Princess Farryn Brightheart, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of the Highwood Elves, clapped her hands giddily at the sight of herself in the mirror, before sighing happily as her thoughts melted away into romantic daydreaming. It was an oddly girlish, frivolous gesture for the future queen, but she saw no reason to restrain herself. It was, after all, her wedding day, and she looked radiant. Her beautiful veil and long, flowing, white dress was everything every little girl dreamed of. Farryn smiled at the thought. She’d never been that kind of girl, of course. She’d taken more to hunting and swordsmanship than any of the more feminine pursuits a normal elf princess might have been interested in. How things had changed! Now, all of that seemed just a distant, rapidly fading memory. Farryn might have been something of a tomboy, once but that had all changed when she’d met Elisande.

Elisande’s arrival at the palace had caused quite a stir, in more ways than one. Many had come seeking Farryn’s hand in marriage, of course, but a human? That was virtually unheard of. Nobody would have guessed that Farryn, a proud, noble elf, would have chosen her - least of all herself. But from the very first meeting, she’d known. It was true love. Since then, her days had passed in a lovestruck haze. Things like hunting and politics no longer seemed so important to her. She found herself sleepwalking through each day, looking forward to nothing but her next night spent with her beloved. Strangely, she never seemed to remember much of their time together - but that didn’t matter. She knew it was simply blissful. Elisande made her so happy, in fact, that Farryn had become quite absent-minded. People told her that she’d changed. That she’d become forgetful, distant, and far, far more feminine. Farryn blew off their concerns with a laugh. Love changes people. It was sad that they didn’t understand that.

The one thing Farryn had needed to be truly firm on, though, was making sure none of them came between her and her bride. As much as it pained her to admit it, her fellow elves could be very arrogant, and terribly small-minded. To them, the idea of their crown princess marrying a mere human was a scandal. The rumors, the pointed comments, the disgusted looks - they were incessant. Some even whispered that Elisande had placed her under some kind of enchantment. Farryn had used the full weight of her royal authority to try and stamp out that kind of talk, but she’d discovered you could no sooner stop rumors than you could stop the wind or the rain. Fortunately, Elisande seemed to rise above it all with ease. Farryn’s bride was clever, willful and formidable. Nothing could stop her, and nothing could stop the two of them enjoying their wedding day.

With that happy thought fixed firmly in her mind, Farryn started idly looking over some of the lovely wedding gifts her courtiers and relatives had presented her with. It was then that she noticed something strange; something that had escaped her notice before. Amongst all the gifts was a small scroll, tucked away discreetly. Seized by a sudden curiosity, Farryn reached for it, and unfurled it in her hands. The words on the scroll were written in an oddly familiar hand, although not one Farryn could place.

‘This is a lie’, they said. ‘The human has you under her spell. Remember. Remember the truth.’

Farryn threw the scroll down in disgust. What a horrible trick to play on her on her wedding day. The elven princess crossed her arms petulantly. She refused to let some small-minded courtier ruin the best day of her life. But… what did they mean exactly? Remember? Remember what? She ought to ignore it, but recently, Farryn often felt like she was forgetting something. Minutes passed, and her sense of unease only grew. What was she forgetting? Was it something about Elisande? Farryn felt horrible for having any doubts at all about her beloved, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite shake them. Perhaps it was something Elisande had said to her. But what? Come to think of it, Farryn realized she could barely remember anything that Elisande had ever said to her. Wasn’t that strange? She was sure they’d had all kinds of long, intense, private conversations, but when she tried to remember then, all that came to mind was a vivid mental picture of Elisande’s deep, purple eyes. Everything else was absent.

Unsettled, Farryn tried to think back further. How had they met? She remembered Elisande arriving at the palace late one night, seeking an urgent audience. And then… what? They had fallen in love, obviously. But… why? How? What had Elisande needed to see her about so urgently? She couldn’t remember. Maybe that wasn’t surprising. It was… how long ago had it been exactly? Weeks? Months? That, too, was elusive. The radiant smile was fast fading from Farryn’s face, replaced by a look of concern. The more she tried to think back, the more black voids seemed to be opening up in the memories. How could she have forgotten so much? Suddenly, the message imploring her to remember seemed far less cruel, and far more urgent. When had they decided to get married? When had she set aside her armor and hunting garb for all the pretty skirts and dresses she now wore? What disturbed her most was that she couldn’t seem to remember deciding any of those things. They simply seemed to have happened. How had her own life slipped so far out of her own memory and control?

