Jock McLeish becomes a trans woman

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An ordinary rainy night in a Glasgow Pub in the Scottish area of England

A man neatly dressed in dinner jacket, white open neck shirt and a neat black kilt walked in.

“Wee Jock McLeish as I live and breathe,” Andy Cameron suddenly announced as he looked up from his whiskey, “Whit ye daein here in Glasgie, and in a kult?”

Jock swiftly replied “Ah Andy man, uts nae a kult uts a skirt, uts nae tartan see.”

“Eh?” Andy queried, he turned to the girl he was drinking with. “Eh Morag, Wee Jock here is wearin a skirt.”

“Its a Kilt you twat,” Morag explained.

“No its a skirt,” Jock explained, “Ah’m transitioning tae a wooman, Ah’m weain’ a skirt as a part oh it.”

“Really?” Morag asked.

“Aye, Ah’m transitioning tae a lesbeen,” Jock explained

”Ah ken its been a while but youse was a pussy fiend when youse was last around these parts,” Andy observed.

Jock continued. “Ah been down London an’ I thought I was hame sick and I saw a shrink an she said she used to be a guy and she was never happy until she transitionated and had her balls cut off and she thought I might be the same like.”

“Whit, You a Homo?” Andy asked stunned.

“No, I’m becoming a Lesbeen,” Jock explained, “No more willy flopping agen ma lags, ut’ll be grand.”

“You’ll need to shave your beard,” bursa eskort Morag said and she called her friend over, “Janet, wee Jock here is transitionin’ tae a Lesbeen

Janet was shocked, “What about yer beard?”

“Ah grewed it for one last time afore ah has me whatsits chopped,” Jock explained, “Ah doon like ma coke and balls slappin’ ma thigh, ah wanna be a lesbeen.”

“Ye’ve no had em chopped off yet then?” Janet queried.

“No yet, ah’ve tae see ma specialist the morrow tha ken,” Jock explained.

“I suppose the medication has shrivelled your balls to little peas,” Janet laughed, “And your cock to a little weenie cotton bud!”

“No exactly,” Jock explained, “Thet’s why it’s comin’ aff.”

“Gi us a look then,” Morag chuckled.

“Dinna be sae rude,” Jock replied.

“Gae wan, were all girls together,” Morag insisted,

“All reet, in the bog then,” Jock agreed and he headed for the ladies rest room with the girls following.

“Bloody hell!” Morag exclaimed as Jock sat on the bog seat and raised the hem of his skirt. He was wearing tartan socks and boots open crotch fishnet pantihose and split crotch panties. His cock was taped back around under his ass or it was until Morag touched it. There was a tearing sound and quite suddenly it tore itself free from the tapes and bursa escort bayan stood up a full 10” (250 mm).

“Ah what ye doin?” Jock gasped, “Ets no done that afore.”

“Oh fuck, you wazzock, what a fucking waste,” Morag stammered, “Jesus.” Her eyes were like saucers, “Ets beautiful, ye cannae have ut chopped off.”

“Et’s a nuisance, ah dinnae feel et,” Jock lied.

“Really?” Morag asked as she stroked the now erect shaft.

“No, ets deed.” Jock confirmed, “I cannae feel onything at all frae it.”

“What about now,” Morag asked as she squeezed Jock’s balls.

“Nae nothing,” he lied.

Morag pushed the crotch of her knickers aside and she straddled Jock and sank down burying his cock in her well juiced vagina.

“Now?” she asked.

“Nae but its lovely having ye so close,” he said as she squirmed around on his cock.”

Janet looked on somewhat drunkenly, “Gerroff let me have a go, “ she insisted.

Morag reluctantly moved aside as Janet removed her jeans and pants completely and took Morag’s place straddling Jock and sinking down onto his penis.

“Now can you feel that?” Janet insisted as she squeezed Jock’s shaft with her well developed and well practised cunt muscles.

“No, not really.” Jock lied as he desperately tried to görükle escort resist the temptation to hump her.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really,” he replied, but he lost concentration and he started to cum.

“You filthy fucking lying pig,” Janet gasped as Jock started to cum, “You’re not transitioning at all, you’re just a chancer and a pervert,” she snapped, “Oh that feels fucking good, the bastard’s cumming in pints.”

“Ye lyin bastard,” Morag added, “Jist wait till get my hands on ye.” But she didn’t, Janet climbed off wee Jock and he made a run for it before Janet could pull her pants on.

“Bastard, stop the bastard,” they cried as the exited the ladies and sought out wee Jock.

“What happened?” Andy and Hamish, Janet’s boyfriend demanded.

“Yer mates’s nae more a tranny than Borse Johnson,” The barmaid Jeannie McLean laughed, “I went in the bog just now and he just screwed baith yer girlfriends in the bog cubicle.

“What a bastard!” Hamish shouted.

“Fucking legend, the stuff folk will do to get laid,” Andy sighed, “Your turn to get a round in I believe Morag.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Morag agreed as she tried to remember if she had taken the pill recently and Janet wondered why the hell she had impaled herself on wee Jock’s cock. She realised it was due to several double Jack Daniels (an alcoholic beverage)she had consumed and she vowed to stick to scotch whisky in future.

And Jock, well he’s no had his balls off yet so Ladies beware the six foot three Scotsman with a black skirt and the gift of the gab.

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