| No rights infringement intended. Since Helen is busy finishing some stories on another list, Buff Wanda has asked me, Hu Deng Nit, to write my version of what really happened between Richard Sharpe and the Dona Juanita. The following is part 1 of the story. Beth |
Richard Sharpe was furious with the Dona Juanita. He pushed her into his room in the barracks and stared menacingly at her, trying to control himself. He had never before hit a woman and until now never felt the urge. She had betrayed him and the Compagnie Irlendesa and now stood before him defiantly without an ounce of remorse. Recalling the heat from the battle with Loup's men and his rising anger at the unrepentant traitor, he began to unbutton his green rifleman jacket.
"Do jour worst," she spat, "I know what men like jou want, what all men want from a woman. But I no tell jou notting jou want to know about Loup and his men."
She glowered at Sharpe and a surprised look crossed his face. He certainly planned on interrogating her, but he was no animal like Loup's men. The thought of forcing himself on a woman never crossed his mind. He studied her and felt no arousal within his groin. The Dona Juanita was attractive enough, but Sharpe had been with attractive women. His Teresa with her noble features and proud carriage turned heads wherever she went. And memories of his nights with the golden-haired and much desired La Marquesa brought a smile to his face. He sighed, sat down and said flatly, "Just tell me what you know about Loup and his strategy and we can all get a good night's sleep.
Juanita mistook the smile for a sign of weakness. "So jou don't like women? Maybe jou prefer men? I tell jou notting about Loup. He's a real man. He make love to me and howls like a wolf. What jou tink of tat?" she sneered.
Sharpe was amused, but he was also exhausted. He did not want to exchange a drawn out war of words with her. He just wanted her to reveal Loup's tactics so he could go to bed......alone. "I think that a real man who makes love to a woman should make her howl like a wolf," he retorted. "Now just give me the information and maybe I'll give you a reward."
Now it was Juanita's turn to look surprised. She liked the looks of Richard Sharpe, sitting there without his shirt. His braces drooped by his sides on the bed, the flickering light of the candle dancing on his shimmering, sweaty body. He was infinitely easier on the eyes than Loup. Yet it was Loup's power that drew her to him. She saw Sharpe as being too soft, not nearly her match when it came to a hunger for dominance. But had he just issued a challenge? He may yet be defeated by Loup in battle, but does he think he can outduel Loup in sexual prowess? She was intrigued. Ever the adventuress, she suddenly felt a passion stirring between her legs. Her icy demeanor melted. She accepted the challenge, and sidled next to Sharpe.
"Help me undress," she demanded.
"Wait a bloody minute, Senorita," Sharpe exclaimed. "I said I wanted the information first. You'll have to wait for satisfaction until I'm satisfied you've told me everything."
Sharpe does Juanita - part 2
No rights infringement intended.
No, I haven't been drinking (certainly not at 10:00am), but I have a migraine, which always seems to help my stories move along. Got help finishing the story from my other sister Hu Zhong Fust (I'm going to a lot of trouble coming up with these names and no one's telling me how clever I am. Harumphhhh).Hu Deng Nit
The Dona Juanita stepped back, her emotions caught in a whirlwind of humiliation, anger and lust. How dare he tell her what to do? But his sudden arrogance also intensified her desire for him. As his prisoner, she knew that eventually she had to tell him everything, and she had reached the point where exhaustion made her realize the practicality of getting the process over with.
She caught her breath, sat down in a chair across from Sharpe and began telling her story; how she became anfrancesado, why she sought out Loup and what she knew to be his plan of attack. Sharpe listened and watched her facial expressions. He still did not trust her entirely, so he would have to cull her narrative for inconsistencies and half-truths.
As soon as she finished talking she began to cry. She cried because she was tired and drained, but the crying frustrated her. She hated women who cried. She hated men who cried. Crying made her feel vulnerable, an emotion she had not felt since childhood. The more she wanted to stop the harder she cried, until she was sobbing and hiccuping.
Sharpe was helpless around women who cried. He did not know what to do. In his life in the gutters of England and the battlefields of India and Spain, he saw plenty of women who cried over dead husbands. There was little to do to comfort a woman whose husband died on the gallows or was just killed in battle. But this woman sitting in his room had not lost a husband. Not twenty minutes earlier she had talked to him in an imperious tone and questioned his manhood. He did not understand women. He did not know that their moods could swing faster than one stroke of a clock's pendulum.
He walked to the chair, got down on one knee and put his arms around Juanita which made her cry even harder. He stroked her hair, then her neck. She put her arms around him, still weeping but less so. His strong hands moved down her back to her waist. He stroked her lower back, keeping his hands just above the contours of her derriere. She stopped crying, but was still hiccuping. Then she stood up, forcing Sharpe to stand as well, and slowly pushed him backwards towards the bed. As he fell on the bed, her quick fingers unbuttoned his trousers and before he could take off his trousers, she already had them off, hesitating only a second to take stock of and appreciate her hard won trophy. This time, Juanita did not have to ask him to undress her. He obliged her without a word. She lowered her body on top of his.
Outside the barracks, the soldiers of the Compagnie Irlendesa tried to clean up the debris from the recent battle. The uninjured tended to the injured. Dead bodies had to be taken away and buried. Suddenly they heard a woman's scream coming out of the officers' barracks. Then the distinctive words, "Dios, ohhhh miiiiii Dios." Then a low prolonged moan. Sgt. Harper smiled.
"Guess the lieutenant got all the information he wanted from the senorita," he said to no one in particular.
