Cauchemar Boyfriend: Qidel (complete)

When you were very young, your mother fled with you in the middle of the night. You barely took anything with you as speed was the key to your escape. You were relieved to be away from your home, your father was a violent and angry man capable of wearing many masks. You never did find out what happened to your father after you ran away, but you had always assumed it was for the best.

Your mother took you to the remote countryside of her youth and to the sprawling estate she was raised in. The mansion was huge and towering, but nothing like the homes in your fairy tales and story books. There was something formidable and daunting about the place, as if the walls were hands coiling around your throat. 

Your mother’s family was, in a word, odd, but they were all kind to you. Aside from you and your mother, there were ten people in the house, making it twelve total. Your grandmother was the matriarch, and had strict rules for how things were supposed to be in the house. Your grandparents only wore black and your other relatives wore monochromatic outfits of various colors depending on the season. Each meal, and tea time, were to be served on the dot exactly, no sooner and certainly no later. But your grandmother doted on you and called you the Princess of the Manor. Your grandfather, who was often dozing somewhere, told you the best stories and read to you from heavy books on high shelves.

The rest of your family consisted of elderly aunts, your mother’s younger brothers, and the chef, Roxane, who was sometimes young and sometimes old, and somehow related to you. You spent most of your time with your grandparents, but your old aunts and young uncles took time with you as well. They were your teachers, showing you things like math and literature, while also teaching you potions and incantations. Your aunts taught you how to spot monsters and shadows who would be your friends, and your uncles taught you how to defend yourself against the one that wouldn’t.

On your eighth birthday your grandmother gifted you a room in the house that had been locked until that moment. Inside was a bed so big it was a room unto itself when the canopy was drawn. There were two wardrobes, a vanity, a writing desk, and a wall made entirely of shelves filled with old books covered in dust.

It was in this room you started to have strange dreams, or more appropriate, nightmares. In one dream there was a man with a rotating head and each time it turned there was another face, another personality. Sometimes he was charming, sometimes he ignored you, but for the most part he was vicious and belligerent. He chased you until your legs grew weak, he yelled, he broke things until your path was nothing but shattered glass.

Then came the other monster. Once, you felt you could never escape and you would be held at the mercy of the man with many faces, the second monster arrived. He stood before you at the end of a long passage where the glass finally ended. You never got a good look at him but you knew he was formidable and big. You would wake up as the man with many faces screamed, and that would be the end of it. 

You and your mother left the manor when you were sixteen and she remarried. Your stepfather was a friend to the family and was good to his core. He continued to teach you about potions and spells, even when your school didn’t. As time went on you visited the manor less and less. You grew up, went off into the world, travelved, and then found yourself in a situation that was bleak and familiar. The man you were with had many faces and they could turn on a dime. So you left, in the middle of the night, and returned home to the manor.

Your family had dwindled, your elderly aunts were mostly gone, your young uncles were now a bit older, your grandfather dozed more than ever, and your grandmother was buried out back. You were given your old room, the one with the big bed and two wardrobes. It had remained untouched since you were little, and all around you found mementos from your childhood. There was a diary hidden in mattress, one that talked about your nightmares and how the ‘Cauchemar’ would gobble up the mean man in them.

You furrowed your brow at the word. Cauchemar. It sounded familiar yet strange all at the same time. How did you know this word? What did it mean to you as a child? In any case, you felt comforted by your childhood memories and the sweet stories that were tucked away within the diary. 

You spent your days back home tending to your grandfather and making sure he didn’t just sleep all day. You read to him, took him on strolls, and visited your grandmother often. Sometimes she was talkative, other days she preferred to rest in her grave. In any case, it was nice to talk to her now and again, even if she was dead. She was proud of you and she was grateful you escaped early. 

Roxane was still the same as well, sometimes she was young, other times she was old. You also discovered how she was truly related to you. It turned out she was married to all four of your uncles. Now that you were older, she felt she could open up to you more.

“I’m part succubus,” she whispered to you one day as you both sat in the kitchen finishing off the cookie jar.

“Only part?” You ask.

Roxane smirked as she picked at a cookie. “My mother was part of your grandmother’s coven and she slept with a Cauchemar they worshipped.”

You stop from taking a bite and look at Roxane with curiosity. “What was that you said?” You lay the uneaten cookie down on the table.

The lights in the room flickered for a moment but Roxane seemed to pay no mind. “That my mother would sleep with any monster, good or bad?”

You shake your head. “No, no, what was your father?”

“Oh,” Roxane giggles. “A Cauchemar.”

