A Change Of gender And Beyond
by F.W. Hinton
A hush fell over the gallery that surrounded the operating
theatre as Professor Gaisford, scrubbed up and ready walked
in. His surgical team, gowned and waiting. There were
obstetricians, gynaecologists and specialists in
sex-reassignment from centres around the world. All of them
having read the Professor's paper on cloning genitalia using
the patient's own erectile tissue and a suitable vehicle.
The completion of Shaun Maclaren's reassignment program
coming at the end of the week long congress was the climax
of the event. The Professor and his colleagues knew it
would give the stimulus needed to further the cause of the
world's transexual population, and those unfortunate victims
of genital accidents and diseases. He had said as much
during his lecture on the first day of the congress that had
been arranged by the Middle Eastern College of Obstetrics
Shaun Maclaren lay on the table under the lights. He had
been prepped. The Anaesthetist, John Walsh had injected the
medication to put him to sleep, and a nurse eased a
ventilator down Shaun's trachea. The cloned penis had been
removed from the vehicle and was packed in the gas-cooled,
Shaun had been told days before that the, now flaccid base
of the clone would be grafted into his vagina. That the
urethra tube from his bladder would be joined by
micro-surgery to the pipette that ran the length of the
penis to it's heart-shaped head. That his clitoris would be
attached to another pipette and buried in the shaft the
third pipette being used for body secretion.
Shaun was anxious to know how long it would be before he
could use his new manhood to it's fullest extent.
" With rest and Leah's nursing, I would say about three
months," the Professor told him.
" As long as that? I thought---."
" It's only an estimate Shaun, and a lot does depend on
Leah. Manipulation by yourself or your partner could be
possible within a few weeks. However there is one major
problem we have to overcome first, and that is the closure
of your vagina."
" I thought that would have been easy. Surely it can be
closed by grafting or some other form of surgery."
" It's not that simple," the Professor said with a grin. "
We wouldn't want it to break open. It has to be more than
grafted and sutured. Those procedures will help but it not
the complete answer."
" What is?" Shaun asked
" When you came here two weeks ago for your final
examination," the Professor continued, ignoring Shaun's
question. " We removed a sample of skin from the side of
your vagina. Perhaps you wondered why."
" I did," Shaun replied thoughtfully, " the patch has almost
healed. Leah seems pleased with it's progress. But I still
don't see what that has to do with closing my vagina."
" To give a rough explanation Shaun. The sample was immersed
in a liquid enzyme that breaks it down into millions of
cells. Our lab technicians then transferred the cells into
culturing flasks containing cells that stimulate growth.
They were placed in an incubator, where they multiply very
quickly and bond into sheets of skin. Although the sheets
are fragile, about the texture of tissue paper they will be
grafted, in small sections around the base of the penis and
over the sutured vagina. This will ensure it's permanent
You have to realise Shaun, that it will take some time for
the new skin to toughen and take on normal pigmentation.
Once it has gained full strength the wound will not break
down, and you will be able to use your manhood with
One other thing Shaun, testosterone injection will not be
necessary in the future. A new pellet has been developed
which will be placed under the skin close to your spine
every three months. It is a procedure Leah can handle
without a doctor's supervision.
Shaun Maclaren was happy. This was the last hurdle before
becoming a whole man. He had waited most of his life. A few
more months would not matter. Leah had discussed the
procedures with him. They both knew, their hopes, their
dreams would come true before the end of another year.
Using a high speed oscillating blade the Professor widened
the vaginal canal to receive the base of the penis. The
urethra tube had been grafted, the clitoris implanted in the
shaft. The operation in it's final stages, all that
remained was the base and closure of the vagina and the skin
Professor Gaisford glanced at John Walsh It seemed that his
eyes and forehead had turned amber under the lights. He
stood beside his cylinders monitoring Shaun Maclaren's
The Professor, although occupied with the grafting
procedures was still alert to everything else around the
operating table. The nurses handling the instruments, the
gas bags, expanding and contracting with the patient's
in-drawn and out-going breath. The eyes of his colleagues
staring at him from the gallery.
It seemed along time since John Walsh had given out blood
pressure or pulse readings. He glanced at his assistant
" Blood pressure!" the doctor called.
" Pulse fading," the anaesthetist responded, turning one
cylinder up and the other one down.
There was a soft purr of oxygen.
" Pulse weak---now erratic," there was a note of anxiety in
the voice of John Walsh,
" Adrenaline!" Professor Gaisford commanded.
There was swift, disciplined movement in the theatre, and a
muffled gasp in the gallery as two amps of carb were called
The EKG leapt back into life. There was a sigh of relief.
