I'm a junior at Princeton and I guess I'm one of the success stories of this beautiful university. Not that I ever expected to be. I didn't even plan to be here, I had signed up for Community College. But my mom thought different...

It was in my senior year of highschool that she found a way to get me a scholarship. Believe me, nothing was ever given in my life, everything was earned. But if there was a way, my mom would find it. As long as it is legal, she may bend the truth a bit, but she would never cross the line.

Spending the first few years of my life in a women's shelter with her after we literally escaped from my abusive father, whose face I can't remember even anymore, thank God. But growing up without a lot of healthy nutrients kept my frame relatively small. Add a lot of cheap take-out food and burgers to that and I wasn't the most lean kid in the school. But I held my own, nobody messed with me. I was a straight B student, haha, I made sure I stayed away from the nerds although I often knew the right answer, I just gave the wrong one.

My mom had two jobs, just so we could live in a tiny apartment and pay our bills. I brought in some as well, shuffling snow in the winter and mowing grass in the summer. It wasn't easy, but together we could handle anything. I was okay with just working at a landscaping company after highschool but she wanted me to go to college. It would get me out of the slump, and maybe, just maybe, I could drag her with me.

So I did my due diligence, signed up for a college not much farther than my highschool, put in my essay and I considered doing the ACT. But their acceptance letter was there already before I took the test so I didn't bother. But even the costs for a local college like that were gruesome. I would have to borrow almost all of it.

That's when my mom explained that she'd put in an application on my behalf at Princeton. I laughed, until I saw the letter that I made it to the top five for one available scholarship, a free run through college. One scholarship, probably to cross off some checkbox, so they could say they supported a transgender student...

It didn't really matter to my mom that I wasn't transgender. "We can work on that" she simply said. But I wasn't allowed to get a haircut anymore. And I had to do some sessions at her job, where they do the hair and fat removal. My little bit of facial hair, that I had worked on since I was seventeen, was gone in five minutes. Nothing to worry about, in a few years it would grow back again. Same for the bit of body hair that she lasered away.

And then the letter came one day that stated that Jasmin was accepted at Princeton. When you have only your mom in life, and she has only you, with so many bad situations the two of you have conquered, and she tells you she always wanted to have a daughter, it wasn't really that tough of a decision.

We had a few months until graduation, and every night I went through a makeover and became Jasmin. My mom taught me things I had no clue that girls did. Simple hygiene, just brushing my hair in different styles, how to sit, how to stand, how to walk, how to talk, how to think, how to laugh, to giggle, to pout, to put on a bra, a skirt, sleep in nighties. Then domestic things, like how to clean, to do laundry, wash windows, cook and start living more healthy. More advanced was walking in heels, doing makeup, yoga, some dancing and talking about dating and female "stuff".

She never called me Josh anymore, unless we were in public, and I found that responding to Jasmin became more natural than responding to Josh. I had to write an essay for Princeton and discuss the problems and fears of a transgender boy becoming a girl. Oh, I had plenty of fears, I aced that subject. And just like that I graduated. I actually managed to scrape an A in a few classes, as Jasmin had no macho attitude to prove.

My mom managed to get a small promotion but had to relocate to a different city, which worked out very well, as I became Jasmin 24/7 in a place where nobody knew me. I even had the paperwork that officially changed my name as that was one of the requirements for the scholarship.

I found a vacation job in the plaza where my mom's new place was, working in a salon. How girly can you become? But we were very straight about it, for four years I would be Jasmin. After that I could switch back or maybe I liked it so much I would stay a girl. At the time I doubted that very much.

I learned a lot, the three months at the salon. As a boy I had always known what girls had pretty eyes. And when I learned how to apply makeup professionally, with all the tricks of the trade, I found I had a true talent in creating eye fashion. They grudgingly let me go for college but I had to promise I'd come back the next summer and maybe during other breaks as well.

And just like that I was on my way to Princeton, probably the only student arriving in a Greyhound bus.

When I arrived and managed to locate my dorm room I met my roommate. And her parents. She was African American, probably another box checked on the Princeton agenda. But she was beautiful and curvy and, as I found out soon, very smart. Her name was Sherida and she knew about me, and she was okay with it.

Her parents were more concerned, I think that's why they were still around. Sherida helped me settle, as we had a common sitting room with a small kitchen and two tiny rooms that just fit a bed. There was a small closet next to the bed for underwear and sleepwear and then some shared furniture between the bedrooms for regular clothes. I only had one suitcase, so there was plenty room for my stuff. She was interested in a few skirts that I had received just in time from some Chinese webshop that had taken two months to arrive, only to find out they didn't fit. I needed to shrink my waistline.

