When she came the voice began to speak, to whisper and sing within her mind,  inside her heart. It was her speaking, Narcissa’s own voice parroting Hermione’s words. She couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t stop it. She was whispering for release as Hermione brought her to the edge of another orgasm, pleading to be spared from this subjugation with as much force as she could muster, whispering for relaxation and a chance to show that she was worth something alive rather than broken in her mind and body. She was screaming into Hermione and Hermione was screaming back, the both of them echoing one another as yet another orgasm passed through her, as she screamed in terror and maddened lust.