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