Shaun Maclaren was out of danger.
Recovering his concentration with visible effort, the
Professor bent over his patient again.
" Skin hooks Nurse."
The skin hooks came into his line of vision as he drew the
open edges of Shaun's vagina together and watched them meet.
Then he placed the first suture with the turn of his wrist,
driving the half-circle needle of fine steel through and
When the other needle had been picked up by the holder, the
assistant surgeon had drawn the vagina together. The third
and fourth sutures went with similar precision.
A technician from the ground floor laboratory came into the
theatre with petri dishes of new skin. Each piece the size
of a postage stamp and backed with petroleum-jelly
impregnated gauze. With fine tipped forceps Professor
Gaisford plucked out the gauze backed graft and position it
over the sutured vagina, knowing that once the graft had
been laid it could not be removed.
" I'll do several at a time," he informed his assistant, "
then the suture nurse can take over and secure the grafts
The assistant surgeon examined the new skin, " it's so
thin," he observed realising the problem of the skins
The normal thickness of the epidermis is about fifteen
cells, the Professor added, placing another graft, " this
cultured skin is only seven cells thick . In places not
even that. Barely visible to the naked eye. Easily torn. No
underlying fibrous dermis is the problem."
" Could almost read a newspaper through it," the assistant
An hour later the grafts were in place. Each one two
millimetres apart, covering completely the closed vagina and
the base of the penis.
" This would be about the most painstaking operation I have
ever performed," the Professor told his staff, as he stood
back from the table, a dull ache in his legs and back.
He watched the head nurse insert a catheter and wrap the
area in nylon netting. Another nurse covered it with
absorbent gauze and bandaged the whole of Shaun's lower
In the recovery room Leah Wainwright sat beside Shaun's bed.
His hands moved above the covers, groping, as though to
touch the dressing. She reached out and held his hands
" He's coming out," she told the nurse at the foot of the
bed, " in a minute he'll open his eyes."
He tried to move. Leah told him that he must lie perfectly
still. That a catheter had been inserted. She told him that
if the area was knocked, even accidentally the grafts would
tear. The nurses tiptoed around him, afraid he might be a
ticking bomb, waiting to explode.
Ten days later he was taken into the theatre and
anaesthetized. The nurses removed the outer dressing. The
assistant surgeon took off the netting and lifted out the
staples. With his forceps he teased away the gauze.
Underneath the patches of skin had grown together. Shaun's
vagina, completely disappeared, new skin covered the whole
area. The cloned penis, healthy, strong and erect.
Professor Gaisford came into the theatre as the last piece
of gauze was being teased away. He examined the sight with a
" This is a tremendous success for our hospital," he told
his staff, " thanks to your efforts we now have world
acclaim. We can help so many people. Not only those similar
to Shaun Maclaren, but victims of unfortunate accidents. We
can help them to find a better quality of life."
At the end of the following week Shaun put his feet over the
side of the side of the bed, Leah was there to help him
regain his balance. During the afternoon she allowed him to
go to the bathroom on his own to shower. The tears flowed
down his cheeks. This was the first time he had been able to
touch, to hold his manhood. It looked a pale, delicate
pink, it felt soft, warm and smooth.
He wanted to shout, tell the world that he, Shaun Maclaren
was now a whole man. In the half light and steam of the
hospital bathroom he looked in the mirror, wiping it with
the palm of his hands. For one brief, transient moment he
saw the face of his angel, yet he wasn't quite sure, perhaps
it was the face of his mother. He remembered her telling
him, may have been in a dream that one day he would be a
As the skin slowly grew stronger he carried out the
exercises the Physiotherapist recommended. He leant how to
control his bladder and how to walk like a man. They spoke
about body language, that he should cross his legs at the
ankles and to sit solidly in a chair. He felt a sense of
outstanding achievement when he no longer needed to wear a
napkin. He wondered if babies when being trained by their
parents had feelings similar to his own. If, being able to
control the liquid that flowed from the tip of the penis
gave them the same kind of thrill. He longed for the day
when he could leave the hospital. Go into a male toilet and
use the urinal, and stand amongst other men.
He thought about making love, wondered what it would feel
like, wondered if it would hurt, if it would harm his
new-found manhood. He dreamed about women, but wanted only
Leah, his manhood too precious for just anyone.
He spoke to Leah about his inner-most feelings. He knew she
wanted only him.
" It would be better to wait at least another month," she
told him, " we will know by then if it will be safe."
Leah Wainwright had never had an honest relationship. As a
man, before the sex-reassignment he had dated only one
woman. He had been dominated by her, told how to dress,
think, look feel and behave. When Leah the man rebelled the
woman turned on him, had him beaten up then dumped him.
