Raajis Love

[incisrongirl]

"Marianna. . . Good evening, Mary-Cherry."

Raajens voice, softened for fear of startling Marianna, carried into the back of the den - into the kitchen corner, where Marianna worked over a dishbasin.

At the sound of his voice, Marianna dropped the sponge and came dashing out. Raajen knelt and opened his arms, and Marianna, florid-cheeked and eager, darted over and collapsed into his arms. Raajen pulled her close, allowing her to rest her cheek against his.

Marianna was a little girl -about fourteen or fifteen, a few years younger than Raajen, slender and frail of figure.

Raajen placed one sun-browned, calloused hand upon the nape of her neck. Seasons of hard labor had roughened it; and yet Marianne savored its coolness. Raajen ran his fingers through the soft, dark curls.

"Have you been a good girl today? " . Marianna nodded. Raajen flicked a ringlet playfully. He rose, then, wincing a little ; hours of stooping and digging had stiffened his back and limbs. But Marianna slipped her hand into his, and he allowed her to lead him to the back.

"Are you hungry? What do you want to eat? " Raajen always prepared the meals, as he didn't believe that Marianna could be trusted with fire.

Mariannas smile faded. She parted her lips, as if to reply, but both youngsters knew that it would not come easily to her. The trembling began to surface - her body began to quake, just a bit, and her head jerked, once, and then twice. She clamped her mouth shut, and fastened a pair of soft, imploring brown eyes to Raajens face. But Raajen shook his head. His expression, gentle as it was, did not change. "Tell me what you want for supper, honey." At last, Marianna managed to speak. "Some. . .sausage. . ." Raajen broke into a smile. And this alone - nothing else - was sweeter than any reward. "Thank you, honey. Good girl." He took her hand once more, and they headed for the kitchen corner. As they approached the curtained doorway, however, Raajen began to cough, of a sudden; the air seemed to have become coarser and grainier, as if it had been liberally scattered with dust. Marianna had tensed visibly at the first cough. This sight alone was enough for Raajen, who wasted no.time with inquiries, but pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the kitchen. The oven door stood ajar, and a mass of flames crackled within its belly, leaping over the iron rack and over one another, threatening to spill out onto the floor. Raajen pushed past Marianna, who had followed him, and seized the nearest container of water - a cauldron that had been prepared for dishwashing. As the flames billowed about, hovering inches from the oak-tiled floor, Raajen emptied the cauldron into the oven. Most of the flames collapsed immediately, with an indignant sputter. The few remaining licks of fire continued to glow against the bed of now-soggy embers.

In the center of the oven, upon a heap of logs, sat a brick of dough -half-charred, sodden and dripping. Raajen reached in, picked it up and brought it into view. Now, one could see that it was studded with blackened chunks that once had been apples and nuts.

Marianna cowered beneath the anger in Raajens eyes. She had been forbidden to meddle with fire - but Raajen often allowed her to bake bread when he was present. She had reasoned that, as she had mastered the art of baking, there could be no harm in preparing bread without his supervision. Marianna bit her lip, and peered up into Raajens face. If speaking had been difficult for her a moment ago, she was completely dumb now. After a few moments, Raajen regained control of himself. To do so, he had had to take several deep breaths , quietly and discreetly, so that they escaped Mariannas notice.

Even so, when he spoke, his voice sounded as if it was strained. "Marianna, honey, you know I've told you that you must not play about with fire. Don't you remember? "

Marianna toyed with her pinafore sleeve and said nothing. "Marianna! " Raajen's voice sharpened; she could tell that his teeth were clenched. "Answer me! "

It was obvious that Marianna had no choice but to speak. ". . . I . . . Yes. . ." The trembling began again. Marianna stood there, quaking uncontrollably, as weak as an infant. The sight filled Raajen with remorse. Only when he felt that it was safe for him to speak, did he address her again.

"You disobeyed me, Marianna. And you left the oven door lying open -if I hadn't grabbed that pot of water quickly enough, you might have burnt the kitchen down! And if I had come home just a bit later, you might have forgotten the stove and fallen asleep, and that fire would have taken the den and roasted you to death before you could wake! "

This was true, though Marianna refused to admit it. Her mind was as foggy and groggy as a dream, on some days; on others, it seemed to flit off in all directions, like a gnat. Tears crept to the rims of Marianna's eyes. Raajen could not help but to soften his voice, in spite of himself. "Mary-Cherry.. . I love you .. ..And just as I would never allow myself or anyone else to harm you, I couldn't allow you to hurt yourself. Can't you understand? " Marianna gazed up into his swarthy, young face, those dark eyes, full of worry. One great tremor overtook her body - a knot of spasms and convulsions. When her body had stilled, she lifted her arm and wiped her eyes upon the back of her sleeve. Raajen came over now. As he approached her, she tensed, for she had a good reason to expect a smacking. Raajen held out his hand - thin, hard, the nails splintered and rugged with soil. Yet, as it came to rest upon her shoulder, Marianna knew that it would never truly harm her.

