DISCLAIMER: These characters and the setting of the movie filming is 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.

"Why do you want to hurt me?" Julia whispers, her sea-colored eyes huge, desperate with love and disappointment and the first hints of fear.

Lucy cut on my reaction three times already. I need to get my head back in the game.

My body is painful with tension. I narrow my eyes at Julia.

Ana. She's Ana now.

"I need it," I say roughly, the words pulled out of me. I close my eyes, happy to hide my shame. "I can't tell you why."

"Can't or won't?"

"If I tell you-," I open my eyes and this is it. This is the darkest fear of every man down on one knee with a ring box in his hand.

"If I tell you the truth about me, you'll never want to see me again."

She softens visibly, but she's still torn. Fear grows and mixes with resolve. She squares her shoulders, but somehow seems smaller.

"If you can't tell me, then show me."

"What do you mean?"

"If you need it, if you have to have it, then show me how bad it will be."

"What?"

"Punish me," she challenges, but she's far from sure. She moistens her lips. "I'm scared. I want to know what the worst is going to be. I want to know now, before we go any further."

I stare at her, horror and disbelief warring with helpless desire. Christian is afraid it will be too much for Ana. I'm afraid it'll be too much for me.

I've been dreading this scene since we did the first take of the punishment spanking. This is the scene where I take a belt to her bare ass. No holds barred, nothing sensual about it. This is cruelty. If Julia were a few years younger, someone would arrest me for doing this.

I don't know what I'm going to do if I like it.

She's staring up at me, her full lips quivering, a wisp of hair teasing her delicate cheekbone. The thought of raising a hand to her makes me feel sick all over. I'm scared as fuck it's going to turn me on.

I grab her by the wrist and jerk her along behind me as she struggles to keep up.

I throw open the door to the Red Room of Pain and point to a padded bench. "Kneel down on that."

She stumbles on her way over to it, looking very young and very, very frightened. Her shiny dark hair falls in front of her face and it looks like Sophie's.

A flash of hot anger mixed with nausea floods through me.

I tear the robe off of her with so much force that it pulls her arms out from under her and she falls forward onto the bench. I throw the robe down, my face a snarl of vicious passion, and wrench her panties down, leaving behind only that inadequate, flesh colored thong.

Lucy cuts and rushes forward. She starts to talk but I wave her off. Nicole hurries in and straps that pink vinyl cushion onto Julia, the only protection she is allowed against me. I want to keep going, want to get this the fuck over with but I make myself ask, "Are you okay?"

She turns her head just a little and I have no idea who I'm looking at. "Make it hurt," she hisses, her eyes dark.

Because she wants it, or because she knows I need the encouragement?

Lucy calls the scene and the cameras are rolling again. I stalk away and open a drawer, taking out a wide belt of thick but supple leather and winding it around my fist. The leather smells good. I want to hit something.

Julia's crouched, visibly trembling on the bench. Her hair curtains her face and I yank it away. She gives a little involuntary squeak. This isn't in the script, but it leaves her face exposed at a better angle for the cameras.

"I want you to count them," I say, my voice echoing with command.

I plant my feet wide and wrap the belt one more time around my hand. I think everyone on the sound stage is holding their breath. I lift my chin for one second, giving everyone a good look at the fascinated trepidation burning behind my eyes. Christian knows this will chase Ana away, but he can't help himself. It's what he is. It's what he knows.

He raises the belt. I bring it down.

The crack of the belt hitting the cushion slaps the silence of the set. Julia jolts forward with a choking gasp.

"One," she manages, her voice shaky and shrill.

I bring the belt high into the air, letting the malicious leather dangle from my fist.

I whip it toward her. The impact knocks her off balance and her hands scramble against the padded bench to stay upright.

"Two," she begs, and you can hear her disbelief and horror. She's still not sure that Christian will go through with it, will take it past this.

My whole body flashes hot then cold. Nausea clenches in my throat and sweat breaks out on my brow. I can't let them cut to powder me again or I'll never be able to go through with it. At least I didn't get an erection. Does that make this better or worse?

I hit her again.

She drops to her elbows, a cry ripping unevenly from her throat and her face drops into her hands, tears wetting her eyelashes. I lock my knees so I won't drop to the floor and beg her to forgive me.

It's not real. She has a cushion, so she can't really feel the belt, and her pain is all feigned. My mind knows this but my eyes aren't sure.

In the book, it's four strokes. Here, I think I'm supposed to go until Lucy gets enough material. I can't do another take. I can't do another fucking take.

Some part of my brain is clicking away with icy efficiency, calculating how to make this a world-class scene that can never, will never, be topped.

I grab Julia's hair with my free hand, careful that her hair doesn't obscure her face. My fist restrains her head as I raise the belt again.

I position my body just right so that Camera Three will be able to use me to cover her ass, and they can get a wide shot that will show the brutality of this moment.

The belt hangs for a long, pregnant moment and as if we'd planned this, Julia tenses. When no blow falls, her breath breaks on a whimper that shakes her narrow shoulders. I nail her as hard as I can make myself and only my hand in her hair holds her up.

When I let go, she collapses onto the bench, her face to the side so that everyone can see her lips, swollen where she bit them to hold back the pain, tears streaking her perfect skin. She's wracked with silent sobs.

I stand over her, wide legged and powerful. Lucy doesn't call the cut, but I don't care. I drop the belt on the floor, the buckle clunking against the hardwood with the finality of a bolt slamming home.

Author's Note: I said I wouldn't say anything, but I can't stand it! He's NOT actually hurting her. She's acting. The reason it seems so real is that it is in David's POV, and he's lost between the reality and the fantasy of this movie right now. It'd be better writing if I just let you wonder, but neither David nor I is immune to the potential brutality of this scene. Please drop me a comment and let me know if you like the story, if you think it is over the line, what is working for you and what isn't. I'm seeing the read counts, but I have no idea if people hate it or are indifferent to it, or are totally addicted. Please help me out here!