After the reassignment she was always too busy for
meaningful relationships. She buried herself in her work at
the hospital, spent all of her spare time studying surgical
techniques, and passing exams. Her ambition to become the
Matron of a Teaching hospital. The one or two staff members
who dated her, made her feel so insecure, that she avoided
their company and endeavoured to put all males out of her
Shaun Maclaren was different. Even before he became a whole
man, he had that certain something, that she, Leah
Wainwright found irresistible. She had travelled half-way
round the world just to be with him. Now he had given her an
engagement ring, and she knew that her dream of getting
married in his wedding dress, as his mother had told her
really could come true.
The hospital staff held it's annual nurses reunion dinner.
Having decided to give up her career, Leah knew this would
be her last party. But for Shaun Maclaren it presented an
opportunity to prove to the world that he was a real man. He
wanted to celebrate. He thought of it as a coming out
party, a chance to assert himself as a man.
Halfway through the evening he got drunk and wanting to
dance with Leah, began looking for her. Someone told him
she had gone upstairs, and while waiting for her he danced
with a junior nurse. Feeling the floor tilt slowly up he
hung on to her and as he thought managed to stay on his
feet. He turned the girl around and around, dancing
beautifully, reversing with faultless grace. A male nurse
pulled him to his feet. It was then he realised he'd been
rolling all over the dance floor. They took him outside
where he was violently sick.
There was a tearing, stinging pain in his groin. The thought
that he might have damaged his manhood quickly cleared his
head. He needed Leah. She was the only one who could help
him. He looked for her in every car in the park. In some
there were couples, a few swore at him, others called him a
peeping Tom. Someone threatened to give him a hiding if he
didn't go away.
He went back to the dance floor hoping she was there. He
looked in the rooms on the ground floor. There were couples
in every room, some kissing, some talking others near naked
making love. The frustration was more than he could bear.
He fought back the tears and as suspicion took hold ran
upstairs to the consulting rooms. He opened one door, then
another. He ran along the corridor, saw Leah in one of the
rooms, wearing only a surgical gown, a man, bending over her
as she lay on a bed. Without stopping to think he flung open
" Leah!" he screamed. " Where have you been? What are you
doing --alone with a man---lying on a bed?"
Leah raised her hand to her face in horror. He saw the ring,
his ring. The diamond engagement ring he bought a few days
ago when she promised to marry him.
This world. This masculine world he had only just really
entered, the world he had longed to be part of all of his
life was collapsing around him. His head in a turmoil of
love, hate, jealousy. She was there on the bed with another
man. He wanted to do something to her, kill her, smash her
beautiful face. Anything, something that would humiliate
her, and destroy his own humiliation. Leah! His Leah. She
knew all his secrets. Slept in his home. Even shared in the
visions of his mother.
'What had Leah---and this man---this stranger been doing?'
The thought of him touching her, kissing her, his hands on
her legs - where else. Everything he hadn't done, wanted to
do to himself. In his mind, the agony of jealousy, brought
with it a kind of lustful pleasure.
The man turned, stared at him. " Get out immediately," he
shouted angrily. " You are in my consulting rooms. You will
be told when you may enter."
Too hurt to argue Shaun left the room and sat on a bench in
the corridor, crying as though his heart would break. He
tried looking in the window but a screen had been pulled
around the bed.
" You may come in now Mr Maclaren," the doctor called.
Shaun entered the consulting room after an eternity of
sitting outside staring into space. The doctor motioned him
to a chair in front of his desk.
" You may go to Leah as soon as she has finished dressing."
Shaun thanked him, sheepishly.
" She is one of my very special patients, and needed to
consult me on a personal matter," the doctor offered in
" But surely an appointment in the morning would have been
better for everyone," Shaun argued
" That, as Leah will tell you would not have been possible,"
the doctor retorted. " I am going on a lecture tour, and
have to leave early tomorrow morning. There would not have
been enough time."
" I'm sorry Doctor. I thought---."
" I know exactly what you thought Mr Maclaren," the doctor
said sternly, " I suggest you save your apologies for Leah
Wainwright. She's the one who has been hurt. You must know
she is in love with you. That because of you she is giving
up a brilliant career, which I feel is most unfortunate for
the hospital ."
" The doctor stood by his desk, gathered up his papers and
prepared to leave. " You may go to her now Shaun."
He stood for a moment by the open door and watched Shaun
hold Leah's hands as he sat by her side.
"I'm so sorry Leah," Shaun whispered, " please forgive me I
had no idea. I know I was being silly. I promise it will
never happen again. I should have known he was your doctor."
