Not My Kid

Jagger used to call him Dad, but Kirk knows better now. It's been eight years since Kirk has seen his stepson, eight years during which the boy has grown up to be both handsome and a troublemaker. When his most recent tangle with the law lands him back in Kirk's lap, Kirk is determined to be sterner this time. A man has to do what a man has to do.

Jagger used to call him Dad, but Kirk doesn't allow that anymore. All Jagger wants is someone to care for him. Not just a father figure but a father. The spankings Kirk gives him speak of concern. The sex speaks of lust. But where does love come into it?

Jagger used to call him Dad, because that's what they thought Kirk was to him. So what is he now? Is he only a boy to Kirk's Daddy, an ex-stepson to his ex-stepfather, or could they have been right all those years ago, back when Jagger used to call him Dad?

Content warning for unexpected incest and dubious BDSM practices


“If you want to live in my house, you follow my rules.”

“I know. You said.”

“When you break the rules, there will be punishment.”

Jagger’s face screwed up in confusion. “I thought you were throwing me out.”

“That’s up to you. If you want to stay, you take your punishment. Otherwise, you can pack your things and leave.”

A range of expressions flickered across Jagger’s face—first relief, then fear, then resignation.

“Guess I’ll take the punishment.” He was trying to sound tough, but Kirk heard the little boy beneath the bravado. That was good. He was getting through, exerting his dominance.

“Then come over here. Right here in front of me.”


He’d been spanked as a child, and he remembered how it went. He remembered that he’d never questioned his father’s authority either. Never talked back, never broke any rules. He’d been too lenient with Jagger. Maybe too lenient with him when he was a little boy but definitely too lenient these last few weeks.

“Now tell me what you did.”

“You know what I did.”

He fixed Jagger with a gaze he hoped was intimidating.

“I… I snuck out of the house.”


“And nothing. I was going to suck some dick, but you stopped me.”

“Intentions count. Now apologize.”

Jagger glanced at the front door, as if reconsidering his decision to take his punishment. He would be reconsidering even harder once he learned what the punishment was, but for now he turned back to Kirk, lowered his chin, and said, “I’m sorry.”


“For risking your reputation.”

“And your own safety. Your entire future. Your lawyer just got the last charge bargained down. What do you think would happen if you got caught a second time?” Kirks voice cracked, because he really did worry about the kid—the kid he remembered, not so much this one.

Jagger looked up, his mouth twisting into a shape that expressed true regret. Kirk hadn’t meant to show any weakness, but if displaying emotion got Jagger to understand how serious this was, maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“I’m sorry,” Jagger said again, with more meaning this time.

“What do you think the appropriate punishment would be? How many?”

Jagger tilted his head. “Like days of being grounded?”

“Like my palm is going to meet your ass. How many times?”

Jagger’s mouth dropped open into a stunned O. Men had put their cocks into that O, which looked round enough to take them. But this O was one of disbelief, not lewdness. He closed his mouth, then swallowed visibly.

“You’re going to spank me?” he asked in a whisper.

“That’s what punishment is, Jagger. You agreed to punishment.”

“Yeah, but…” He looked at the door again. “I’m not a little boy.”

“You’ve been acting like one—not taking responsibility for himself or for anything else around the house. So if you’re going to act like a little boy, you’re going to be treated like one.”