Just Like Your Mother
By Max Swan (Horrorotica)
Kyle Jones glances up from the stack of medical charts into the eyes of a beautiful, well-dressed woman. She’s extending her hand to him. Instinctively, he shakes it, and said, “Prince? I have a patient with that same last name. Any chance you’re related?”
“Mike Prince,” she said. “He’s my father. How’s he doing?”
“Frankly, he’s lucky to be alive, but I think he’ll be fine. He has a nasty contusion on the crown of his head, the radius, and ulna in each arm is broken, and he broke the tibia in his left leg. Dr. Chang, our on-call orthopedic surgeon, worked on him right after the accident and reported the surgery went well. C’mon, and I’ll show you the xrays.”
As they move toward the sizeable flat-screen computer monitor in the back of the ICU, Debbie Prince asks, “Any head trauma?”
“Yes,” Dr. Jones said. “The EMT said he was out cold. From what we can tell from their report, the truck crossed the centerline and hit your father head-on. His airbag deployed and broke both his arms. Apparently, he isn’t wearing his seatbelt, so he goes over the top of the airbag, and struck his head on the windshield frame. The engine collapsed the firewall and smashed his leg. He’s lucky to be alive.”
Debbie shakes her head, and said, “Maybe now he’ll start wearing his seatbelt. I’ve been on him for years. Did you do a head CT?”
Dr. Jones pulls up the CT scan image on the monitor. “No signs of bleeding, but he has what we call a diffuse axonal injury, which basically means he bruised his brain.” He then pulls up the xrays of his arms, and leg for her see.
“Shit,” she said wide-eyed. “You don’t have to be a doctor to see something’s wrong there.”
“Yes, but the surgery went well, and all he needs now is time to heal.”
Jones gazes at her carefully. Debbie appears as tired as he feels. She has dark blue eyes that make him wonder if they’re actually that color, or if she’s wearing tinted contact lenses. Her straight dark hair is pulled into a ponytail. Debbie has thin lips that turn up at the corners, so she appears to be smiling, and a small, cute cleft in her chin. She’s immaculately dressed in a black dress falling to just above her knees. The dress has a deep V-neck, and she’s wearing a beige blouse with frills around the collar. The woman appears to have large breasts, although it’s difficult for the doctor to tell. Over the dress, she wears a fitted red coat that ends at the same length as her dress and enhances the length of her body. He thought she’s probably about five feet six, and shapely.
“Did you fly in today?” Jones asks.
“Uh-huh,” she said nodding her head. “I was in Denver at a conference when I got the call. I jumped on the first flight I could.”
“Well, I’m on duty until eight tomorrow morning, so why don’t you head home. Try to get some sleep.”
Debbie smiles brightly at him. She has a dazzling smile, with high cheekbones, and small creases around her mouth that gives away her age. He correctly guesses the brunette is in her early thirties. “I live in Miami,” she said, “but I guess I can go stay at my Dad’s house. I’ll leave my cell phone number with the nurse. Please do call me if there’s any change.”
He returns her smile, and said, “Of course.” He places his hand on her shoulder, and said, “He’ll be fine.”
“Do you mind if I look in on him quickly before I go?”
“Not at all, he’s being sedated at the moment, so he’s asleep, but we’ll wake him in the morning.”
When she’s taken to her dad’s bed, both his arms are in casts that run from just above his elbows to enclose his hands thoroughly. There are pillows on either side of him, and the casts are resting on those pillows. His left leg is in a cast extending to just above his knee and is elevated. He’s sleeping soundly. Debbie smiles and touches his cheek with the back of her hands.
“Hi, Daddy,” she whispers. “I’m here now, I’ll look after you.”
She kisses him lightly and leaves the ICU.
Debbie Prince is the only child of Mike and Ellen Prince. Ellen died when Debbie was in grade school, so Mike raised her. This generated an incredibly close bond between the two of them that continues to this day. Mike is her best friend. When Debbie graduated from high school, she entered a nursing program and has worked as a nurse since graduating. Seeing her dad in the ICU had been a bit of a shock, which surprises her as she’s seen almost everything in her career as a nurse.
The brunette let herself into her dad’s house and heads straight upstairs to the spare room that was her room when she was a child. She throws her coat on the bed, and then plops next to it, exhausted. Tears start rolling from her eyes, which is more to do with exhaustion than fear. Her dad had been lucky. After a good cry, she digs out her cell phone and calls the hospital she works at to let them know she’s going to have to take a leave of absence to help care for her father for at least six weeks or until the casts came off his arms. Until then, he’ll be helpless.
Debbie creates a mental checklist of things she’ll have to do. She’ll need to get a hospital bed delivered to his house, as well as several other pieces of equipment. The woman is glad of her nursing background, which will help with the care he’s going to need. After a hot shower, she climbs into bed and is soon asleep.
Her phone startles her awake when it rings. “Hello,” she said, trying to hide her grogginess.
“Ms. Prince, this is Dr. Jones. I’m sorry to wake you.”
Now, she’s wide awake. “How’s my dad?” she blurts with bulging eyes and pale face.
“He’s fine. In fact, he did so well last night I’m transferring him to the ward today.”
She sighs and breathes again. “That’s great news, thanks.”
“They’ll call, and tell you what ward when it’s organized,” he said, “I suggest you don’t come in until about eleven, the morning’s going to busy for him. But we told him you’re here, and that cheered him up a lot.”
Her heart swells with love. “Thank you, Dr. Jones. I really appreciate what you and your staff have done for him.”