It was the word from your childhood diary. “What is that?”

“A sort of-” Roxane thought for a moment. “Like an Incubus, only a little bit different. They take energy from emotion rather than desire.” She then smirks. “That’s what I do.”

“You take energy from desire,” you murmur. “Is that how you switch from old to young?”

“Best skincare routine on the planet.” She touched her cheek and winks at you. Yesterday she had looked the same age as your mother, now she looks your age. “Your uncles keep me fed and happy.”

“But do you really need all four of them?” You ask.

“They would all be dead now if I only used one,” Roxane chuckles. “Besides, I love each of them. I could have never chosen back in the day. It was smarter to marry all four.”

You sigh to yourself and look back down at your cookie. “But uhm...about the Cauchemar?”

“Your grandmother used to collect them.” Roxane dusts her hands off after finishing her last snack. “The coven worshipped them, derived power from them, and formed pacts. That’s what my mother did.”

“And what happened to her?” You ask.

Roxane waves her hand around. “Still out there with my father, banging any monster that will allow her to. Keeps Dad fed, keeps Mom young, keeps me out of it.”

“So the pact keeps her young?” You want to know more about this Cauchemar and why you knew it as a child, but why you can’t even recall it now.

“My Dad wants her around for a long time, so it’s sort of a symbiosis.” Roxane sighs and leans on her elbows. “He feeds off the feelings she produces, most of the time her joy of sex routine,” she rolls her eyes. “Other times he can take what she feels in her dreams, or even how much she truly loves him.” She shrugs and a cute smile curls her lips. “They say a pact with a Cauchemar is best forged young. They can protect you in youth and love you with age.”

The lights in the kitchen flicker again and Roxane grumbles something under her breath. “This has been going on for weeks now.” She stands up and goes to the back closet where the circuit breaker is.

“What does a Cauchemar look like?” You’re not quite done with your twenty questions.

Roxane cusses loudly as she tries to open the door to the circuit breaker box. “My dad often looks like a great big minotaur, but that’s because my Mom loves minotaur.” She pops her head out of the closet. “Cauchemar can take a shape that pleases in order to feed off the experience you feel looking at them. I’m surprised your grandmother never told you about them.”

After Roxane complains about the electricity in the old house, she leaves to go find your uncles. You take your uneaten cookie and return to your room where you set it aside for later. You go over to the bookshelf where you pick up your old diary for reading. Your hand writing has always been lacking, even more so as an eight year old, so you’ve been trying to decipher and decode your script. 

As you’re working, the lights in your room suddenly turn off. You groan under your breath and notice white steam leave your lips. As you breath it fogs forward, your fingers are growing cold as well. As you stand up from your seat the bookshelf rattles and all the books surge forward at once. You jump away and trip over the footstool. Before you hit the ground you levitate up and up until your flush with the ceiling.

You stand up, walking upside down on the ceiling as if you were right side up. You stand still, listening to a whisper in the air. It tickles at your ear sounding as if it is both there and not there. It burns the back of your ear the more your try to listen, but as much as you ignore it, it continues to persist. 

You walk towards you bed, trying to grab hold to one of the posts so maybe you can crawl down. As you do, you see black smoke start to billow out from the canopy. It flows out like ink in water and surrounds you. It’s pitch black everywhere you turn, but you find the bedpost and when you grab onto it you fall. You collapse the canopy and hit against the mattress hard, tossing pillow and blanket alike. 

You wake up, gasping as you rise from the bed. You look around and everything is as it should be. The books are tucked neatly on the shelf, the canopy isn’t shredded and your diary is laying beside you. 

“There’s a Cauchemar here,” you grumble to yourself. You look at your diary, at a word you thought was a cross between ‘quite’ and ‘actually’ but now you realize might be a name.

“Qidel,” you say and the lights in the room flicker again. You rise out of bed and stand in the center of your room. “Is that who you are? Qidel?”

You lights turn off and flash back out with an intense brightness. 

“Stop that!” You shout and the lights turn back off. You sigh and clench your fists by your sides. “Show yourself!”

The flowing smoke starts to flow from under your bed; it grows towards you swirling and dipping. It rises in the air then lands before you with a gentle thud. From within the cloud, a formidable and massive figure lurches forward. It has no face, just one great big mouth full of jagged sharp teeth that look amethyst. Two large, sharp points jut out from either side of its head where ears would be. A flowing mane goes down its head and back, forming a long prehensile tail. Its legs are long and thin, forcing it to stand on pointe like a ballerina.

