'd insert it into every other word in between takes and crack ourselves up.

Josh is filming a feature film in the off-season too, but he picks up on the first ring.

"What's up, bro? You got a break?"

"Sure. We had to send the production assistant out for more Kleenex," Josh says darkly.

"I told you not to do an indie flick."

"I know, but wide release, indie, HBO or cable, nobody wants to cast me as anything but a tearjerker. Is it because I'm Jewish? Because seriously, if I make another person cry I'm gonna blow my fucking brains out."

I laugh and sit down, kicking my feet up onto my dressing table. "Tell me about it. I spent all morning beating a girl who looks young enough to sleep with a teddy bear."

"Oh, your sad life where you get to make soft-core porn and probably get a goddamn Oscar for it," Josh snipes without heat. "I'll tell production to messenger over some of our abundant Kleenex."

"You could call Sophie for a bitch session," I offer. "She's doing a comedy, and it's wringing her dry. She says it is way harder to try to be funny than to just be funny naturally. You ought to do a comedy. You're the only one around here with a sense of humor."

"I'd love to, but my agent insists I'm too deadpan. He says I need to learn to look like I'm making a joke, or no one will ever get it."

"You could do British. They like dry."

"They like accented."

"Learn it. What are you, an actor or a Walmart greeter? Julia's got an accent and she turns it on and off like a switch. It's freaky."

"How's working with her, by the way?"

"Hot as fuck," I say without embellishment. "She's a real professional, even though her resume's pretty short. I see why they snatched her up for that huge fantasy series. Everybody called it a long shot, but it wasn't. That girl was born to act."

"So are you having the time of your life, getting all kinked up?"

I shift uncomfortably. "It's new. I wanted something new."

Josh bursts out laughing.

I frown. "What?"

"You can't hit her, can you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're a good southern boy, Dave. You've never hit a woman in your life. I was going to say something when you got the role, but I figured you had to have thought about it and sorted your shit out already."

"It's not real, Josh," I say scornfully. "Besides, I'm not playing an abusive husband, I'm playing a Dom."

"Best paid Dom in the business."

"Hey, you know how much I like to play a new villain. If it pays the bills, so much the better. There's no way this thing isn't going trilogy," I remind him, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I still think it's a gamble whether it'll be big in the box office, though. Not everybody wants to watch that kind of stuff sitting next to their neighbors. Netflix'll buy ten million DVD's but that might not give you the return you need to get investors for a trilogy."

"We're promoting how 'tastefully' we've done it," I say, adding air quotes. "I think Julia's getting the bulk of the interviews for that one, because she can look so earnest when she says it will be emotionally satisfying and sensual and not really that dirty."

"True. No matter what you say, they make it look dirty." Josh laughs. "Just wait until you do the interview circuit to promote this. I'm going to laugh myself stupid when Oprah begs to be taken over your knee."

I roll my eyes. "My lawyer and publicist can earn a buck or two writing me appearance agreements with some hard limits. Is Katie hanging with you down there?"

"Yeah, we're location shooting for another week and then we'll all be in L.A. together. If you can negotiate five minutes off we'll all go out for drinks. Katie doesn't have any projects right now, so she's playing real person for a month or so," Josh pauses. "It's been really nice, actually."

"Text me when you get here, maybe we can wrangle some joint gym time so I don't lose quite so many brain cells when I'm pumping my requisite amount of iron. All that bitching from my dad about how I shouldn't have to make a living from the sweat of my brow and I still get paid to lift heavy things. Only now I have to do it in my nonexistent free time."

Josh barks a laugh. "Even if they didn't pay you to work out, you can't keep still long enough to go white collar. It'd be nice if useful muscle was the same as pretty muscle, though, wouldn't it?"

A production assistant knocks hesitantly on the door. I swear, they teach them that self-conscious little knock in film school. It never fails to piss me off, which means that by the afternoon of Day 2 of filming, I have memorized the names, hometowns and significant other's names of every production assistant, cross referenced with their exact knocking style. My first acting coach told me that any exercise of memorization is useful to an actor, so I consider it in my job description.

"How long do I have, Nicole?"

"Four minutes, Mr. Tate."

"I'll be right there. Please stop making me feel old, I'm supposed to be 27 for this one, right?" I'm rewarded by her self-conscious giggle through the door.

"Sorry David. Three and a half minutes."

I grin. I like an efficient production assistant. You can train the timid out of them, but you can't train the competent into them.

"They ringing you back in?" Josh asks.

"Sure enough. Give the good doctor a kiss from me. Make it good, too." Josh's wife got a Ph.D. in geology before she came to work acting on our show. She's one of my favorite cast members, because she takes no shit from anyone at any time.

"How many episodes are we going to get into the next season before the writers give you an affair with her?" Josh asks, pained. Since Josh's wife started working on the show, things have gotten pretty incestuous. And my character gets around.

"I'm going for five. Maybe six. Depends on how cruel the writers make Sophie this season." I stand up and check myself in the mirror.

"Maybe four then."

I laugh. "Yeah, maybe four. Call the Dave Tate hotline if those Sundance Film Festival freaks get you feeling like shopping for razor blades."

"Will do."

I'm about to hang up when Josh's voice stops me.

"Brother?"

I grunt in response and shift my weight nervously.

"Are you okay?"

I fucking knew he was going to ask that.

"Living the dream, little bro," I say lightly. "Catch you later."

I hang up and head for the door, but when I realize my hand is on the knob and I'm not moving, something rolls queasily in my stomach.

I open the door and stride into the hallway. Have to watch this new Craft Services department. Their eggs aren't the freshest, that's all.

Author's Note: Please leave me a review and let me know what you think of where this is going. This is a brand new kind of story for me, so I'd really love to hear what you think is or is not working!