My wife became my mistress

The Luna and the Starfish traveled together. After reaching Arboro??o (off the coast of Brazil, South America), the Starfish needed to anchor for resupply. We, however, had delayed our planned voyage due to our previous efforts to avoid Arab pirates, and we already had a considerable amount of food and water. Therefore, Mr. Harlan and Captain Frederick decided to continue, hoping to catch up with our schedule.
After parting ways with the Starfish, we headed towards the Tristan da Quinha Islands (in the South Atlantic). Several days later, we reached the latitude of the archipelago but did not find it.
This news immediately caused a stir, as we had originally planned to resupply in the Tristan da Quinha Islands. Although the ship's food and water supplies were relatively sufficient, the food rations were critical, and the captain ordered that everyone's rations be reduced by one-third starting that day.
A northwest wind blew the ship eastward, towards the Cape of Good Hope. The ship's meeting decided to resupply after reaching the Cape of Good Hope. We maintained this course for quite some time, and food became increasingly scarce. Fortunately, black-striped seagulls appeared, and the sailors used sticks to knock them down. Besides eating them, we chopped them into pieces, coated them with lard, and used them as bait on fishing hooks, catching some fish in a short time.
Seeing seagulls meant the Cape of Good Hope was not far away. We looked north and saw land—that was the Cape of Good Hope. However, just as we were about to approach, those damned Portuguese broke the international agreement (any country's trading ships could resupply at the Cape of Good Hope, even if the two countries were at war) and opened fire on us from land. We, of course, returned fire.
However, because our cannons were no match for the Portuguese cannons, we had to abandon our intention to land and decided to sail past the cape without stopping.
(Later I thought that the Portuguese broke the agreement because they knew Captain Hymes was on our ship and wanted to settle a long-standing grudge.) Although we couldn't resupply, the voyage had to continue. By this time, fresh food had run out, and water was nearly gone. A crew representative came to the salon, saying that over thirty men had fallen ill, and new cases were appearing daily. Scurvy was spreading among the sailors, and they demanded that the ship dock as soon as possible for resupply, otherwise sailors would die.
Finally, we anchored on Renion Island. Some of the sick men got out of bed, wanting to go ashore as well. Mr. Harlan sent a small sampan to inspect the island and found many tortoises and blue pigeons. The island was uninhabited, and there was no sign of other ships docking.
The sailors helped each other ashore on Renion Island. Many of the sick sailors told me, "Just smelling the land makes us half-cured. Now that we're ashore, we feel almost as healthy as if we were at home."
The sailors began gathering food; some caught tortoises, some went to the inland lakes to catch fish, and some went into the forest to look for fruit. The ship was also busy. The sailors opened all the gun ports and muzzles to let fresh air into the cabins, then tilted the ship as much as possible to clean the shellfish attached to the hull with small shrubs and brushes to prevent them from getting into the planks and causing leaks.
We stayed on Renion Island for a total of twenty-one days. We had plenty of food and water, and the sailors had fully recovered, so we raised the sails again and set sail.
Shortly after reaching the Sunda Strait, an unexpected fire broke out, and the series of painful events it caused still haunts me to this day.
The story begins with my job. Before reaching our destination, the ship's officers had basically nothing to do on board, except for occasionally attending ship's meetings, regularly reviewing the logbook, and taking inventory of the cargo. Since I was only an intern, I had no say in the ship's meetings, and some of the confidential data in the logbook was beyond my knowledge. Therefore, my only task was the inventory work every two weeks.
That day, after finishing my cargo inventory, I went to the wine cellar to check the remaining wine (the captain had given me this task on short notice, as he had recently discovered some sailors stealing wine). Just then, a bartender named Bud, as usual, entered the wine cellar each afternoon with a small container, filling it with brandy so that each sailor could receive half a glass at dinner.
He carried a candle, its holder stuck in a barrel. We chatted as we worked, when he suddenly shouted, "Fire!"