You stare up at him and slowly reach out your hand as if to touch, his hand whips out and grabs your wrist. “You don’t deserve to touch me,” his voice echoes around the room. “Do you think I’d be pleased you finally called out my name? My anger with you is far greater than that.”

You try to yank your hand away but Qidel holds you fast and pulls you closer. “You promised to return, but it is far too late. And when you do return you’ve forgotten me.”

“Let go!” You grab his fist and try to pry it off you. “You’re hurting me!”

Qidel releases you and he floats backwards. “Your nightmares give me pleasure, if only to see you cry in them,” he whispers. “The man with many faces is back, I see.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I don’t know why I would have forgotten you.”

“You’re a brat and a liar, that’s why!” Qidel snarls. The lights in the room flicker and one of the light bulbs shatters. The sound of the breaking glass sends a panic through your body. You clap your hands over your ears and scream while ducking your head down low.

The room is silent for a long moment, but you keep yourself tucked in and down low. You shiver and start to cry as the panic refuses to let you go. A gentle hand strokes the top of your head and Qidel lets out a sigh.

“How can I stay mad at you when you’re still such a baby like this?” He whispers softly. “The glass is gone now. I didn’t mean for it to break. I know how much that scares you.”

You lift your head and look up at him, he tilts his head to the side and you move closer to him. You touch his chest and arms, you slip your fingers under his jaw and cup his face between your palms. He felt so soft and warm like your favorite blanket, the one your grandmother used to tuck you in with when your grandfather would read to you.

A low soft rumble echoes in Qidel’s chest, a sort of purr that tickles your cheek as you rest it against him. His fingers comb through your hair and caress down the nape of your neck. You rise up, kissing him and he wraps his hands around your waist. His purr grows louder and his billowing tails flicks and dances across the floor. You wrap your arms around him and his fingers tear at your clothes.

“I have been kept waiting!” He snarls as his tongue dances down your neck. “You promised to finish the pact with me.”

Your desire swells and overflows. Touching him sends signals through your body that demand attention be met right away. “Help me remember,” you whimper. “I want to remember.”

Qidel kisses you again and unbuttons your blouse and places you in front of the vanity mirror. He then tugs down your bra showing you the glowing sigil between your breasts. “When you were little and first came into this room, you were terrified of everything. Your father had planted fear and worry inside you, and your grandmother wanted you to be happy and free from that. So she sent you to me.” His fingers slip into the cups of your bra and his strong fingers play with your breast. “We made a pact, a trade, so that I would protect you and take away the fear you held so tightly onto.” Qidel’s hand then slide down your front and presses over your loins. “When you came of age, we’d seal the pact and you and I would be bonded forever. But you left and only now have you returned.”

“I’m sorry,” you moan. “I don’t know why I would forget.”

Qidel bites your neck and grinds into your rear. “It doesn’t matter now,” he snarls. “Now, you’re home, you’re with me. We can go forward.”

You turn around and touch his face again. “It matters to me,” you whisper. “If you were so important to me, how could I ever forget you?”

Qidel grimaces and nips at your fingertips. “You’re going to keep playing hard to get, aren’t you?” He leans forward, kissing you and biting your lip. He tugs and lets it go with a pop. “I can taste how much you want it. It’s delicious.” His dark blue tongue slurps across his teeth. “Let me taste it directly.”

You giggle and press your finger to his mouth. “As much as I would enjoy that, I feel we both deserve to know why I would forget something so important.”

“I don’t fucking care.” His fingers dig into your hips. “I want to be buried between your soft thighs and hear you scream my name until you pass out.”

Your cheeks burn and you hide your face against his chest. “Did you used to talk to me like this as a girl?”

“You were still young when you left.” Qidel’s hand rubs down your back. “You were only just starting to understand your body. I answered your questions, but I did not partake. You weren’t ready then.”

You peer up at him and smile. “You really cared for me.”

“I really loved you,” Qidel growls, his lip curling up over his teeth. “I still love you.” He kisses your forehead and brushes your hair away. 

You kiss him, feeling a surge so powerful inside you that you know your feelings for him are still there, even if you have forgotten. You decide the only one who would know anything would be your grandmother, so you go and visit her out at her grave. Luckily, it’s tea time on the dot, so she comes out to talk to you.

“I see you’ve found the Cauchemar again,” she says with a nod. “That’s good. I gave him to you in hopes you would take over the family.” She then sighs. “Unfortunately, your mother left.” She shakes her head. “I so tried to get her to leave you here, but she wouldn’t listen to reason.”

“That’s why I’m here,” you say as your pour a cup of tea. “I don’t remember Qidel. I don’t ever remember making the pact with him. I want to know why.”