But Sherida tried them and they fit like a glove, looking as sexy on her as it had on the model on the website, something I wanted as everything I have is quite boring. Feel free to borrow them, I told her, I have to work on my figure first. She was very pleased with that and she replied that she would help me with my figure. Then she asked me if I was going to use the empty closet space, if not she was going to use it for her excess stuff, and I could borrow anything I wanted.

That's when I realized she was perhaps not a poor black girl. There were a few unopened suitcases still on her bed and at least four empty ones. Quality clothing came out that we hung in the empty space. There was a large makeup case and when I checked the content I could only approve, it was top quality. Just for fun I asked if I could do her eyes. She hesitated for only a second before she agreed.

Her mom was watching while I worked and she saw the magic appear. The smile on her face told me one of her worries was gone. And when I told her I'd do hers as well she became quite friendly. The three of us chatted while I worked and the dad listened. And even he smiled when his two women both looked gorgeous. He complimented me on my talents.

We went all out for an early dinner. His treat, he said, as payment for my magic. They asked me about my mom, a lovely hardworking woman, my dad, a no gooder that I hardly remember, my youth, tough, and my plans for the future, graduating and finding a good job and buy my mom a decent house. And they really wanted to know about my gender, but didn't dare to ask. So I simply said I was glad highschool was over, so that I finally could come out as a girl. That we moved to a new city, where nobody knew I had ever been a boy. Somehow they seemed to understand and accept me for what I was. Then we found out we lived in the same city...

It's one of these things, where it seemed just too coincidental. But when you think about it maybe the school paired me with a girl from the same state. We only moved cities after I was accepted already. I just wanted nobody to find out. But it was her father that comforted me. Don't worry, he said, putting his hand over mine, if you don't want anyone to know, we won't tell anyone. His wife agreed and Sherida was suddenly holding my other hand. Same goes here, she said.

I've never had people opening up to me. But since I have been acting as a girl, the people at the salon where I worked embraced me and now this whole family did so too. They're also talking about the breaks and how I can drive with them and how I will be welcome in their home. I decided I liked this side of being a girl. And later when they said their goodbyes, they both hugged me as well. I like them, I told my roommate afterwards, and she just nodded with a smile on her face.

We got to know each other better while trying out each other clothes. We weren't all that different in size, length wise the same, her breast were somewhat bigger and the waistline obviously. I shared that because of Princeton I had come out sooner than planned as a full-time girl, which was sort-of the truth. I had still a lot to learn and she would help me.

I could help her as well. Obviously she came from a family with money. But during her time here she was cut off from her credit cards and her bank account looked very much like mine. It would build character, her parents claimed. We probably had to find a job to get something extra. Something I had planned for and I would show her the ropes.

There was no holding back for me anymore, like I did in highschool. And even then, the amount of material I had to take in was enormous. Combine that with power yoga and "the plank" each and every day, and the only thing that kept me going was that Sherida was just as tired. I liked the yoga but all the different plank positions were killing me. But it also killed my belly fat.

We only shared one class together but she managed to get us both accepted in a dancing class, which was a workout by itself. But at least it gave us college credits. I had to do ballet, as a girl, and it brought forth an awkward type of problem. I had been able thus far to tuck my male member away, but in the tights, combined with a series of pretty girls around me, it became harder to control. I wasn't on hormones, I explained to my friend, yet...

She thought she may have a solution, but she was a bit embarrassed about it. When her dad had learned that her roommate "was really a guy" he'd bought a device that she could request her roommate to wear if "things got out of control". Obviously after they got to know me that worry was gone, but she still had it somewhere. She showed me when she found it. A little metal cage, that would lock over my member, tuck it down and back, and it basically would not have chance to get excited as there was no room to grow.

I was going to try it, right in front of her, when she confessed that she'd never seen a male member in real life. She was really embarrassed that she was still a virgin at her age, until I confessed it was the same for me, either as a boy or as a girl. None of the girls ever wanted to hookup with a bad boy like me, some had whispered I was a drug dealer even. I liked the rap so I never denied it. For Sherida it was different, being a black girl in an almost fully white community. And being rich scared off the few colored boys in school that would have tried to hookup with her perhaps otherwise.

We were both relieved to learn such intimate details about each other and we decided that at some point maybe we could help one another. So we started with the cage. I let her put it on me, so she knows at least what a boy looks like down there. It was strangely comfortable to not have to worry about it. In my tights I showed a slight bulge but not more than she had. The discomfort of an upcoming arousal I could handle and it was typically over in seconds.

My original plan was to wear it while exercising and dancing. But soon something changed and I found comfort in wearing it throughout the day, then the evening also, and eventually during the night as well. Every now and then I really had to get out of it and rub one away, but it became less frequent. And when I rubbed it while wearing the cage it became more pleasurable but my body reacted in a different way, not through discomfort anymore in that area.