" He's not only my doctor," Leah said as she kissed him, "
he's my surgeon, the one who helped me become a woman."
Leah was worried about returning to the coast, worried about
Shaun's work as a tour guide. Once they were back, she
thought, Shaun in his old environment if she would be left
on her own for days, even weeks at a time.
" When are we going back to the coast?" she asked.
" Never!" he answered with a cheeky grin.
" Never! I don't want to stop in this place, day in day out,
nothing to do. I might as well go back to the hospital. I
thought you wanted me to give up my career, settle down
somewhere. Who knows one day with Professor Gaisford's help
we could start a ---."
" Leah! Stop please," Shaun interrupted. " We have a new
life. A new beginning, new hope."
" I know Shaun, and that is what worries me. How will we
manage. We need money---for so many things."
" We'll manage," Shaun reassured her. " The royalties from
the book, even those from the reprint are more then enough
to last us for years. You don't need to go back to nursing.
There's so much we have to see. So many places I want to
Perhaps in a year or two, when we've had enough of
travelling, we could settle down, think about a---. The
flat on the coast," he added quickly, " has been sold. This
flat, your unit, will you keep it?"
" This place?" Leah repeated, looking a little pensive, " I
suppose we--could sell it. Lease it out---something like
" We could if that is what you really want."
" Not really Shaun," she whispered, " I'd love to give it to
the hospital. It would be our way of saying thank you for
our lives. Thank you for helping us along the road to
freedom. Perhaps it could be arranged that people in similar
situations be allowed to use it while waiting for surgery.
Or it could be used as a convalescent unit."
British Airways 747 landed at Shannon airport. It was one
of Shaun's ambitions to visit Galway. The birth place of his
grandfather Angus Maclaren. He hoped to find a relative,
someone who might know something about him. As a tour guide
Shaun had tried many times to get an assignment to visit the
Vaguely he recalled his mother talking about the Twelve
Pins. A cottage in Connemara, where his grandfather was
born, of a photograph he had given her. Hours before he
passed away, how he had made his only son Ian promise to
take Rachell, his mother to Ireland, a promise that was
At the airport a hire car was waiting. With Leah he drove to
Bunratty where accommodation had been booked in the local
pub. As the open-topped sports car leapt through the lush
landscape, it seemed oddly silent, as if it belonged only to
them. They drove with a tremendous feeling of elation, a
feeling of freedom, of a future they would spend together.
Of a life without prejudice, a life they could call their
It was easy for them to believe the legend that, 'There's no
mist in Ireland---it's the tears of joy in your own eyes you
At the pub a warm welcome awaited them.
" You'd be the Maclaren that wrote that book, ' Spirits of
Parallel"' the landlord observed while they were having
their supper, " didn't go much on it myself. Caused a stir
among the women."
" It was Leah's fault," Shaun said with a grin, " she was
the one who sent it to the publishers."
" Everyone talks about it from Shannon to Galway," the
landlady interrupted, " we all reckon it's given us a better
understanding of Angels, of life when we pass over and
" There'd be a bit of old Angus in you Shaun Maclaren," the
Landlord added, " I still say you should have made more of
our lives and those of the wee leprechauns."
It was late when they went upstairs to bed. To their
surprise there was only one room with a huge canopied bed.
" There's only one room," Leah gasped when the landlady
finished stirring the fire and left, closing the door behind
" They must have booked us in together. I thought I heard
them call us Mr and Mrs Maclaren when we arrived. I can
always sleep on the floor---in front of the nice warm fire."
" You'll do no such thing Shaun Maclaren," Leah smiled. "
It's an enormous bed. Big enough for the two of us."
They sat for a long time in front of the blazing fire,
holding hands, neither saying a word. Both of them
wondering what the next few moments, minutes, hours might
bring. Both of them frightened, yet not wanting, not daring
to be afraid.
Leah withdrew her hand from his grasp, and when the fire
suddenly crackled Shaun turned, saw her in a blue negligee
lying in the middle of the bed. He he stared at her as she
lay against the white lace-edged pillows. Now, at last he
knew that the strand of web, the thread of love had been
tried, tested, gained breadth, and would never break.
After moments of being held in a trance by his eyes. Leah
became conscious of his soft gentle hands on her skin. When
his mouth closed on hers he slid his hand under the negligee
and eased out a soft, heavy cream breast. He caressed it,
kissed it, ran his tongue lightly over it's quivering red
The moment he stopped Leah gave a soft little cry. Caught
her breath in a sigh and begged him to go on. She closed her
eyes, cupped his face in her hands, her breasts aching to be
loved. She felt his hands sliding over the lace, exploring
every part of her body. With a wriggle she was out of her
negligee and lay motionless in his arms.
