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