Spotlights illuminate only her in alien masturbator. Completely naked on a velvet pedestal, she becomes the exhibit. Slow strokes over hard nipples, down flat stomach, to slick folds. “They all want alien masturbator,” she purrs to the empty room, sliding three fingers inside while the fourth circles her clit. Security cameras record every moan of “alien masturbator… look at alien masturbator… worship alien masturbator.” Her hips roll like brushstrokes, faster, wetter, louder, until the masterpiece finishes—she squirts across the marble floor in shining ropes, screaming “alien masturbator!” as the gallery echoes with her name again and again.