Secrets of a Slut Mother

[JoeWhite1]

Cherry had been forced to find work after her husband abandoned her and their daughter Jane 10 years previously because he accused her of not being able to give him a son. The reason for that was that when Jane was born the birth was very difficult, and the doctor warned Cherry that another birth would probably kill her, so she agreed to have her tubes tied, but her husband did not know this. She knew that he would not have believed the doctor, but after years of trying to make her pregnant again, he gave up and left to find a woman who could provide him with a son. As there is no divorce in Philippines, Cherry could not demand maintenance from him, even if she knew where he was. However, for the last 10 years, Cherry had managed to support herself and Jane, including paying for Jane’s University education.

Now, Cherry was 46, and Jane was 23 and about to graduate from University with a degree in nursing, and had begun working as a trainee nurse at the local hospital in Manila for the practical requirement of her degree. And that’s when Cherry’s secret of how she had managed to support them both for 10 years was finally revealed.

And the lives of mother and daughter would never be the same again.
Jane was not supposed to be on duty that Saturday night, but the hospital was short-staffed, and they had called her earlier in the evening and asked if she could help out. Jane was bored and alone – there was only so much TikTok she could watch before it became boring; her mother had gone to work as she always did on a Friday and Saturday evening; and her boyfriend, Gary, was away visiting his mother in the province where he had been born because she was ill, and she needed someone to look after her. Gary had two sisters, but they were married and lived in Manila with young children to take care of, and Gary had just graduated and not yet found a job. So, Jane readily agreed to cover a night shift, especially as she could spend Sunday sleeping.

At the hospital, they assigned her to help in the Emergency Room (ER) where anyone suffering from sudden illness or accident injuries would walk in and receive treatment free of charge. The worst injuries usually arrived at about midnight when young guys who had had too much to drink started fighting and managed to hurt each other or when the users of shabu became paranoid and attacked other drug users who they believed were ghosts or the police or a million other drug-driven hallucinatory ideas.

Jane had never worked a night shift before, so it was a new experience for her to assist in treating the typical injuries that had been caused by alcohol or drug induced violence. When she asked if the patients ever became violent towards the staff, she was told that it happened sometimes, but there were security guards whose job was to make sure that the medical staff were secure and the violent patients were restrained.

Nothing upsetting happened to Jane that night, and by 2 a.m. the stream of injured or ill patients had slowed to a trickle.

Jane was able to relax and take a break at that time. She was feeling a bit sleepy, so she headed to the break room, which was situated just across from the main reception desk of the ER, in search of a cup of coffee to wake her up. In the room she found two older nurses also drinking coffee and chatting.
Having found a paper cup, Jane made herself a cup of coffee that she sipped slowly. The two older nurses welcomed her and suggested that she should sit down.

“Always take the opportunity to sit when you can,” one said. “You never know how long you might have to be on your feet, and it’s not good for your circulation to stand for a really long time.”

So, Jane sat and began chatting to the two older women. They were curious about her college degree because when they had trained as nurses, it was more practical than theoretical, so although they probably knew more about nursing than Jane, she probably had a broader knowledge of medicine than they did.

However, one thing they definitely knew more about was what it was like to work on a night shift in a busy ER.

And that is what Jane wanted to know more about.

“Are most of the patients injured because of fighting?” she asked.

“Well, we sometimes have car or motorbike crash injuries to deal with,” one replied. “Then there are domestic violence cases. Those can be really sad because even though the woman has been attacked by her partner, she usually refuses to file a case against him with the police, and after we have patched her up, she returns to her abuser.”

“And of course, we have to deal with the putas who get beaten up by their pimps for not earning enough,” said the other nurse.

“Anyway, you’ll soon see the violence against women cases. They usually arrive at around 3 a.m. for some reason.”

And with that, the two older nurses, threw their empty paper coffee cups into the garbage, and rose to their feet to return to their duty.

Jane was about to follow them, but as she opened the door to the break room, she stood for a moment to smooth and straighten her uniform.

And that’s when she saw a familiar figure at the reception desk.

