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