His father.

“Merry?”

“Dad!” Oh shit.

The pair of them stared at each other. Merry’s expression was one of fear and terror. His father’s ran a gamut of surprise, shock, bewilderment, confusion, loathing.

“Why are you wearing your sisters clothes, and why that particular dress...? You know I don’t like that dress.”

“I ... dunno...” Merry said quietly, too scared to admit to his father, least of all himself, that he had rather enjoyed the experience. At least until his father had walked into the room.

“You’re a fucking faggot?”

“What! No! I like girls!” On that score, he really did. He didn’t really know why he liked them, he just did. He had seen hard-core porno’s and had wanted to be the stud, not the girls.

It was just that he had liked the feel of his sisters clothes upon his body. He liked how they looked upon his body.

“Then why are you standing there, dressed like a street whore?” His father sounded angry. Like, really angry.

“I...” Merry cast around in his imagination for something that would get him out of this current predicament. The sooner the better. “was just curious as to how it felt to wear...” He trailed off as his father’s darkening expression told him he was only making matters worse.

“And the footwear?”

Merry involuntary looked down at the strappy heels he was wearing.

Merry’s father advanced. He really did not look happy. Merry had nothing for the defence of being in his sisters heels.

“Do you wonder what it’s like to kneel down and suck a man’s cock?”

That caught Merry off guard, he had never expected such language from his father.

“No!”

Which was true. Up until now, he had never thought about sucking a man’s cock. Or a boy’s cock. Or any cock for that matter.

“I don’t fucking believe you.” His father snarled.

A shiver of fear ran down Merry’s spine. Their dad never swore at them. He hadn’t even sworn at his sister when he had first become aware of the existence of that dress and now he had sworn, twice, at Merry.

His fathers fists were bunched and given the snarl across his face, the danger he was in was rapidly making itself known to Merry.

“This can’t go unpunished, you know that?”

Merry nodded. It had been many years since he had been spanked by his father. It had always been their father. Their mother had always left punishment to her husband, even if she was the one to have discovered the wrongdoing.

‘Wait till your father gets home... .’ Had always been a phrase that had harboured doom, or at least sore buttocks, for the next few days. Not even his sister had escaped that fate when she was younger. Though she had been far quicker at learning to hide her wrong doing, and better at doing so, than Merry had been.

A hand grabbed his wrist and he was all but dragged to the bed where his father sat down at the end. He pulled Merry across his knees. Merry could feel the motion of being bent over, along with the friction of his fathers trousered knees, drag up his sisters already scandalously short dress. Way higher than was decorous. Not that his present situation was in any way decorous.