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