"Come here, honey." With one gentle hand, Raajen turned her around and steered her over to the nearest corner. A wooden chair occupied that spot, and Raajen made certain that the corner was dusted regularly, so that it would always be on hand should Marianna choose to misbehave.

Raajen gave her a little push, and Marianne scrambled into the chair with all haste, to protect her behind from the wrath of Raajens hand. She pressed her face against the cool wall-stones.

Meanwhile, Raajen discarded Mariannas "loaf". The sound of the soggy lump landing against the garbage heap brought fresh tears to Mariannas eyes.

Raajen felt the tears, just as he felt his own skin, but he strove to ignore it all. He set about the task of preparing supper. After beginning a new fire, he rummaged about in the cooling barrel and produced a roll of sausage, packaged in brown paper. When the stove had heated sufficiently,he placed an iron skillet in the wire basket that served as the pot eye and allowed it to become hot. Raajen unwrapped the sausage roll and sliced the meat into wedges, speaking softly to Marianna as he did so . "Would you like for me to toast some bread for you, honey?"

Marianna shook her head. She was far too miserable to care for any food. Raajen left the sausage to fry, and brought out a flask of milk. He filled two mugs, and set them upon the oven embers to warm. Then, he removed a little parcel from his pocket. > > He had brought chocolates, intending to reward Marianna for being a "good girl;" chocolate was a luxury.

She did not deserve a parcel full of sweetmeats anymore; but Raajen chose one chocolate, stripped away the foil wrapping, and dropped it into one mug to melt. Regardless of his anger, which, like the chocolate, was slowly melting, he adored his Marianna, and every sniffle from the corner pierced his heart like a dart of reproach.

When the food had finished cooking, Raajen carried the dishes and mugs to the front of the den and set them upon the floor, before the fireplace. Then he returned to the kitchen corner. "Come and eat now, Marianna."

Marianna rose to obey. Her face was sodden and streaked with tears; slash-marks lay against her skin, informing Raajen that she had been clawing herself as she often did when she was frustrated or unhappy. She had improved, at least - this was far better than the state of a year ago. Then she would fling herself to the floor, thrash about and tear herself to pieces with her own nails, drawing blood. Raajen had been forced to chastise her by slapping her fingers and legs; only then had these behaviors lessened.

Marianna surrendered her hand to Raajen, who steered her into the front room. When they had seated themselves, Raajen handed the mug of chocolate sweetened milk to her. Marianna managed to still some of her quaking and sniffling, accepted the mug and drank in silence.

Raajen watched as she drained the mug and set it aside. She took up her fork and began to prod at her sausage.

At length, seeing that Marianna had no appetite, Raajen held out his hand. "Come here, honey."

After a moment of hesitation, Marianna crept over to Raajen, who placed his arms around her, seating her upon his lap. He flashed his smile at her, and, unhappy as she was, Mariannas heart began to warm, just a little, beneath the glow of that smile. It was as bright and as rewarding as a burst of sunshine, although she knew very well that she did not deserve to be rewarded. She returned the embrace, and Raajen drew her close, so that she could rest her cheek against him. Marianna, with her chin propped up on Raajens shoulder, gazed out at the den's only window. Dusk was falling, all of the daytime color had faded from the sky and the sun, which, an hour before, had melted its gold into the scant greenery of the nearly-barren land, was now nothing but a wan, pale-yellow disc. As it began its descent, it cast its final, golden-white strands of light. The sky was always quite pale in the earliest part of the evening, and yet, all of the horizon had become a blaze of orangeish-red and lavender.

Marianna pointed, and even made an effort and spoke. "Look, Raajen. Look. . how pretty it is."

Raajen lifted her and sat her down so that she was facing him. He cupped her face in his hands. "Honey, why did you disobey me? "

Marianna knew that he expected her to speak again, and she did so. "I only. . . wanted. . . to make something nice. . .for you. . . Raajen. . . Raaji. . . Im. . .sorry."

"God bless you, sweetness," Raajen whispered. Here was the most difficult part. "You know I have to punish you. Don't you? "

Mariannas brown eyes were beginning to dampen. "Are you going to spank me? Raajen. . . please. . ." Raajen took hold of her arm and hauled her upright; Marianna, frail as she was, could not struggle with him. He pulled her downwards and propped her, carefully, across his lap. He then gave her behind a brisk, but gentle smack. Even so, Marianna shattered, , and she broke down weeping . Her little body quaked with each sob. Raajen spoke over the crying. "I've had to spank you for wandering off, for sleeping and leaving the door open,and for other things." He gave her another gentle smack. "Raaji loves you, more than anything. But you must - learn - to listen. " Marianna lay there, crying and quaking so violently that Raajen could not feel certain that she had heard a word. Reaching down, he scooped her up and held her tightly.