“That’s no problem, I’m sure with a loving daughter’s help he’ll be back on his feet in no time,” he said warmly. “The Orthopedic Consultant Mr. Harry Fry will take over his care now. You’ll meet him, and his team on the ward and they’ll discuss with you what’s ahead for your dad.”
“Hey, Dad,” Debbie said as she enters his room in the Orthopedic ward.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said quietly with a feeble smile on his face.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel like I got run over by a truck. But, hey, the doctor tells me I’m lucky to be alive.”
Debbie shakes her head as she crosses the room to his bed. She carefully leans across his broken right arm and kisses him lightly on the cheek. “How many times have I told you about wearing a seatbelt, mister?”
“Yeah, I kinda learned my lesson, I guess,” he said, and grimaces. “I promise I’ll wear one from now on.”
Debbie rolls her eyes and moves to the foot of the bed. She pulls the chart and quickly reads through the notes. After replacing the chart, she moves to the IV pump, and carefully read the stickers on the fluid bags.
“You know,” Mike said, “the people here seem good at their jobs, so why don’t you stop being a nosey nurse, and just relax?”
“Asking a nurse not to be nosey is like asking the Pope to stop being Catholic,” Debbie said with a grin.
“How’s the new job going in Miami?” he asks.
Debbie is now a unit manager of a medical ward, which means she runs it. She moved to Miami to take up the position several years ago much to her father’s disappointment. Mike wanted her to stay in Baltimore.
“Oh, busy as usual, you should move down there so I can take care of you.”
“Let’s not start that again,” he said rolling his eyes. “Miami’s too hot for me.”
“How long do you think they’ll keep me here?” he asks with a sullen face.
“Well, if you continue to do well, probably around ten days.” She sits in the chair next to his bed. “I’ve already arranged for home health to send over a bed, a toilet, and some other equipment we’ll need for a bit. I called work, and takes time off; they owe me heaps of leave anyway. Once you’re doing well in rehab, I’ll arrange some help at home for you until your back to normal. But until then, I’m looking after you.”
“You can’t take time off—” he starts to say, but she holds up her hand, and gives him a stern look. Mike sighs. “You remind me so much of your mother when you do that,” he said sadly.
“Then it’s settled,” Debbie said. “I’m doing this for your own good.”
“So much like your mother,” he said and turns away.
Soon he’s fast asleep.
“How’s that—comfy?” Debbie asks as she pulls the light sheet, and cover up over his chest.
Mike had been released from the hospital that day, and the ambulance just delivered him to the house. Debbie set up a bed in the living room on the first floor of the house. She plans to sleep on the couch in the same room for a few days, and then decide from there when she moves to her old room upstairs.
“Good. I’m going to rest my eyes now, I feel exhausted,” Mike said, falling asleep almost immediately.
She observes him and does a quick check of his vitals. At fifty-years-old, he’s healing well, but will still need time for his bones to knit, and then rehab to rebuild his wasted muscles so he can get back to his regular life again. Broken bones take six weeks to heal, and not much rehab can be done in that time.
Debbie takes a deep breath and thought: Time to switch from daughter mode to nurse mode. She quietly climbs the stairs and goes into her bedroom. The brunette pulls her T-shirt off over her head and then drops her jeans to the floor. Although she is thirty-three, she has the body of curvy early twenties. She eats right and exercises at the gym at least four days a week. She eyes herself in the mirror as she slips her bra off. Debbie’s large breasts assume their natural shape, and she’s pleased to see there’s not a hint of sag in them. The brunette has large dark nipples that match her large breasts nicely. She pulls a sports bra out of her chest-of-drawers and puts it on. Then Debbie pulls out the new pair of scrubs she purchased from the outlet store near the hospital dresses in them. She isn’t satisfied with the fit, as the store was out of her size, and the shirt is really too big for her. Debbie pulls her dark hair into a ponytail.
“Ready. You can do this,” Debbie said to her reflection.
She sighs and goes back downstairs to find her Dad sleeping soundly.
Debbie pulls out her computer to catch up on some of her work emails; even on leave, her unit needs her input. After a period of quietness, she hears her Dad croak.
“Debbie. Can I get some water please?” Mike said softly.
She has placed a pitcher of water next to his bed along with the cup she brought home from the hospital. Of course, since both of his arms are in casts, Mike is helpless.
“Here you go,” she said as she places the bent straw to his lips.
He takes a very long draw. “Thanks.”
He glances at her and then frowns.
“What is it?” she asks. “Are you in pain?”
“Well, kind of.” He shut his eyes, sighs, and then opens them to look at her again. “We might as well get this over with. I’ve gotta pee.”
“Ah, yes. I know it’s embarrassing, Dad, but just remember I’m a nurse, I’ve seen everything before.”
“Yeah, well, you haven’t seen mine,” he said with a pout.
She smiles at him thinking it’s the typical male ego crap she’s found nursing men and goes to retrieve the urinal and some wipes. She pulls the covers down to his knees and unbuttons the fly to his pajamas.
“Just relax, dad, this won’t take long.
Debbie reaches into his pajamas and feels for his penis. The brunette gasps softly when her fingers touch a rather smallish penis; in fact, she has to fish around to kind of dig it out from his pubic hair. As Debbie pulls his flaccid penis barely out of his pajamas, she’s amazed at just how small it is. Holy shit, she thought, dads gotta baby dick.
This is an excerpt from the SPH story “Just Like Your Mother,” — Buy the eBook and read the whole sexy, humiliating story! (14,000+ words)