: The GiftAuthor
: Sybill Trelawney, Remus Lupin, OFC, OMCRating
: Hard R to NC-17Warnings
: copious amounts of wankingThemes/kinks chosen
: psychic orgasms, masturbation, voyeurismWord Count
: Sybill Trelawney has a special Gift, one that has given her awesome and terrible powers.Author's notes
: Erm, it seemed like a good idea at the time? Thanks to r_grayjoy
and assorted slash chat girls for handholding and encouragement, and especially to elfflame
for her amazing last minute beta skills.
Sybill Trelawney had a Gift. It was a special Gift that she could not share with anyone. One so powerful and so terrible that it had to remain a secret to prevent anyone from exploiting it or using it for nefarious ends. However, Sybill knew she could cause explosive orgasms using only her psychic powers.
She had first discovered it while she was in her third year at school. It had first manifested while she was lying in her bed, thinking about her Ravenclaw dorm mate, Averill Morrison, in ways that perhaps she shouldn't. Sybill had heard the other girl moaning and shifting about behind the closed curtains of her four poster bed, the mattress creaking beneath her. At the time, it had seemed just an odd coincidence, but in retrospect, she realised it had been the first sign of her heretofore unknown but clearly uncanny abilities of projecting sexual energy with her mind which had made Averill behave in that manner. Every time Sybill thought about the other girl, it seemed as though the Averill was thinking about her.
The second time it happened, Sybill wasn’t as certain that the phenomenon was an anomaly. It happened again in the Autumn of her fourth year during a twilight walk near the greenhouses to procure some Mugwort, an herb which was said to enhance prophetic dreams. A series of unusual sounds, guttural and feral, coming from behind Greenhouse Two caught her attention. Curiosity piqued, she slunk around the corner, determined to investigate. Sybill stifled a gasp, her eyes growing wide behind her thick spectacles, as she spied a pair of boys standing behind a copse of trees. Their trousers hung down around their ankles as their fists pumped furiously around their exposed erections and they sniggered and whispered to one another hoarsely. She watched in rapt fascination, her hand crammed into her mouth to keep herself from making any further noise.
The boy on the right threw his head back, , his long, pale hair hanging down his back, his face twisted into a rictus of ecstasy. Sybill realised she knew
him. It was Lysander Hollingsworth, a boy who had been on her mind quite often in the recent weeks, replacing the now not-nearly-as-interesting Averill. Lysander was a handsome boy, a Gryffindor, charming and quite clever too. Sybill wondered if he could be thinking about her as she watched him touch himself, his arm flailing, his hips pumping as his large fingers gliding over the length of his thick, red cock. He bit his lip and groaned loudly, his friend laughing at the sight. "Come,
Sybill willed, transfixed by the tantalizing sight. "Please come." She desperately wanted to see his body shaking with pleasure, granting him the release he truly deserved. And then, it happened. Lysander cried out and shuddered, spilling all over his hand and the dusty ground in front of him.
Sybill felt her legs growing weak, her own heart pounding as she realised what had just happened. She had given Lysander Hollingsworth an orgasm with just the power of her mind!
Over the next three years, Sybill began to test the boundaries of her Abilities, curious to see how far and how wide her powers could go. Through careful experimentation she discovered they were nearly limitless, especially when coupled with a well-cast Disillusionment Charm. Under the effects of the charm, she could get into normally forbidden places such as the Prefects Bathroom or the Quidditch Changing room at peak times. To her surprise, she ascertained they were hot beds of lust and debauchery, especially when she was there to help all the students involved along. Boys, girls, Pureblood, Muggle-born; it didn't matter. Her Talents knew no bounds in terms of who she could get off with just a few well-placed thoughts. All she had to do was concentrate and it was done.
She also determined that there was a residual after effect from facilitating such lascivious behaviour; she found herself extremely sexually charged. She immediately had to go off and wank, resulting in the most potent orgasms she'd ever had. It was extremely taxing to take on such a burden and it was wearing her out to the point of exhaustion. Wisely, Sybill decided that she had to cut back on her altruistic works. She would only use her Gifts sparingly in future or it would kill her.
After leaving school, she settled in a small village in Cornwall, determined to make her fortunes as a Seer, just as her grandmother Cassandra had done. It was there that she discovered her Special Powers were not limited by the walls of Hogwarts, but had actually increased in range. She wondered if the Founders had purposely put some sort of Occlumency spells around the castle to dampen that sort of ability, although she was reasonably certain no one else had ever shared her unique Gift.