I turned and saw a barrel of brandy ablaze (he had probably accidentally knocked over the candlestick, the wick falling into the barrel he was pouring the wine from). The fire immediately spread beyond the barrel and then quickly reached the blacksmith's coal shed on the next deck.
What happened next is hard to describe in a coherent way. I only remember immediately summoning several sailors to help put out the fire, but the fire spread very quickly, engulfing the entire wine cellar. To make matters worse, the doused coal piles emitted thick smoke, almost completely obscuring my vision. I barely managed to find the hatch and escape. Then I heard Mr. Harlan and Captain Hyms arguing fiercely.
Mr. Harlan demanded that the gunpowder be thrown overboard to prevent the fire from igniting it, while Captain Hyms countered that without gunpowder, what would happen if they encountered the enemy?
The fire was gradually getting out of control, and the smoke was thick. The sailors in the cabins began to flee. Some were busy fetching water to fight the fire, while others began to lower the stragglers and life rafts, preparing to escape this ship that was in despair. Just then, an explosion came from the direction of the gun emplacement, the ship shook violently, and many people were thrown into the water.
By this time, everyone had given up on rescue efforts and was scrambling to board the life rafts. I grabbed Mr. Harlan, who was wailing and crying (I thought he would be demoted by the company), and we squeezed onto the crowded life raft. Just as we were paddling away from the Luna, a deafening explosion, like divine retribution, erupted in our ears. A blast of scorching air hit my face, making my hair curl up.
I squinted at the towering flames. The Luna was blown into hundreds of pieces, with pieces of wood flying everywhere. Suddenly, a piece of debris flew towards me. I quickly turned my head and ducked, but I was too slow. I felt a burning pain as a sharp piece of wood pierced my cheek below my right eye. Fortunately, it wasn't deep and didn't hurt my eye. After treatment, it only left a scar about an inch long.
The four life rafts and small boats that had separated from the Luna gathered together. We counted the number of people; only seventy-six remained, about three-quarters of our crew had been lost. Captain Frederick clung to a mast and drifted at sea for a while before being rescued. Poor Lieutenant Hems, however, bravely sacrificed his life to save the sailors still on the Luna.
That night, we slept beside the wreckage. At dawn, we searched for any remaining food drifting nearby, luckily finding some cured meat, cheese, and damp bread. The captain and second navigator (the first navigator had also perished at sea) tried to find a compass or a compass, but to no avail.
The captain ordered the oars to be brought in, as rowing haphazardly before determining direction was a waste of energy. He also ordered the sailors to remove their undergarments to use as sails and to make rigging from the ship's side ropes. We drifted at sea all day, navigating by the weather. We sailed at night, but it was so cold that everyone shivered, while the daytime temperatures were scorching hot, almost drying us out.
After six days adrift, their meager food supplies were exhausted. Hunger might be easier to endure, but the burning thirst was unbearable. The captain frequently had to stop some of the almost frantic sailors from trying to drink seawater. Some cut off the toes of their shoes and chewed them, hoping to stimulate saliva production and alleviate their thirst; others even began drinking their own urine.
I followed suit (I was willing to do anything to relieve my thirst), but it became increasingly uncomfortable after a while.
That night, a heavy rain began to fall, and the sailors all looked up at the sky, mouths agape, gulping down the rainwater. The captain ordered the sails to be lowered and laid flat inside the small boats to collect the rainwater in two small wooden buckets for later use.
The rain didn't stop until midnight. Although we quenched our thirst, the subsequent cold was even more unbearable. Everyone huddled together, using each other's body heat for warmth.
Mr. Harlan and I huddled together; my teeth chattered from the cold, and I felt like I had a fever. I don't know how long it took before I finally drifted off to sleep.
Just as dawn broke, I heard someone excitedly shout, "Friends, get up! Land! I see land! Get up quickly!" So everyone started rowing towards the land, and about an hour later we reached it.