"Shhhhh, honey. Don't cry. Raajen loves you."

Marianna continued to tremble, and the tears rolled freely. She bared her teeth, as if she were in agony. One hand lifted and strayed towards her face, nails outstretched and poised to attack. Raajen grasped her wrist, in an effort to restrain her; Marianna struggled to free herself. At length, Raajen slapped her fingers, and Marianna collapsed against his chest, sobbing. Raajen cradled her gently. "Stop it, honey, " he whispered. "Stop it. Hush now. Sweetness. . Look at me." With more gentle urging, Marianna obeyed. She lifted her watery brown eyes and gazed up into his face - unmoving, unsmiling, a little stern, and, in his own way, very sweet. She knew that she must control herself, or she would send herself into a hysterical fit - something that Raajen never accepted.

Raajen wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt - an old, almost threadbare garment, wrinkled and scattered with soil stains.

"Sweetmeat . . . I leave you home alone because i trust you. Soon I'll have to take you out with me when i go to work."

Marianna shook her head vigorously. Raajen could not help but to smile. She had begged him to allow her to sit with him while he worked one day. Before an hour had passed, she had begun to regret it. They had spent 10 long, dreary hours in that one spot, with the glare of the sun in their eyes. Marianna hadn't been allowed to roam around, dash off or explore, even a bit. Raajen moved her off of his knee; she came to sit at his feet. "Yes, honey, I'll have to. If you ever behave so carelessly again, by God, I'll never leave you alone."

Mariannas head jerked about for a moment, but she nodded, as she knew she must. Raajen ran his fingers through her hair.

"Yesterday, honey, I had to fight with someone. Some dirty, scrawny, tough-as-old-meat tramp -I haven't a clue where he came from. " ( This area was sparsely inhabited - Raajen and Marianna had very few neighbors that they knew of.) "I was working and had left my moneybag a few feet behind me. I heard some footsteps, but my spade was making so much noise that I didn't pay them any mind. Then a shadow fell over me - out of nowhere -and I stopped digging, turned around and looked up to see a scraggly-headed tramp, with a face as sallow and rinsed-out looking as an old white shirt.

"Before I could budge, he bent forward, snatched the moneybag, held it out of my reach and asked if I cared for it. He stood there, chuckling and carrying on, tossing the bag from hand to hand. Called me a rustic pig, Southern suncake, and - some other things that you wouldn't like to hear. He didn't have any better sense than to stand about, chuckling and hurling insults - he ought to have run. When i got up and came after him, he tried to draw his dagger, but I thrashed the *** out of him with the spade."

Marianna studied his face with solemn brown eyes. She put out a hand and touched the chest of his shirt, feeling for wounds. Raajen gently moved her away. "He never harmed me, honey. I didn't let him. "

Marianna relaxed visibly.

Raajen took on a quieter, sterner tone. "That tramp might have made off with our money because I didn't pay enough attention. And if you had left our door open, as you did a few days ago, he might have walked into this house and harmed you, with no one around to stop him." Raajen fumbled with the buckle of his belt, loosening the clasp.

Marianna, almost petrified, could not remove her eyes from his fingers. Raajen pulled the belt from about his waist and folded it over, forming a loop. Marianna had always lived in fear of that belt -a thick, heavy strap of black rawhide - although Raajen had never threatened her with it before this day.

Raajen slapped the belt against his thigh a few times, cracking it as one would crack a whip. "Do you want Raaji to whip you, Marianna? "

Of course, there was only one sensible answer.

"Then you must not ever - EVER - let me catch you being foolish and careless again, or, as God is my witness, I'll tear you to pieces."

Rising now, he walked over to the wall that housed the fireplace, and, turning the belt up buckle-first, hung it upon a screw that Marianna had never noticed. And there it would stay, serving as a warning against disobedience.

Raajen crossed the room, to seat himself beneath the window ledge, positioning himself against the wall. He held out his hand. "Come here, Mary-Cherry."

Raajen repeated his request several times before Marianna obeyed. When she was within reach, Raajen took her into his arms. All strength seemed to abandon her little body, and she began to quake helplessly.

"Come on now, my baby, " Raajen whispered. When it became obvious that she would not budge, he grasped her arm and, with gentle, firm tugs, pressed her downward, inch by inch, until at last she lay across his lap. The agonized shaking and convulsing did not cease altogether then, but the frail, quivering little body allowed itself to go limp.