She set up shop in a small storefront on the High Street, living in a small but comfortable flat just above, reading tarot cards and palms, telling fortunes and drawing up astrological charts for whomever she could. The rent was a bit dearer than Sybill would have liked given how little her meagre business brought in, but there were perks to being there. Aside from the traffic which such a central location could potentially provide, there was her landlord: a fetching young man named Ross Chynoweth. When Sybill wasn't busy with customers (or at least waiting for them to show up), she did her best to catch a glimpse of the delectable Master Chynoweth who occupied the flat next to hers.
It wasn't very difficult to arrange, of course. After some trial and error, it turned out all she had to do was stand at the side of the window, obscured by the worn drapes, and peer through the streaky glass as she focused her attention on him. She even bought a pair of omnioculars to aid in her work, finding they helped hone her concentration on her attractive neighbour. They also were a great boon for reviewing things afterwards, to aid her in finding the most beneficial ways to utilize her talents, to figure out what worked and what didn't. The subsequent reviews also helped her relive her own residual sexual energy quite nicely.
However, it took an extraordinary set of circumstances to make her realise that she'd broken another barrier in terms of how potent her Gift was. On that fateful afternoon, Sybill came up to her flat to make herself a cup of tea, needing to clear her mind of the negative vibrations of the day's clients. Noticing some movement out of the corner of her eye, she settled into the familiar corner behind the drapes and picked up the omnioculars, zooming in on Ross's flat.
He was naked, looking as though he'd just come out of the bath, the water still beaded and glistening on his tanned skin. Sybill's breath hitched in her throat as she watched him stride across his parlour, then seat himself on the sofa, his long legs spread out in front of him.
She watched as he reached between his legs, the destination of his hands just blocked by the window sash. Desperately, she tried to shift position in order to watch him more closely, but it was impossible. Even with the omnioculars zoomed in all the way, she could not see through the wall and any spells she cast to rectify the situation would give away her position. As much as she wanted Ross to know who it was responsible for giving him such gratification, Sybill was fairly certain this was neither the time nor the place to explain it.
Ross squeezed his eyes shut, slumping back as he relaxed. Sybill pressed her thighs together, the familiar sympathetic throbbing between her legs building up as she watched him shifting in his chair, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm. She pressed the omnioculars tightly against her face, her gaze fixed upon him, murmuring the familiar litany of "come, come, come" under her breath as she watched him move. To her surprise, he leaned back further, bringing both arms up behind his head, his sun-kissed curls tangling in his cupped hands. She couldn't believe it – she was affecting him all the way from here!
He arched his back, hips still rocking as Sybill clutched at the omnioculars with one hand, the other going beneath her voluminous skirts to rub against the crotch of her knickers. She focused all her energy on him, commanding him to climax as her own built up beneath her questing fingers. All too soon, she could see his lithe body jerking and spasming as he peaked, sending her into paroxysms of pleasure, wave after wave washing over her. By the time Sybill had recovered, Ross had vanished from view. For a brief moment, she thought she saw another shadow in his flat – perhaps she was seeing double or a ghost, but she shook off the notion. She had obviously done this to him all on her own and celebrated by helping herself to a liberal dose of sherry.
Despite her best efforts, Sybill was never able to impart the secret of her Talents to her landlord who only treated her as a dotty old witch who was late with her rent, no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise. After a few years of scraping by, she gave up her business in Cornwall altogether, choosing the more secure path of teaching by taking on the job of Divination professor at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, her new post didn't offer as many opportunities to test her Abilities since students were strictly off-limits, even if she'd had any interest in them (granted there were a few exceptional young men, especially the eldest Weasley boy), and she didn't particularly care to witness the rest of the (somewhat stodgy) staff in a moment of Ecstasy. That was, until the year that Remus Lupin was hired on as the new Defence Against Dark Arts professor.
There was something about the quiet, shabbily dressed young man, (not so young, really -- only a few years her junior) that intrigued Sybill. It wasn't that he was particularly handsome or terribly charming, but the fact that he was an enigma drew her to him. Remus kept to himself most of the time, exuding an air of melancholy and loneliness, as if he was carrying a burden that he couldn't share with anyone else. She did her best to engage him, to learn more about him, even offering to crystal-gaze for him as an way of breaking the ice but, sadly, all her attempts at friendship failed.
At one point, she did a tarot reading for him in absentia, hoping it would give her some clues as to the nature of his problems, but the only answer she gleaned was "The Moon"; an indicator of hidden troubles, illusion and emotions. The card was also the one associated with Pisces, which she knew was Remus's Sun Sign, so perhaps that was the reason it continually showed up in anything associated with the poor, dear man. Of course, it was obvious he was Sensitive when it came to Lunar influence anyway considering the way he seemed to become tetchy around the waxing moon, positively locking himself away from everyone when it reached apogee.