“Lost in thought, my love?” Farryn almost jumped out of her own skin at the voice. She wheeled, only to find herself face to face with her bride, Elisande. “You didn’t seem to hear me come in.”

Automatically, Farryn broke into a broad, warm smile at the sight of her love. Elisande was so beautiful, and having lived amongst elven nobility her entire life, Farryn found her human bride’s beauty strange and exotic. Hers was a far cry from the tall, willowy body of most elves. Elisande was much shorter, but she always seemed to take up more space in the room than any elf. She had the kind of voluptuous curves Farryn could only have dreamt of before, and she was utterly unashamed of showing them off. Her hair was a long, thick, black mane, and her preference for dark, sensual clothing made her stand out scandalously in a palace full of haughty, conservative elf nobles. Her wedding dress was a counterpart of Farryn’s but it was a deep, rich purple in color, it was far lower cut to accentuate Elisande’s incredible breasts - Farryn, by contrast, was almost completely flat-chested. Farryn had always loved her bride’s boldness and raw sensuality, but now, as she looked at her, the elf princess found herself feeling unsettled somehow.

“I… m-my love, you shouldn’t be here,” Farryn protested uncertainly. All of a sudden she was nauseous, as if she was on the verge of panic. Elisande’s presence had only made her uneasiness worse. Why couldn’t she remember anything? “I-it’s before the wedding.”

“Oh, I know,” Elisande waved a hand dismissively. “Your elf traditions, right? But I thought I’d better come take a look at you, to make sure you’re OK. Clearly, I made the right choice. What’s wrong, my love?”

“Oh… it’s… I don’t know.” Farryn had no idea how to put what she was feeling into words, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She had been seized with the need to escape. But why would she want to escape her wife-to-be? “I’m… I’m fine, please don’t worry.”

“Plainly, you’re not.” Elisande cocked her head and stared at Farryn intently. “What’s the matter? Tell me.”

Farryn turned away. She found herself looking once more at her own reflection in the full-length mirror in her chamber. It didn’t make her happy anymore. It just made her head throb. It seemed so wrong, all of a sudden. “By the gods, what am I wearing?” she murmured to herself.

Elisande heard her. “Oh? How interesting. Is it wearing off? Are you remembering?”

“R-remembering what?” Farryn asked slowly, even though she got the sense Elisande was really only talking to herself.

“Oh, come on!” Farryn turned back around, only to find that Elisande was now standing close to her. Too close. “You can do it, princess. I’m sure you can.” Elisande sounded cruel now, crueler than Farryn had ever known her to be. “Tell me what’s going through that pretty little head of yours. Don’t you love me?”

“Of course I do!” Farryn’s response was instant and automatic, despite her confusion. “I love you more than the moon and the stars! I adore you! You’re going to make me the happiest king in the-” Farryn frowned. Her head felt like it was about to split in two. “King? No, that’s… I meant queen. N-no, I didn’t. I… I…” Suddenly, it all snapped into place, and the truth hit Farryn with the force of a landslide. “ No! This is a lie! This is all wrong!”

“Ah, there it is,” Elisande said, with a wicked smile on her face. “Well done. It’s been a while, prince.”

Farryn remembered now. He wasn’t a princess - he was a prince. A man, not a girl. It seemed absurd to have forgotten something so fundamental, and yet he had. How? It must have been some kind of enchantment, but Farryn was far too preoccupied with the sheer impossibility of it to speculate about the specific method. He’d truly believed, with all his heart, that he was a girl. He’d forgotten his old life as a boy, except for a few errant traces. He hadn’t suspected a thing. And he’d lived like that for weeks, maybe longer.

“H-how?” he breathed in shock.

“How?” Elisadne seemed amused by the question. “You elves think you’re so much better than anyone else, but the truth is, sometimes you can be just as weak-willed as all the rest of us.”

“But… but…”

Once more, Farryn looked at his own reflection in the mirror, and was met with a churning mixture of complicated feelings. The sight of himself in a dress was shocking, and yet… he liked it. That must be part of what Elisadne had done to him, he quickly decided. And surely, there was no way that without her, he ever could have looked so pretty. He’d always had a feminine figure, even by the standards of elves, but to look at him now, no-one would ever have guessed he was anything but a princess.

Even more troubling was the way Elisande seemed to have twisted his mind. As a less-than-masculine-looking boy, Farryn had devoted himself to manliest pursuits he could find in order to prove himself, but now, all of those things felt faint and hollow. Dresses, makeup, pretty clothing - those were now the things that seemed vivid and exciting. And the thought of being Elisadne’s bride made him want to dance with joy. He remembered everything, yes, but now his heart was at war with his head.