Murmuring low, unintelligible words he moved an began to
fondle her breasts. Holding them he suckled her, gently at
first, then firmly, with a greedy insistence.
" Shaun! Oh Shaun! That's wonderful---unbearable," she cried
holding his head to her breasts. Lost in the pleasure of his
soft drawing lips, all conscious thought deserted her.
Suddenly he stopped.
She released him. He poised himself above her, with one
hand held her wrists to the bed. Leah gasped, tried to reach
him, and writhed in frustration when his new manhood grazed
the inside of her legs.
" You can see me," he whispered in her ear, " you can't have
it until I allow it." He slid the other hand down her
Leah moaned, pleaded beneath him. " How can you? Please
Shaun, now I need you now. How can you stand it when you
know I need you?"
Shaun ignored her pleas for release, her low moan of
pleasure as he stroked the soft silken curls and warm
enfolding flesh. Leah out of control, writhed beneath him,
oblivious to all but his hands.
He recalled the sessions he had with his Physiotherapist who
had taught him so much about control.
" Male babies," he told Shaun, " with a few exceptions, as
they grow develop male, sometimes, dominant feelings. You
Shaun, having been born a female is something you will have
The therapist told him that his aim should be to avoid
losing control of his body. That this could only be achieved
by concentrating his thoughts, his mind on his partner.
He was taught how to make a woman reach heights of pleasure
and passion she may have never known, and hopefully would
never find with any other man. He learned how to control
moods. How to change from gentle passion to a wild
abandonment, then back to a gentle, lasting love. To treat
his new manhood, his beautiful, cloned penis as if it were
no less than a God. Now as the therapist had told him he
found it easy to read Leah's mind. To know her body, her
needs, for which she longed.
Shaun loved the excitement he was able to summon in Leah's
warm sensual flesh. To feel her writhing, helplessly beneath
him, knowing he had control. To him it was an achievement,
something he had wanted all of his life.
Long before her sex-reassignment Leah had dreamed of a
romantic bliss. The memories of her dreams, unforgettable,
if only because they were unlikely ever to come true. Now
Shaun! Her Shaun was creating a passion that occurred once,
and then, only in a dream.
With both hands she took hold of his manhood. It felt hard,
silky, warm, yet soft. She stroked it with gentle loving
movements, the guided it inside her as Shaun hung over her,
his whole being on fire.
Keeping his weight on his forearms he stretched out on her,
moving rhythmically in slow penetrating strokes. Leah
brought her legs around his hips and squealed with delight
at every rise and fall.
Shaun knew he had reached his height, but waited, as he had
been taught. He felt Leah stiffen. With a shudder he moved
faster and faster inside her as the room rang with the cries
of their first ever release.
Clinging to each other they reached heaven, stayed for ever,
then slowly descended. There was pain. There was ecstasy, a
kind of intoxication. There was delight, and a sudden
" We did it," they both cried, amid tears and laughter, as
they realised they were all right.
Shaun lay on top of Leah's limp body, his head resting
between her breasts. Her lips curved in a smile as he drew a
nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue. Unable
to resist she slowly rotated her hips.
This time there was no gentle beginning. He lifted her up
and thrust deep inside her with slow insistent strokes. For
a moment Leah lay still, held captive by his every move.
Suddenly she caught up the rhythm, braced her feet on the
bed and rose to meet every surge of his body.
Shaun felt his heart race, his body jerking involuntary in
the aftermath of spent passion. He rolled off Leah and fell
asleep with a contentment he had never known.
When her heartbeat settled Leah looked at Shaun, stroked his
forehead and broke into a fit of uncontrollable crying. She
felt suddenly, indescribably female. At last a complete
Leah awake before Shaun in the morning felt happy with a
warm, inner glow. She felt the soft waves of a now gently
remembered passion. The landlady brought in the early
morning tea, laid the tray on the bedside table and smiled
at the animated Leah, still glowing as only physical passion
can make a woman glow.
They left Bunratty and drove towards Galway. The strength
and wildness of timeless Connemara fascinated them. In a pub
at Clew Bay, many of the Maclaren clan awaited them. All
eager to shake the hand of Shaun, author of 'The Spirits of
Parallel' grandson of Angus Maclaren.
Many had tales to tell, most handed down, of the wildness of
his grandfather, before leaving the old country. They were
taken to a tumble-down cottage, where some said Angus was
Shaun saw the Twelve Pins, he remembered seeing in a
photograph, and felt that this lush green land and
good-natured people were part of his heritage, and as he sat
with Leah in front of the fire, he wondered if it was this
land, the land of the Leprechaun that had made him write the