Raajen untied the string of her pinafore, allowing them to fall aside. Then he grasped the hem of her dress and began to gather it up at the waist. Marianna lay there, a rigid, frightened, unmoving weight upon Raajen's lap. His fingers looped themselves beneath the waist of her undergarments , and set to work, wrestling with the buttons and fastenings. When he had attended to them all, Raajen freed one hand, caught hold of the waist of the undergarments, once more, and maneuvered them, ever so carefully, down and over her behind, past her thighs, until they came to rest inches below her knees.

Raajen grasped her arm, for the second time, lifted her body by some inches, and slipped his arm about her waist, encircling it, taking one hip into the crook of his elbow. He secured his hold by cupping his palm, rather uncomfortably, over her belly, before lowering her, ever so carefully, returning her to position across his thighs. Only then did Marianna begin to squirm, for the sudden pressure of his hand upon her navel was doing nothing to ease the knot of anxiety that occupied her stomach. The panic was beginning to rear its head, suddenly and sharply. Every wriggle drove Raajen's hand into her stomach with greater force, and she gasped. "Raaji. . .!"

Raajen's hand cracked across her behind, with all of the dreadful abruptness that always accompanied the beginning slap - as well as the pain and the shock that never failed to shake her badly. "Lie still, Mary-Cherry." The cries began, and, with them, the wild, terrified, scrambling little efforts at escape. And the second smack fell. "Lie still! " Another CRACK. "You must never -" CRACK "- leave ANY sort of door -" CRACK! - "lying open -" CRACK! -"unless -" CRACK! -"Raaji's - here -" CRACK! -"and you know -" CRACK! -"that I'm going to come inside."

By this time, Marianna had succumbed to frantic crying, mingled with little screams, muffled by the carpet. "You -" CRACK! "- lie still. Raaji can smack you - much harder than this." Raajen's palm and fingers began to lick her thighs. The efforts to pull free lessened greatly, then; much of the squirming and wrenching about shifted to the lower half of her body, and she kicked, pounding her feet against the floor-planks.

"Raaji's very - angry with you. You're my Mary-Cherry - but you're a big girl now, and I expect you - to show some - good - common sense! " The weeping became louder, and Marianna's legs, though they ached from all of her straining, continued to batter the floor. For an indefinite amount of time, Raajen pushed on. The spanking could not have lasted for more than a number of minutes; to Marianna, though, it might as well have carried on for hours. One hard slap; a sickening leap of the heart, and a constricting of the chest; a cry; a writhe or wriggle; a painful lurching of the body; the pressing of her abdomen against the bone-hardness of his hand; another slap - the torment stretched on and on, a dreadful pattern of repetition. And yet, throughout it all, Raajens arm - toughened by hours of axe-swinging, clad in a sleeve of wrinkled cotton fabric - kept its hold upon her waist, cradling it within the warmth of its curve, and, all the while, rocking her ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, assuring etc that she was his Mary-Cherry, his baby, and that she was cherished, more than anything that he knew of.

At length, Marianna struggled to speak. She managed, between gasps, "Raaji. . .I'm. . .sorry. . .please. . ." By this time, the wriggling and kicking had become quaking - violent, helpless quaking and convulsing that, before long, came close to breaking Raajen's grip upon her. His arm locked itself about her waist, with even greater tightness; the other arm curved about her lower half, by way of restraint. "My baby. . .Sshhhhhh. Listen to me. Raaji isn't going to spank you anymore. I'm not going to strike you anymore. God forbid! My baby's ill. Hush now - deep breaths. Big breaths for my little cherry. Raaji's going to make you eat your supper, and I'm going to heat more milk for you - with all of the chocolate you want. I promise. . . I promise." After some time, Mariannas crying abated. Little by little, she began to relax, as did Raajen's grip upon her, when he felt certain that the quaking had calmed sufficiently. Raajen freed one hand, and, with two or three fingers, traced the heated, swollen surface of the skin. Here and there lay tiny patches, no larger than his fingertips, of especially well-thrashed skin -darkened, discolored, and roughened. His hand left her bottom, then, for one moment, to wipe the dampness from his eyes, before coming to rest upon her back. Mariannas tears continued to stream, enlarging and deepening the dark, sodden spot that had formed upon the carpet, beneath her brow and the tip of her nose. Raajen passed his fingers, over and over, along the nape of her neck, through the clusters of soft curls. And Marianna lay there, shuddering, accepting, at last, the warmth of his lap, the resting of her forehead upon the floor, and the soothing, scratching friction of the coarse fabric of his breeches - a discomfort that, unlike the pain of the smacking, was no discomfort at all.

[redzonedefense_F]

I was utterly entranced.

Wonderfully done!

[incisrongirl]

Thank you would message you but can't.