“Why? Is that the next question?” Elisadne laughed wickedly at Farryn’s confusion. “That’s the obvious part. Power. I’ve always wanted a kingdom, you see. Oh, sure, you’ll be the queen, and I merely your consort - but I’ll have you wrapped so tightly around my little finger, it will hardly matter. I had to make you a girl, of course. I couldn’t stand it any other way.”

“You’ll never get away with it!” Farryn cried, aghast.

“Won’t I?” A sinister flint appeared in Elisande’s eye. “And how will you stop me?”

“I… I’ll call the guards!” Farryn answered, with confidence he didn’t really feel. “They obey me, not you. I’ll have them throw you in the cells!”

“No,” Elisande said, sharply. “You won’t.”

Farryn had just been mustering his voice to cry out for the guards, but his breath left his lungs in a silent gasp as if in obedience to Elisande’s words. He couldn’t scream.

“What?” Though he was far shorter than Elisadne, the feminized elf prince suddenly felt very small and powerless. “Why can’t I-”

“Because, Farryn,” Elisande interrupted, “you want to be a good girl, don’t you?”

Farryn moaned. A moment later, after he realized what he’d done, he froze - or at least he tried to. His body seemed to have other ideas. The noble, dignified elf prince found himself shivering, every inch of him suddenly ablaze with need. It was all he could do to stop himself falling to his knees. His mind threatened to go blank, and he had to fight to hold on to his thoughts.

“Yes, I thought so,” Elisande continued sadistically. “You want to be a good girl, don’t you, Farryn?”

“Y-y-y… hng!” With her second use of the phrase ‘good girl’, the effect was redoubled. Farryn had to reach out to a nearby piece of furniture to steady himself. “N-no! I’m not a g-girl!”

“Aren’t you?” Elisande giggled. “But my love, you make such a very pretty, pretty princess.”

“I’m not your love!” Farryn snapped.

Elisande just grinned. “Oh? Don’t you love me, my princess?”

Farryn relaxed. A gentle bliss swept through his mind, and a broad, absent grin settled on his effeminate face. “Oh yes, of course!” he said, in a sickly-sweet, high-pitched voice. “I love you so very much, my beloved! I worship the ground you walk on! You’re my treasure, my… my… w-what?”

“Thank you so much, darling.” Elisande’s words were just as insincere as the smile on her face.

“No… no!” Farryn shivered again, this time from fear. His mind wasn’t his own. He felt utterly powerless.

“Yes.” Elisande started advancing on Farryn. He retreated unsteadily, until his back was pressed up against the wall. Elisadne continued, though, until her body was mere inches from his. “You’re mine, princess. I just need to remind you of that.”

“N… N…” Farryn wanted to be defiant. But what could he say? The way Elisande had toyed with his mind so effortlessly had left his head spinning.

“Come on, my beloved.” Elisande’s voice was soft and gentle now, like she was offering him a way out. A way to set down his burdens. She looked up at him. “All you have to do is look into my eyes.”

“I-I won’t!” Complying with her felt as natural as breathing, but Farryn fought that urge as hard as he could. It was hard, when she was so close to him, but he forced himself to look anywhere but at her.

“Darling.” Elisande sighed. “Yes. You will.”

Elisande reached out and slowly ran a fingertip up Farryn’s torso. One fingertip. That was all. But it was enough to melt Farryn into a puddle. Her touch was warmth, magic, love, comfort - it was everything. Farryn felt as though she was caressing his very soul. He froze, shuddering, reduced to a mere puppet held taut on his strings. How could one touch feel as devastating as a lightning bolt?

“Oh?” Elisande mocked, her deep, rich voice sounding as arrogant as any elf’s. “Where’s that defiance now, princess?”

“I’m not a… I’m not- ah!”

Farryn moaned as Elisande idly drew her fingertip across his chest, lingering on each of his nipples. There, he was unbelievably, shockingly sensitive. The pleasure was mind-melting. Farryn was dismayed at how soft and pleasurable his chest felt, even as he fought not to giggle in delight at how feminine it was. The sweet, docile, princess persona Elisande had put into his head was still there, threatening to take back control at each and every moment. Maybe it was truly hopeless. Maybe she’d already won, already remolded him in her own image. Even his moans sounded like a girl’s.

“Shh,” Elisandes soothed. Her fingertip continued its journey up, up along Farryn’s neck to caress the side of his face. “Just… look.”