The captain knelt down and kissed the land, praising God's grace and mercy. The sailors began searching for food and water. They found many coconut trees but no fresh water. So we drank a lot of coconut juice to quench our thirst and then ate coconut meat to fill our stomachs. However, because we ate so much, many of us had stomach aches, which only subsided after our stomachs were relieved.
We headed inland, and the first few discovered a village of natives. They returned and reported that they heard the natives speaking Malay, so the captain sent three men who had lived in the East Indies and spoke Malay to negotiate.
Our group was led into a village by the natives, who asked where we came from. We said we were Dutch and asked where we were. The natives gestured, but I couldn't understand a word they said. Fortunately, Mr. Harun knew a little Malay and translated for me: this was Sumatra, and further down (actually, south) was Java.
We searched all our pockets and finally managed to scrape together eighty rials, which we exchanged for food from the natives. After a hearty meal, we began to consider the supplies needed for our journey to Java. We mentioned to the natives that we were going to Batavia and mentioned the name Jan Petersen Kuhn. At this, the natives' expressions changed; their previously friendly attitude turned extremely fierce, and they turned and left.
I immediately thought of the current chief—a leading candidate for future governor—who was known for his extreme cruelty towards the natives, often slaughtering entire tribes. Could this village have suffered the same horrific treatment as Yang Peterson Kuhn?
The captain also sensed something was wrong; more and more natives were gathering, armed with various weapons—bows and arrows, spears, axes, and rakes. The captain made a decisive decision, ordering a retreat. Sergeant Ryerson led the rearguard, and we quickly ran towards the shore.
About two or three hundred natives chased us, screaming and yelling, relentlessly firing arrows and hurling spears at us. Anyone who fell behind was immediately struck down with an axe. We boarded the life raft and hurriedly set sail. Some natives tried to cling to the gunwale, attempting to force their way aboard, but the sailors smashed their heads with oars and seized their axes and spears. Anyone else trying to board was slaughtered.
Once out to sea, we finally escaped the natives' attack. We recounted our numbers and found we had lost sixteen men (may God rest in peace). Some were killed in villages, some fell behind during the escape, and some were abandoned because they couldn't board the small boats in time (I hate to say this, but if we hadn't abandoned them, we probably would all have been killed by the natives).
The only saving grace was that some men had managed to grab a few bags of rice and eight chickens during the escape, providing some supplies.
We sailed along the coast with the wind. The captain carefully distributed the sixty survivors and the meager food, but it ran out in a few days. We went ashore again, and the sailors immediately dispersed to search for food, but dared not venture too far inland for fear of encountering another hostile Dutch tribe.
Soon, the captain announced that, by observing the shape and direction of the mountains, he could confirm we had entered and were about to pass through the Sunda Strait, "very close" to our destination, Batavia.
We gathered our men and sailed in the direction the captain indicated. Shortly after nightfall, we spotted a light on the distant sea. The sailors shouted at the top of their lungs to attract attention, but Mr. Harlan worried that if it were a native ship, we would be walking into a trap. Fortunately, it was a European vessel, not a hostile Portuguese ship. Almost unbelievably, it was the Starfish!
Captain Peter warmly welcomed us, the survivors, and when we talked about the Moon, Captain Frederick recounted the terrible events that had occurred since parting ways with the Starfish.
Mr. Harlan asked how the Starfish had come to be there, and Captain Peter explained that the Starfish had arrived in the East Indies a month earlier, on orders from the commander-in-chief to transport goods between Batavia and Champa. It was currently carrying a full hold of spices back to Batavia, while Mr. Bertho and Lieutenant-General Mihan had been assigned to join Conrellis Ryerson's fleet, heading to China to seek trade opportunities.
Three days later we arrived in Batavia (after a long eleven months). Mr. Harlan and Captain Frederick (I went with them, of course) had to report to the Governor's Palace, while the crew were assigned to other ships.