One night I brought it up to Sherida. By now we were very intimate already together. Walking in the room in our sleepwear or in some lingerie was natural. And watching TV together, we'd sit on the small sofa, casually touching or one's head lying in the other's lap. This night her head was in my lap while we watched a movie. She was just in a matching set of bra and panties but for some reason with stockings and a garter belt, which looked really sexy on her. I was in one of her teddies, although we no longer considered it her's or mine. My waist was greatly improved and I could wear any of her clothes although I sometimes needed a bit of extra padding in the chest area.

So when I explained what was going on and how pleasant it was, in a non-manly way, to feel her head in my lap, she got curious. She freed me from my restriction, which was easy as I never used the lock that had come with it. Then she started to stroke it, trying to get a reaction out of it. I was unconsciously rubbing her breast through her sexy lingerie and we both got aroused. She was amazed how my tiny thing could take such monstrous dimensions. Somehow she had moved my hand from her breast in-between her panties and it got very wet there.

I still don't know what happened from there but suddenly we were kissing, our tongues twisted, her hand pumping my dick and my fingers deep in her pussy. There was no more talking, just moaning. I hadn't orgasmed for a few weeks by now and I could feel I was reaching the point of no return. And she had hit her first high already, just from my fingers. When I sucked on one of her hard nipples she pulled me on top of her and then I was in her. With all the urgency that had been building between us we went very slow as I took her virginity and she took mine. When I finally released in her she came with me and we were both in heaven.

They often say that best friends, which we were by now, should not get sexually involved. But we did, and we only became closer. Sex became a recurring way to spend some quality time. Although we started taking precautions, as we didn't want to end up in a situation like what happened to my mom, when I came in her life. Had we been more experienced we would have realized we did not have a typical relationship, where boy and girl make out and have fun. We were two girls and the fun went much deeper and often penetration was not even involved. We started sleeping together, simply enjoying our bodies fitting together.

There was a frustration though, that we shared, although we experienced it in different ways. I could drive her nuts, simply by sucking her breasts, or teasing her nipples. She failed in that particular area, as my breasts were not real, and likewise I did not get the pleasure out of it like she did. She came up with a solution that put me on a different path than I had planned for. Yet my life seemed so perfect lately that I wanted to invest into making it even better. And so I ended up with breast implants, and I was exactly her size now.

She had paid for it, with approval from her parents. I don't know what she'd told them, if she told the truth of what was going on between her and me, or if she made up a story to help her friend in her transition. I had told my mom about my now girlfriend but she would not find out about the boobjob for quite a while.

The surgery had been much more painful than I had anticipated and it took awhile before the pain was gone. I was heavier on top now and that took a while to get used to. But the first time she put her mouth on my nipple and sucked my breast in, I knew it was all worth it. As did she. Our sex life improved dramatically, after we had deemed it already near perfect. My male member became less involved, or I should really say, it was involved still but not in a penetration way. My body developed a different type of orgasms that were very satisfying and longer lasting and much more like what Sherida experienced. She would suck on my dick, like I would eat out her pussy, but more often it would not get hard at all, yet I would still squirt some fluids. When something good gets replaced by something even better, you don't question it, you just accept and enjoy.

Once and a while she would pump me though, like the old days, getting me hard like a guy and then collect my sperm in a special bag. For the future, she would say.

Apart from sex and workouts and dancing we had our college life going on. Healthy eating payed off but for some reason eating healthy is much more expensive than eating junk. We tried to find a place where we both could make some extra money. I found an interesting arrangement that would have made my mom proud. We could volunteer in the women's shelter, yet the University payed us comparable to what we would have made in a fast food place.

The shelter brought back memories that I didn't even realize I still had. I was so young when I was in a similar place with my mom. Because of me she could not find work until finally another mom would watch me. And on other days my mom would watch her kids. I remember I couldn't stand those other kids but even then I knew when to suck it up.

We saw a similar situation here and Sherida and I started babysitting kids so that their moms could find a job. Thank goodness she had done babysitting before as I was clueless what to do. But we pulled it off and I learned quickly. We found a room in the old building that was halfway decent and started improving it, adding toys and games that we collected by going door to door. We talked with school officials and businesses in the area and then two professors helped us to setup a foundation with enough money to hire a director.

The director was a woman who had fled from her abusive husband and found shelter here with her daughter. The husband was very wealthy and friends with the judge, the prosecutor and the police chief. The woman received no support for herself and just a tiny bit for the child. Crazy that these things were still possible in modern times. But by taking this job she pulled herself together and she was truly good at it. She never forgot about who started it all and thus the childcare unit would always be named "Jas'n'Sheri's".