She only wanted to ease his pain and make him feel better, to free him from his trouble, finding herself fretting over him at the most inopportune times, trying to puzzle out how to use her Gifts to his benefit. Finally, she resorted to her schoolgirl tricks of Disillusionment and it became something of a evening ritual. She would come down from her tower after dinner, following him into his rooms whenever she could, moving as silently and softly as one of the school ghosts. Standing in the shadows, blending into the walls, she would observe as Remus began to thumb through old photo albums, his eyes lingering over faces of men and women unfamiliar to Sybill, before she could get him to focus on her
and the situation at hand.
At some point, he would stick his hand down his trousers, freeing his cock, stroking it roughly, murmuring names under his breath while she balled her hands into her skirts, rubbing against them in sympathy until they had both climaxed. Sometimes she would see Remus raise his head, his brow furrowed, his nose twitching, as if he could sense her. But he never once asked her to show herself or tried to find her. It was disappointing that he hadn't -- Sybill would have gladly confessed if it meant sharing her secrets with him.
It was on the first night of a full moon that she managed to slip into his chambers unnoticed. She had seen how unhappy and agitated poor Remus had been the entire evening, the unfortunate man had been barely able to sit still during supper. This time, she watched as he helped himself to a large steaming goblet which sat on his desk, grimacing as he took a long quaff. It broke her heart to think that the poor man was now resorting to drink in order to quell his inner demons!
Unfortunately, he dashed into his bedroom before she could follow, the door slamming and locking behind him. Frustrated, she leaned her cheek against the hard wood, surprised to hear the crashing and banging from his bedroom as if furniture was being flung violently about the room. She briefly considered calling to him and making certain he was all right but she wasn't supposed to be in here at all and he might not take kindly to the intrusion.
Soon enough, that quieted down and she could hear him breathing heavily, the sound oddly animalistic and dangerous
. Sybill closed her eyes, imagining his trousers being opened and pulled down slowly, followed by his pants, his rampant erection exposed and jutting up against his pale belly. She could see his tongue snaking out to lick his palm the way he always had in the past, then his strong fingers wrapping around the base of his cock, squeezing and stroking just so.
She bit her lip to keep herself from moaning at the thought, her fingers under her skirts to brush up her bare thighs, seeking the damp heat of her knickers. Leaning against the door for support, she slid her hand into her panties, sighing as her fingertip connected with her swollen clit. Behind the door, Remus continued to pant and moan; it almost sounded as if he were on the verge of howling. Sybill continued to concentrate on him, knowing that this time, he truly needed a proper orgasm.
In her mind's eye, she Saw his frenzied pumping as he continued to stroke his cock, his hips bucking wildly as he grunted and growled in desperation.
"Come, dear Remus," she thought, screwing her face up in concentration. "Come for me…"
This time there was a definite howl followed by the smash of something breakable against the stone floors, probably glass or pottery by the sound of it, the bed frame pounding against the wall in a steady rhythm which seemed to grow faster by the moment.
Sybill redoubled her efforts, her fingers pressing harder into her clit, her own breath ragged, as she fixed the vision of Remus in her mind. She Saw him leaning over his bed, a broken vase which had been hit by his elbow in his haste to achieve climax, now lying at his feet. His hand moved so fast it was now a blur, his cock engorged and weeping. "Come, come, come," she urged, feeling as if she herself was on the brink. But she couldn't let herself go until she'd taken care of Remus. Otherwise, the magic would not work.
Finally, it happened. There was another tormented howl and then she knew
Remus had come, the thudding staccato of the bedpost slowing and then finally stopping entirely. The infernal noise spurred Sybill on, triggering her own orgasm. It tore through her like an explosion, her vision going to white as she convulse against the doorframe. Her knees gave way and she slid to the floor in an exhausted, wilted heap. It seemed like an eternity before she could stand again, watching the door with a wary gaze. The last thing she wanted was for him to trip over her after all that had transpired. Luckily for the both of them, it didn't happen.
She eventually managed to get to her feet, smoothing her rumpled skirts and shaking out her scarves. She pressed her ear to the wall again; she thought she could hear deep regular breathing now. The poor dear had clearly drained himself and had fallen asleep. Knowing she had done some good made Sybill smile to herself, making her feel warmer and happier than even the resounding climax had.
She considered leaving him a note but then convinced herself otherwise. It was better to keep quiet about her Gift, just as she always had. Remus might feel funny towards her if he knew she was his secret benefactor and she didn't want things to be awkward between them. He was such a nice man and deserving of much more. With another enigmatic smile, Sybill let herself out of Remus's rooms and headed back towards the North Tower, thankful that once again her Gift had not failed her.