We changed into new clothes and were led to the Governor's Palace hall, where we were surprised to be greeted by the Chief Supervisor, Yang Peterson Kuhn, and his wife, Mrs. Kuhn.
After Mrs. Kuhn's explanation, we learned that the Governor had recently fallen seriously ill and was unable to get out of bed, so the Chief Supervisor was acting in his place.
Mr. Kuhn was not as cold and unapproachable as we had imagined. He listened gently to Mr. Harlan's report, and even shed tears when he heard that Captain Hymes had stood firm at his post and died a heroic death. He did not blame Mr. Harlan and the captain for their dereliction of duty, but instead praised us for calmly leading the surviving crew to safety.
After Mr. Kuhn had heard everything, he invited us to lunch. Mrs. Kuhn warmly entertained us, and the Malay servants kept serving us tropical foods that I had never eaten before, and we drank a lot of wine. Mr. Kuhn spoke of the Republic's development in the East Indies, noting that Portugal's influence there had greatly diminished, while the once-friendly Britain had become a new adversary.
Although relations hadn't completely broken down, they were quite tense. We informed the head of the situation in our home countries when we departed: the Republic had established new colonies in the Americas, but religious conflicts within the country were intensifying.
After six days in Batavia, Mr. Kuhn appointed us to new positions: Captain Frederick received a new ship and became captain of the "Daughter of Dort"; Mr. Harlan, instead of being demoted, was promoted to head of the Banten trading post; and I became a qualified junior merchant, remaining in Batavia to assist with trade with Chinese merchants.
Time flew by, and three years had passed since I arrived in the East Indies. I was promoted to Senior Trade Officer, overseeing trade with local Chinese merchants, and married Jenny (one of many women the company bought from orphanages back home and brought to the East Indies as wives of employees). We have a one-and-a-half-year-old son, and last month, Jenny told me she was pregnant again.
I maintained correspondence with Captain Frederick and Mr. Harlan. Although his contract with the company had expired, the captain said he could no longer leave the sea and the East Indies, and had also married a Malay woman and had three children. Mr. Harlan, on the other hand, was busy all day at the trading post in Banten, complaining about the never-ending work, but I seemed to enjoy it.
Mr. Kuhn became the company's fourth governor two years ago, finally able to fully realize his long-held ambitions.
He strengthened control over the Spice Islands, built castles throughout the region, recruited all the necessary artisans, priests, and soldiers from home, intensified the offensive against the Portuguese, and even prepared to expel the British from the East Indies.
Generally speaking, I am very satisfied with my career and life in the East India Company, which far exceeded my expectations before I went abroad. However, the only thing that bothers me greatly and that I did not expect is the complicated and tangled relationship between me and Mrs. Kuhn.
About a year ago, I received an invitation from the Governor's residence, inviting my whole family to a gathering at the residence in the name of the Governor. Such invitations were quite frequent at that time (though I had some doubts about whether someone of my status could receive such an honor).
I didn't think too much about it, only wondering: I heard that the Governor had set off for the Banda Islands three days prior to deal with a local riot, how could he have returned so quickly? Jenny couldn't come with me because she had to take care of her son who had a cold, so that evening, I went alone, carrying the homemade cured meat Jenny had prepared to give to my wife, to the Governor's residence.
Upon arriving, I was surprised to find that I was the only guest. Mrs. Kuhn didn't say much (I feigned composure and didn't ask any questions, and the Governor was indeed still in the Banda Islands), and as usual, treated me to a sumptuous dinner. After dinner, my wife brought out brandy from her hometown, and the two of us sat across a small table, enjoying the rare fine wine and chatting idly.
In fact, I was practically bursting with unease; the chair felt like it was being pricked by needles. I didn't usually interact with the lady (at banquets at the Governor's residence, I was always busy chatting with other businessmen, leaving Jenny and the other employees' wives to chat with her), and now, sitting face-to-face like this, I felt incredibly awkward. The lady's invitation, disguised as the Governor's, must have some ulterior motive I didn't know about.
