Daddy's Little Whore
Daddy’s Little Whore – Part 63

KEIRA’S POV

The day after the humiliating conversation with professor Lewis was my therapy session with Clint. Professor Lewis’ words rang in my head as I drove to the clinic. It was all I could think about and my mood had taken a turn since yesterday.

Slut shaming me because I missed classes was taking it too far. What crawled up his a*s and died? I bet he would not have spoken to me that way had I not opened my legs for him. It was my fault for jumping on every male I found attractive.

But on the brighter side of it, Clint was going to cheer me up. He always knew the right things to say. I had no idea on how he did it. He just never failed to make me feel better.

I liked how close we had gotten recently after he came clean about his ex wife. If he had done so earlier I would not have gotten the wrong idea and mistaken her for his girlfriend. There were no more secrets between us now. I preferred it this way.

I pulled up in front of the clinic and stepped inside, flashing a quick smile at the receptionist. Clint’s office door was slightly open but I still knocked before entering.

He was already there as usual, in his formal clothes, drinking coffee from a mug.

“Welcome, Keira.” Clint put the mug away. His eyes scanned me from toe to head until I took a seat. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good, I guess.” Not really. I shrugged. “I went back to school yesterday and found out I am failing a lot of classes.”

“Is that why you seem a bit gloomy?”

Did I? I thought I was doing a good job of hiding my moodiness. But then again, he never failed to see right through me. “That is part of the reason.”

“Well, I am ready to listen whenever you are ready to talk.”

Clint gave me all the time to collect my thoughts as I unmasked things I had kept tucked away in my head little by little.

“School feels like a place where I am being judged by a lot of people who do not even know me,” I said. “And I did not care about being judged. I lived by my own rules and did what I wanted.”

Clint nodded slowly to let me know he was comprehending, giving me more space to talk.

“But recently, things have changed. I am starting to see clearly the life I created for myself, and I do not like it. It is a mess.”

“What do you think changed?”

I did not have a f*****g clue in the world. Things just felt a lot more different now. I could not place a finger on it.

“I do not know,” I replied honestly. “What I do know is my life is a mess. I am the cause.” Clint was not jotting anything down. He did not even have my file or a pen in his hands. “I am sorry this is not a s*x related issue. You can choose to ignore it. You are a s*x therapist, not a counsellor.”

He simply shrugged. “I do not mind. I like a challenge.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“You can talk to me about anything, Keira. S*x related or not.”

His voice was patient and it made my edgy nerves calmer. Clint was one of the very few people I knew who would not judge me. So I took in a deep breath before I continued, choosing to take his words for it.

“My dad is asking me to be strong too,” I remembered Papa’s words and I had been trying not to think about it. “I do not know if I can be. I am not strong. I have never been. If I was, I would not come to therapy to fix myself.”

“You think you are here to ‘fix’ yourself?” Clint asked rhetorically. “Keira, you are in therapy to let go of unhealthy patterns. The sooner you realise you are not a damaged toy that needs fixing, the better.”

I chewed on my lower l*p, seeing complete sense in what he just said. “You are right.” I ran a hand through my hair. “How are you always right?”

Clint gave me a brief smile. “It is a skill.”

“Anyway, I have also been feeling left out of my friend group recently. Natasha and Brendon love me, I know that. I can’t help but feel this way.”

I paused again to catch my breath. “I do not know what is wrong with me.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You are human. You have a natural tendency to feel emotions even if they are uncomfortable ones.”

Yes, there was nothing wrong with them. They only came in such a huge wave that it felt overwhelming all at once. I was having a hard time sorting them out.

“Now, let us start with you feeling judged at school.” Clint interlocked his fingers in front of him, ready to get down to business. “Why would you say you are being judged?”

“My professor slut shamed me in front of a class yesterday,” I told him and I saw his jaw tick. I might have been mistaken, though. “I could not even say anything in return because I used to have s*x with him before I started therapy.”

“That was very low of him. S*x goes both ways. If he accuses you of being a slut because you slept with him, then he is not any better himself. The idea of women being termed as sluts for having multiple s****l partners is hypocritical when men do far worse and get away with it.”

The change in Clint’s mood was slight but I knew he was upset. I liked this protective side of him. “You are a lot of things, Keira. And none of them is being a slut. So the next time this professor brings it up, you need to put him in his place.”

There would not be a next time. I was going to try as I could to ignore him.

“So you say you did not use to care about people’s judgemental attitude towards you?”

I nodded.

“But now things have changed and you care about your reputation.”

I nodded again.

“When did you start noticing these changes? Think back to the time it crossed your mind.”

I took a minute to give it a thought. Before meeting Clint and starting therapy, I was comfortable living in my old ways and did not have a care in the world. The urge to quench my thirst for s*x with anyone I met was always overcome by rational thinking.

I had my answer. These changes began when I started therapy. And Clint knew it too. He just wanted me to realise it on my own. I can say it worked.

“It is normal for people to have even the slightest change in character when visiting therapy,” he continued after seeing the look of realisation on my face. “It means my methods are working. You are reevaluating your life and I think you should be proud of yourself.”

“I do not feel proud of myself.” There was hardly anything to be proud of. My entire life was a mess and I still had to force myself to be strong about it because Papa told me to.

“You are self-destructing again,” Clint replied. “It is okay to reward yourself when you reach a milestone and be proud of it. When was the last time you were proud of yourself?”

“Literally never.”

“Here is an assignment for you.” Clint leaned forward on his seat. “I want you to acknowledge every progress you make on yourself. It does not have to be that significant. Be a little less hard on yourself. I want you to forgive your past self because she was only a child. I am sure she would be proud of how far you have come.”

I caught myself agreeing with him. Clint had me fully roped in by his words.

The timer went off, signalling the end of our session. I wished I could spend more time with him. He looked like he wanted the same too.

“What are you doing after work?” I asked him.

“More work.”

“Do you not ever catch a break?”

“It is about the court case.” I instantly understood when he said that. The issue with his ex wife was still out there waiting to be solved. I wanted to ask if he had found anything on her yet but at the same time, I did not want to pry too much. Clint said he could handle it, and he was more than capable.

“Good luck with that.”

I closed his office door behind me and hoped for the best outcome.