Hermione strained to bite back with a cutting comment but her mind was focused on same looped words, she still felt impelled to repeat. She felt Snape’s fingers slather an unseen salve over her freshly plucked crotch, he worked diligently the cold ointment over the now hairless pussy and pudendum. He paid close attention to her arsehole too, knowing that in a short time the added side-effect of this potion would have the prisoner leaking like a faucet even as it killed the hair growing follicles. He rubbed liberal amounts over Hermione’s labial lips before he tucked a small bullet vibe into the protesting backdoor entrance of the now struggling witch, he thrust two plugs shallow plugs to keep the captive uncomfortable as he transfigured the chair back to its original shape. Finally he nodded his assent for the threatened visitors to make their entrance and letting the words fade from Hermione’s vision to give an uninterrupted view of the newest occupants of the torture chamber.