I don't know who brought it up first, but we started talking about the Luna and Starfish from two years ago (thankfully, at least there was something to break the awkward silence). We shared our interesting experiences from the voyage, and when I mentioned Captain Hymes's precise gunnery, driving the Arab pirates to their deaths, the lady's face lit up with a strange light (damn, I remembered that time I spied on her). However, when we talked about the captain's death and the series of tragedies that followed, the lady's mood noticeably sombered (she must have been recalling her past affair with the captain).
Seeing that the lady seemed distraught, I decided to take the opportunity to leave. Just then, the lady said, "Roll, I'm so lonely." (Roll? She always calls me Mr. Relis!) While my mind was busy deciphering the true meaning of her words, and before I could think of a reply, the lady stood up and walked towards me. I quickly stood up as well.
"Madam, you..." I stammered, watching the lady getting closer and closer.
Suddenly, the lady threw herself into my arms (so fast I didn't know how to react), burying her face in my chest and sobbing softly. I panicked for a moment, unsure whether I should gently pat her shoulder and comfort her (even though I had no idea what was going on), or remember our different statuses and firmly refuse her sudden, impolite gesture.
Just as my mind went blank, the lady looked up, her eyes filled with glistening tears (her expression was so helpless, it made me want to hold her and cherish her), and whispered, "Kiss me, Roll, kiss me."
Looking back, I must have lost my mind at that moment. Inhaling the intoxicating fragrance emanating from the lady, and gazing upon her slightly parted, luscious red lips, I could not suppress the desire that instantly ignited within me. I lowered my head and passionately kissed her tender lips, roughly forcing my way into her mouth (no, I was merely responding to her silent invitation).
Our tongues intertwined fiercely, exchanging saliva. Even her saliva seemed sweet; I greedily sucked on her saliva, lost in a dreamlike bliss.
We fell onto the Persian carpeted floor, eagerly untying each other's restraints. The lady's snow-white body, like that of a white lamb, immediately caught my eye; her curvaceous fullness gave me an unprecedented thrill. Unlike Jenny's slender frame, a result of malnutrition during puberty, the lady possessed an enviable gift: full breasts, fleshy hips, and firm yet long legs, exuding an irresistible sensuality.
I kneaded her two soft mounds, teasing the two ripe cherries with my fingers. I opened my mouth and took them in, biting with my teeth, licking with my tongue, sucking with my lips, and pulling with my fingers—playing with her in every way I could think of. The lady trembled all over as if she had a fever, her throat emitting hoarse moans.
"Oh, Rol, you're so good, I'm yours...play with me as much as you want..." I parted the lady's legs, her body seemed to melt, constantly secreting passionate juices. I knelt between her legs, my tongue sliding down her thighs to her secret place, licking her nectar. The lady's thick pubic hair scratched against my mouth and nose, and every time my hot breath blew on her secret place, it caused her body to tremble.
"Ah...good man, you're killing me...hmm, hurry up and come in, don't make me impatient..."
The lady looked at my proud, hard erection with a dazed expression, her eyes blazing with lustful desire, shamelessly uttering blatant lewd words.
I responded to her invitation, lifting her legs onto my shoulders, bending her body forward, exposing her private parts completely to me. I grasped my penis, aiming it at her already prepared, wet opening, but instead of inserting it directly, I rubbed the glans against her engorged labia first, then gently inserted it, only to immediately withdraw it. This immediately caused the lady's legs to kick wildly, and her soft abdominal muscles to tremble.
After teasing her like this for a while, the lady almost went mad, demanding that I take her quickly. Only then did I abandon all pretense and plunge in, penetrating to the deepest point without hesitation, immediately and relentlessly assaulting her body. I thrust violently inside her, completely forgetting the "nine shallow, one deep" mysterious Eastern technique I'd heard about from the Chinese businessman. Every punch landed hard, without holding back a single ounce of strength.
