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