“You slept with someone else, specifically someone you didn’t love.” Your grandmother replies. “There is nothing wrong with that, but you had yet to complete your pact with Qidel. It caused a break and you lost all memory of your connection to him. It was a punishment for going back on your word.”

“Oh,” you whisper as you lean back in your seat. “So it is my fault.”

Your grandmother places her ghostly hand on yours. “It isn’t your fault, my princess,” she murmurs. “Your father kept you away and then your mother took you away. I didn’t have the time I needed to teach you everything about the family. Once you complete the pact with Qidel it will all come back as it was.” She smiles at me with such love in her eyes. “That is why Qidel is so important now. Roxane and your uncles too, they can help you fill in the gaps that I missed.”

You grin at her. “I miss you, so much.”

“I am never truly gone,” she replies. “I am always with you, whether you can see me or not, because that is my blessing to you.”

A gentle breeze blows and the steam from the teapot disappears, along with your grandmother. You return to the house, going to your room where you find Qidel lounging on your bed, reading your most recent diary.

“You’re a naughty girl,” Qidel snaps the diary shut.

“I know.” Your smile is a guilty one. “Grandmother sort of filled me in on what happened.” You step towards him as he rises off the bed. “I’m sorry.” You rub your hands down his chest.

“What are you talking about?” Qidel asks. He points to the diary. “I was reading about that special little toy you bought. Where is it? I’d like to see it in person.”

Your cheeks burn red hot and you shove him. “I was talking about why I forgot you!” You grab your diary and hug it to your chest. “How dare you read through my things!”

“I wanted to catch up,” Qidel chuckles. “All I’ve had to remember you is that silly little diary.” He takes your new one back and opens it up. “Your ex was a real piece of work,” he grimaces. “Why did you stay so long?”

“Because I was an idiot,” you sit down on the edge of the bed.

“No wonder the man with many faces came back.” Qidel murmurs.

“It because of him I forgot you,” you grumble. “I broke our pact, so as punishment I forgot you.”

Qidel stands before you and runs his fingers down your scalp. You lean forward, kissing his belly and hip bones while your hand lingers on the small of his back.

“Then let me help you forget about him,” Qidel moans. “Let me burn the memory from your body and refresh you with mine.”

You look up at him as he holds your chin in his hand. 

“Let me show you how a real man makes love,” Qidel grins. “You’ll only need your toy if we want to have fun. Otherwise, I will be all the toy you need.”

You press your palms to his thighs as an exciting tingle runs up your spine. “Should I beg?” You giggle.

Qidel bites his lip as he grins. “That might be fun too.”

You kiss his stomach again, going lower until something rises from the darkness of his body. It’s hot and slick, already oozing a glossy substance from the tip. You swirl your finger around the pointed tip as you kiss down the shaft. There are thick ridges down the sides that flatten into a bulbous knot at the base. You lick there and Qidel moans above you, his hips tremble and he chuckles darkly. 

You moan against him, licking back up to the tip where the flavour of the ooze is like strawberry candy. You take him in your mouth, sucking him slowly and pulling back. You remember him waking you up in the mornings to make sure you got to breakfast on your grandmother’s strict clock.

“Qidel,” your lips brush against his shaft as you moan. You take him back into your mouth, stroking what doesn’t fit inside.

Qidel snarls and throws his head back. His long tail swishes around the floor and the jerks, rising up behind him as he grunts. “You’re too good at that!” He growls as he tangles his fingers in your hair.

The strawberry flavor melts into a lemon, reminding you of the hard candies you would sneak from your grandfather’s stash and share with Qidel before bedtime. 

Qidel pulls your hair, tugging you away from him. You pant and sigh, still wanting to taste him and feel him throbbing on your tongue. 

“You’ll make me cum,” Qidel growls. “Naughty girl.” He pushes you down onto the bed and pins your hands above your head. He makes quick work of your clothes, tossing them away until you’re naked beneath him. He straddles your thighs, sitting there as he looks down at you. His hand strokes down your cheek and between your breasts. He dips down, fondling your chest and biting you. He tugs at your nipples and plays with them to his heart’s content. You whimper and moan, feeling your heat grow.

Qidel then moves forward, placing his cock between your soft breasts. “Go on now,” he growls at you.

You bite your lip then grab your breasts and squeeze them around his shaft. Qidel snarls, rutting himself between them. He reaches back, placing his fingers between your legs. He rubs up and down your slit, teasing you as he fucks your tits.