The lady frantically scratched and bit my shoulders and back, utterly defenseless against my fierce onslaught, completely at my mercy. Her once alluring eyes rolled back slightly, her saliva uncontrollably dripping down her flushed, beautiful face. Intense pleasure centered at our point of contact, coursing through her entire body. Her once-speakable mouth was now speechless, only able to emit unconscious, ecstatic moans and gasps with each thrust.
Finally, exhausted, I ejaculated my semen into the lady's wet, hot body. We embraced, exhausted, savoring the afterglow of our lovemaking and exchanging body heat.
The lady gradually came to her senses, kissing my forehead, cheeks, and lips, whispering the most tender words of love, praising me for making her feel like she was in heaven, utterly blissful. Only
then did I realize the terrible mistake I had made. A lowly clerk had dared to seduce the governor's wife! If discovered, it wouldn't be as simple as just being fired. In the East Indies, the governor was like God; everyone's life and death were in his hands, as easy as crushing an ant. But what puzzled me even more was why the lady had come to me.
"No, Rol, please don't force me," the lady refused to answer my questions. But after my persistent questioning, she finally revealed her secret with the governor: Mr. Kuhn had been severely wounded in a battle overseas years ago. Upon returning home to recover, he discovered he had lost his manhood. Heartbroken, Mr. Kuhn threw himself into his work, neglecting his young wife at home. Mrs. Kuhn, unable to bear the loneliness and sexual torment of her confinement, began to seduce other men.
Hearing this, my face changed; it turned out I was merely a plaything for her to alleviate her loneliness and satisfy her lust. Seeing this, Mrs. Kuhn quickly embraced my shoulders, tears streaming down her face. She pleaded with me not to be angry, saying she deeply regretted her past dissolute life, which was why she had come to the East Indies to escape her unbearable memories. "
Then why did you choose me?"
Mrs. Kuhn stopped crying and said shyly (blushing like a little girl), "I am the first man she has ever been to the East Indies.
She hates it here, hates the hot weather, hates the swarms of mosquitoes, hates the sour and spicy food, hates the black natives everywhere (I told her they were dark brown; African blacks are truly black), hates the mercenary conversations of merchants, hates the crude shouts of sailors."
In short, she hated everything about the East India Company, but here was a true gentleman (I was flattered), and she found herself falling in love with the young businessman.
Even so, she added, she still loved Mr. Kuhn, of course, as a wife to her husband. As for me, she loved me as a woman (though I didn't quite understand what she really meant).
And what about Captain Hymes? I couldn't help but ask her (out of male jealousy), if she truly repented for her past promiscuity, why did she end up having an affair with the captain on the ship?
The lady paused, then lowered her head like a schoolgirl caught cheating, first surprised that I knew about it (I confessed to her about the spying), then ashamed, saying that she only wanted a brief affair with Captain Hymes as a final commemoration of completely severing ties with her past life.
(Thankfully, the captain died young. If Captain Hymes hadn't died, I doubt the lady could have kept her promise. I must admit, the captain was the most handsome man I'd ever seen.) We agreed on a code for our next meeting and arranged to meet again the following night.
The lady saw me off reluctantly at the governor's mansion, kissing me goodbye again and again (after she dismissed all the servants), before I finally went home under the moonlight.
From then on, the lady became my mistress (or perhaps I became her lover). I was astonished by the lady's boldness and greed. Except when the governor was away, when we spent almost the entire night together, even when the governor was present, at banquets at the governor's mansion, she would always take advantage of others' inattention to pull me to an empty balcony or into the wardrobe, enjoying the thrill of quick, clandestine encounters. Several times we were almost discovered, my heart nearly leaping out of my mouth in fear, but thankfully, thanks to the lady's quick wit, we always managed to escape unscathed.
[The End]

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