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