She applied only the slightest bit of pressure, but it was enough. Farryn was incapable of resistance. With a single fingertip, Elisande used her gentle touch to pose him like a helpless doll, until he was staring straight into her face. For a few moments more, he was able to hold out, keeping his eyes trained over her head onto the far wall, but it wasn’t long before his gaze was drawn inexorably to her huge, deep, purple eyes, and from the moment he looked into them, he was lost.

“Good girl,” Elisande murmured. This time, Farryn didn’t shiver. Her praise felt good, but he was too transfixed to move a single muscle. Her eyes held him. They were infinitely deep, so deep he couldn’t seem to focus on them properly. His eyes relaxed, exhausted from the attempt, becoming wide and dull as the rest of his body slumped. He had no energy with which to muster a retort.

“That’s better,” Elisande commented, smiling. “You see? You can’t fight me, Farryn.”

“Mmnn,” Farryn mumbled incoherently, his mouth hanging open in a twisted, lopsided grin. He knew what was happening to him, but he couldn’t fight it. He wished it felt unpleasant, but in truth, it felt wonderful. His head was in the clouds. His body was weightless. It was impossible to feel bad whenever everything seemed so light and effortless.

“Say it,” Elisadne prompted. “You can’t fight me.”

“I… can’t… fight… you.” Farryn didn’t mean to say it, exactly, but it would have been so, so exhausting to fight, and Elisande’s beautiful, enchanting eyes were draining all his strength.

“You can’t resist me.”

“I… can’t… resist… you.” As Farryn said it, it started to feel more and more true.

“You love me, and you’ll do everything I say.”

“I… love you!” The words burst out of Farryn in a girlish titter. It made him feel so happy to confess his love. His dopey smile broadened. “I’ll do… everything… everything you say.”

“Wonderful,” Elisande purred. She drew her fingertip under his chin. “You’re a very good, obedient girl.”

“I’m… I’m a good… obedient… um… mmnn.” Farryn’s brow furrowed as his bliss was pierced by anxiety. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. It wasn’t right.

“Oh… shush, my beloved.” At Elisande’s urging, Farryn fell silent. He smiled, grateful she wasn’t pushing him any further. “You poor thing,” she simpered. “So confused. You think you’re a boy, don’t you?”

Farryn nodded slowly as memories flitted through his mind. He remembered it all now - although not as clearly as he had done a couple of minutes before.

“I think so,” Elisande said condescendingly. “But, why don’t you just look down and tell me what you’re wearing, my pretty little thing.”

Farryn obeyed. “A dress.”

“A dress,” Elisande agreed. “And do boys wear dresses? Or do girls?”

Farryn’s voice faltered. “G-girls.”

“That’s right,” Elisande said brightly. “Girls. Girls wear dresses. You’re wearing a dress. That means you’re a girl, doesn’t it?”

“I… I…” Farryn whimpered. He didn’t want to think about it. Thinking was hard.

“Hmmm.” Elisande pursed her lips. “You really are confused.”

Elisande reached down and lifted the hem of Farryn’s wedding dress. Until that very moment, he hadn’t realized he was wearing nothing underneath but a pair of frilly panties.

“Hold this,” Elisande instructed, offering the hem of his dress to him. He held it obediently, allowing Elisande to pull down his panties. He should have been embarrassed at wearing such girly underwear, but he was too deeply entranced for that.

Once the human pulled down his panties, Farryn realized he was wearing something underneath them. Something hard and cold. It was a chastity cage. Despite the spell Elisande had him under, Farryn paled. Why was he wearing that? And how had he been so totally unaware of it? Why would Elisande force him to wear such a device? When was the last time he’d been unlocked from it?

“W-w-why?” was the closest the elf prince could come to articulating any of those questions.

“Because,” Elisande explained, as she produced a small key and busied herself unlocking Farryn’s cage. “It wouldn’t do to have a princess walking around with her cute little clit unlocked, would it?”

Farryn shook his head in instinctive agreement. Her words made little sense to him, but they felt right. Their truth had been ingrained into him.

“Besides,” Elisande continued. “It keeps you weak.”

“W-weak?”

“Weak to pleasure.” Elisande set the cage aside, and put her hand on Farryn’s cock. He moaned, far louder than before. In an instant, he was hard, and panting with need. He still couldn’t remember how long she’d kept him in chastity, but clearly, it had been a long time. He felt unbearably needy. “You’re weak to pleasure, aren’t you?”

“W-w-weak…” Farryn moaned. Fighting was now the furthest thing from the entranced prince’s mind. All independent thought had been obliterated by the feeling of Elisande’s soft hand, slowly stroking his cock. “W-weak to pleasure.”