The woman, for it was a woman that she saw, had her back to Jane, but she knew instantly that there was only one person it could be - her mother Cherry - even though her long black hair was all messy and not nicely hanging down her back as usual.

Jane was just about to rush out to see why her mother was in the ER at such an hour when she heard the receptionist ask what had happened. Somehow, she stopped where she was so that she could hear her mother’s answer. She really didn’t know why she did that, but maybe it was the chat about women who had suffered violence that made her consider whether her mother might be one of those victims.

And to her surprise, Cherry answered that she had been hit by her husband.

Jane could see that she had lifted her left hand to point to the side of her face.

The receptionist nodded, and signaled to Cherry that she should go with a nearby nurse to have her injury examined. Jane watched as Cherry was led away towards the curtained examination cubicles each of which contained a bed for the injured and sick to rest while waiting to be diagnosed by a doctor. This area was to the right of where Jane was still hovering in the open doorway of the break room so that Cherry was not able to see her as she followed the nurse to an empty examination cubicle.

Since Cherry’s husband, Jane’s father, had not been in touch for the last 10 years, Jane was puzzled by why he had suddenly reappeared, how he had known where to find her mother, and why he had hurt her.

So, she walked to the examination area, and seeing that the cubicle next to where her mother had been taken by the nurse was empty, she entered and closed the curtains indicating to other nurses that this cubicle was not free for use.

Getting as close as possible to the curtain separating the two cubicles, Jane was able to make out the conversation between the nurse and her mother. The sound was not perfect, but the ER was fairly quiet at that time of the late night, so there was little background noise to prevent her hearing what was being said by the nurse and her mother.

The nurse was asking Cherry how her face had been injured and as Jane continued to listen, she heard Cherry explain that when she came home from her job as a singer in a band, her husband was awake and drunk. He started an argument, accusing her of having an affair with another member of the band in spite of it not being remotely true.

Jane’s right hand flew upwards to stop her open mouth from making a sound. “What the hell is she saying?” she muttered under her breath.

Jane continued to hear her mother explain a long story of trying to calm her husband down, but he refused to listen to her. She said he called her a lot of really nasty and hurtful names like bitch, whore, slut and accused her of fucking the whole band.

When she tried to get him to stop and begged him to go to bed, the word ‘bed’ seemed to trigger even more rage in him and that’s when he hit her really hard on the left side of her face. Cherry said that she had tried to escape by entering the small toilet (known as Comfort Room or CR in Philippines) just off the kitchen, but she slipped in her hurry and had fallen down. That’s when she hit her forehead on the edge of the sink in the room as she fell and she had felt blood starting to trickle down, making a mess of her makeup as it did so.

Then in a low voice, she confessed that the most shameful thing had happened next. After she fell, she found herself lying on the tiled floor of the CR and her husband had followed her, still angry and seeking for ways to punish her for the imaginary insult of making him a cuckold with multiple men.
He soon found the means to punish her.

He dropped his shorts, pulled his cock out of his underwear, and aimed it at her.

Then he pissed on her head and face, and that’s why her hair was messed and matted, and her makeup ruined.

As she explained the sordid scene to the nurse, Cherry’s voice broke and she started sobbing.

The nurse tried to comfort her, but Cherry continued to cry pitifully. Then the nurse said that she would leave Cherry for 15 minutes while she arranged to take her to X-Ray her face in case her jaw was broken or dislocated. Cherry did not reply, but continued to cry.

However, two minutes after Jane heard the nurse leave the cubicle, the sound of sobbing stopped as suddenly as it had started and Jane heard a little giggle from her mother’s cubicle.

Jane was horrified at the way her mother had lied and cried so convincingly, and made the nurse believe her story.

But Jane knew that this could not be true because there was no CR off the kitchen in their house. And besides, her father did not drink so far as she could remember because he suffered from a kidney problem that meant he could not drink more than a small glass of light beer.

So why was Cherry inventing this story?

Jane knew she would have to confront her mother, but now was not the time or place.

That would have to wait until the morning.