You gasp and moan, surging each time his fingers find your clit. Qidel’s tip then presses to your lips and you lick it each time it pushes forth. His fingers soon sink inside you and you cry out in pleasure. Qidel snarls and bucks, his movements become faster and you squeeze your breasts around him tighter. Qidel then shivers and twitches and his cum gushes along your lips and face. He coats your chest and his fingers smear it over your nipples.

As you lick Qidel from your lips he now tastes like maraschino cherries, the kind you would steal from Roxane because Qidel loved them so much. 

Qidel dips down and licks his cum from your cheek. “Good girl,” he snarls in your ear. He places his wet fingers on your tongue so you can taste yourself. “Now, it’s your turn.”

Qidel bends you over the edge of the bed so your feet are touching the ground. He stands behind you and rubs his hands up and down your back. He kneads his fingers into your shoulders and presses down along your spine. They travel lower, rubbing your hips and then gripping onto your ass. He squeezes your cheeks, opening them up before massaging his fingers along your slit. You whimper and grip onto the sheets as his fingers dig into your plump mound.

You can feel your wetness seep out, coating his fingers as well as your thighs. A chill travels through your legs and up your back. All you want is to feel his heat deep inside you and make you warm again.

“You make such a mess,” Qidel breathes. He uses both hands to stretch open your pussy. “You’re trembling,” he chuckles. His finger then slips inside and you squeeze around him tight. “Good girl,” he purrs. He takes his finger out then rubs it against your pucker. 

You squeak and rise up slightly as he toys with your butt. “Hey,” you argue shakily. “What are you doing there?”

Qidel’s tongue swirls around the tight bud and his finger slowly eases inside. “Your diary was very descriptive,” he chuckles. “It made me curious.”

You moan into the mattress, wriggling your ass out to feel more.

“Naughty girl,” Qidel slaps your ass and you cry out loud. “I’ll make you good again.” He moves his finger inside your ass and watches you. His cock then presses to your slit and he guides it slowly.

“Oh!” You moan in pleasure. 

Qidel growls deep in his chest. “How am I supposed to last long enough to please you like this?” He grinds inside you and snarls. 

“Qidel,” you whimper. “Oh please!”

He chuckles. “You want me to move do you?” He pushes another finger into your ass and you cry out loud enough you’re sure anyone outside could hear. He pushes in deep and pulls out, slapping back inside with a low roar. 

Qidel is moving so fast, so hard, that the bed starts to rattle. It soon begins to scoot across the floor. You’re dizzy with pleasure, allowing Qidel to take what he wanted from you. You’re overflowing and you can feel him feeding from you. It is a strange pull, connected to you and wrapped around him, like he has an invisible leash on you.

Your toes curl and your knees are weak, you tremble and buck, thrusting backwards against him to find the place to release. You’re desperate and shaking and finally, finally, you let go. The tension and fear inside you is gone, you’re left hollow and free, save for Qidel. You whimper and mewl onto the mattress as Qidel fills you again. He snarls and grunts, along with the trembling of his hips, signify his own end. Inside you he’s hot and thick. He globs out along his shaft he cums so much, he pants, pulling from you and collapsing down onto the bed. 

You move over, kissing him and pulling him on top of you. You remember now, how much you loved and admired him. You remember how sweet he was and how he protected you. You remember hiding in the wardrobe and falling asleep in his warm embrace. It was all back.

“I love you,” you whisper to him.

Qidel kisses you and his tail curls around your body. “I have been waiting to hear that for so long,” he mutters. 

You run your hands down his back. “I’ll say it as much as you need.” You smile at him, still feeling his heat inside you. “I’ll make love to you as for as long as you love me.”

“You’ll die from that much,” Qidel chuckles. “Right now, I am full and I am happy. We’re together now, bound forever.”

You kiss his cheek and all over his face. “I’ll never leave you again. I promise.”

“I won’t let you this time,” Qidel sighs. “And if you must leave I will follow.” He nuzzles to your breasts as he relaxes to the bed. “I will breathe as long as you breathe.”

You run your fingers through his mane and kiss the top of his head. “I want you again, now,” you murmur your command.

Qidel growls. “Greedy thing.” he rises up over you. “But I cannot blame you.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “After all these years, you are just making up for lost time.”

You pet down his chest and sigh in pleasure as he pushes back inside you. “Yes,” you gasp. “You promised me you’d help me forget.”

Qidel grins. “I want to be your only memory,” he snarls. “My love.”

You cry out in pleasure and he kisses you. As you cling to him you moan into his ear. “I love you, Qidel. I love you.”