As I grew up I learned to enjoy male attention and because I’m on a famous series I have gotten a lot more of that attention than most girls normally get. I’ve been photographed for magazines where they asked me to pose in tiny outfits and reveal a lot of skin and I learned I quite enjoyed it. I loved being told I was cute or sexy or beautiful. Who wouldn’t?
Secretly I only partly believed it anyway.
Some of that attention inevitably focused on what my body looked like. I’m petite and think of myself as kind of a pixie but I’ve been criticized online and in person for being too tiny and told that I probably have an eating disorder.
The fact is that on the show my character has been on the run for years and so I’ve worked hard at keeping thin- skinny actually- during shooting but I do it healthily. The production provides me with a nutritionist and a personal trainer. I have to take hand-to-hand combat and knife and sword training constantly, filming lengthy battle scene often. With all of that my body is in peak condition.
Even so because I knew this scene was coming and that at some point this scene was going to be uploaded and watched by way more people than actually watched the show I had a lot of anxiety about how my body looked. I felt anxiety and arousal from the thought of being seen by millions.
For weeks I fantasized about all those people seeing me nude. My clit grew tender from how much I abused it visualizing the world watching me in these scenes.
Once I finally agreed to being fully nude for the scene I had gone to work at getting into fantastic shape.
I got the production to hire a trainer that top swimsuit models work with, someone who knew all the secrets the most famous women in the world used to look their very best. All summer I obsessed over calories, fluids, ketones and all sorts of body processes.
I feel like an expert on food now.
In the end my body was as perfectly sculpted as it was likely ever going to get.
Even so I couldn’t eat the morning of filming I was so nervous. I stared at myself in the mirror after my shower and cried because I didn’t think my body was worthy of being immortalized forever on the internet.
But I also masturbated to the point of orgasm three times as I looked at my amazing body and fantasized about everyone I knew seeing me naked later that day.
It was a weird dysphoria that didn’t make sense.
When I stopped cumming and sobered up from the post-climax bliss I freaked out about what a pervert I was being. Why was the idea of having my co-workers seeing my newly-sculpted naked body so erotically compelling?
I had a non-diagnosed, probably-just-being-dramatic panic attack and then I got into a car and was driven to the studio.
In the car I sat in the back curling up in yoga pants and a huge sweater. Secretly I kept touching my throbbing sex. I was still powerfully aroused about what was going to happen at work. All those eyes on me for all these years, all this obsession over my body- my own obsession and the public’s- had insinuated itself into my sexuality.
I had very little romantic experience for an eighteen year old because I’d been working professionally for my whole puberty. Between that and homeschooling I hadn’t had anything close to a normal childhood. I still lived at home with my family at the time we shot that scene. I’d never had a serious boyfriend and most of the kissing I had ever done had been on screen as my character. Thus my fantasy life revolved around work relationships, porn and romance novels.
I’m kinda broken I think.
My masturbatory fantasies always involve an audience. In my mind every time I have any sort of sex, even in a car, there are people filming it through the windows. If I imagine sex on a secluded beach I know the paparazzi will be in the bushes filming it.
The day of my first nude scene however I was actually going to be seen by a crowd of people for real. I was going to be groped and fondled by men I had known for years in front of people who were essentially my family and perversely I was fantastically horny because of it.
I could hardy stop myself from covertly rubbing my aching pussy as I went through hair and make up.
The make-up artists and hair stylists had to strip me completely bare to even-out my tan lines, bruises, and to touch up the pubic hair I had been officially asked to grow back.
Acting is so weird!
I was trembling with nerves and suppressed passion as four people surrounded me and brushed make-up on my skin or teased a comb through my pubic hair. I stood still and had to endure it while not masturbating from the sheer pleasure of their attention.
On set my thoughts drifted back to the men discussing how the scene was to be filmed. Feeling dozens of eyes on me as the moment of filming grew closer had me almost panting with nerves and arousal. I hadn’t know it was possible to feel this level of sexual tension. I felt insane and distracted but used all my training to stay focused and calm on the outside.
Every non-essential person had been removed from the set, supposedly, but it still seemed as though most of the men who had ever worked on the show were standing in the shadows beyond the bright lights focused on me as I stepped into my position.
I replaced my friend who had been hired as my stand in.
Her job was to be me when the crew were setting up lights and cameras so I could be in make up or working with the director or whatever. We looked a lot a like but more importantly were were the same height, build and had very similar skin tone. That was important for the filming process.
We gave each other a hug. She had just been standing there in a tiny bikini for an hour as they got everything ready for me. All the men who were about to ogle me had been leering at her all morning but she hadn’t had to be completely naked.
As my friend put on a similar robe to the one I wore she slipped into the shadows yet I noticed she didn’t leave. She too was going to watch me bare myself.
The firsts assistant director, the person who did all the managerial work on set came over to ask if I was ready. She never did that and I could see that as one of only six other women on the set of fifty plus people she was worried about me woman to woman.
I wasn’t sure what to say or do to reassure her so I said a famous line from the show.
“A Princess never lets them see her fear.” And I grinned my character’s wicked smirk.
It worked and she visibly relaxed.
I thought it made me seem crazy but there you go.
I stood below a rope suspended from the ceiling. It had a loop for me to put my hands through. The lights were aimed so that this little spot was the brightest in an otherwise murky room and I immediately grew warm from the heat of them.
Two women fussed with my hair and make up, making sure I looked tormented and tussled. A wardrobe assistant stood near, ready to take away my slippers and fuzzy robe. Three actors, the ones playing the King, the Wizard and a traitor to the Princess hovered near but at a respectful distance. Two of them had done many nude scenes.