“Weak to me.” Elisande rewarded his obedience by stroking him a little faster, a little harder, bringing his moans to a new peak.

“Weak… to… you,” Farryn moaned, eager for more.

“Yes, weak to me.” Elisande increased her pace a little more. Farryn could barely stay standing. He was already at the brink of orgasm. It had been so long since he’d had any relief. “Helpless to me.”

“H-helplesssss,” Farryn babbled, squirming. Elisande smirked.

“That’s right, my pretty little princess. You’re weak and helpless, and you’ll do anything I say.” Farryn nodded eagerly. Anything to please his beloved. “But you’re so, so confused, you poor thing. I know it’s so hard to accept what I’m telling you. That’s why I’m going to make it much, much easier. You like it when things are easy, don’t you, my love?”

Farryn nodded furiously. He felt like he was going crazy. The pleasure was incredible, the pressure to cum irresistible. And yet, he couldn’t. He was bucking his hips like a wanton slut, but Elisande seemed to know exactly how to touch him to keep him on the edge without letting him slip over. 

“I want you to imagine something for me,” Elisande said. Farryn was hanging mindlessly on her every word. Her eyes kept him spellbound. “All those annoying, frustrating memories you’ve got buzzing around in that pretty little head of yours? All that pesky masculinity I’ve worked so hard to train out of you? All that silly free will you don’t need anymore? I want you to imagine all of that, building inside you. And, in a few moments, when I let you cum, I want you to imagine all of that just forcing its way out of you. Gone, forever. Understand?”

Farryn nodded, slowly this time. It was a lot to wrap his poor, mind control-addled, pleasure-fried head around.

“Visualize it,” Elisande urged. “Do it for me, my love.”

Farryn nodded and moaned once more. He was finding it easier and easier to imagine. With Elisande so skillfully stroking his cock, he was entirely under her thrall.

“You see? I’m making it so easy for you,” Elisande whispered seductively. “You don’t have to figure anything out. You don’t have to decide anything. I’m just going to make this happen to you. You can’t fight it. You can’t stop it. You’re weak for me. Helpless to me.”

“H-h-helpless,” Farryn whined. He was so close. He’d do anything. Whatever his bride wanted. He’d be anything and anyone she wanted him to be.

“Good,” Elisande purred, pressing herself into his body and setting him ablaze with fresh need. “Ready? Three… two… one… cum!”

At the very last moment, she increased her pace tenfold, jerking Farryn off as fast as she could. He came instantly. Long past the point of holding back, the helpless elf shuddered, his back arching as he let out a long, high-pitched, feminine shriek of perfect, mindless bliss. His cock throbbed as ropes and ropes of pent-up cum shot out of him, coating the stone floor and dripping down his leg. The feeling of finally being allowed to cum was wonderful, but even better was the pure emptiness that accompanied it.

It was just as Elisande had described. He could feel all of his memories, all of his masculinity, and all of his free will being ejected from his body. Memories slipped away - memories of hunting, of fighting, of the clothes he’d worn and the way he’d talked. Femininity rushed in to fill the void. New, false memories blossomed within him, of a new, girlish life. Farryn let it happen. He was weak. Helpless. And his free will was slipping away too. At first, it was disorienting, but more and more everything seemed to fit into place. Farryn was a girl. He’d always been a girl. He was a princess who’d grown up wanting nothing more than to be a pretty, feminine bride to her beloved. And now, she’d found her! Why would she want to think for herself, when she loved Elisande so much? Elisande was her bride. She could trust Elisande. Elisande loved her. Elisande would make all the decisions for her. It was so kind of her beautiful, human bride to decide everything for a helpless elf princess like her!

“So,” Elisande said, once Farryn finally stopped cumming. “How are you doing, my beloved?”

Princess Farryn giggled. “Oh, I’m doing just wonderfully, my love!” Once again, her voice was sickly-sweet and unmistakably feminine. “I think I was just a little bit confused there. I’m so grateful to you for setting me straight!”

“Of course,” Elisande laughed. “I’m just sorry for sending you that awful card in the first place! I just needed to test how your enchantment was holding up.”

“Card?” Farryn blinked. “What card?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.” Farryn nodded, and stopped worrying. “You have more important things to attend to, my dear. Like the fact you’re not wearing your cage!”

“Oh!” Farryn blushed. How rude of her! “I’m so sorry, my love. Let me fix that at once.”

“Yes, you’d better,” Elisande smirked. “Quickly. We have a wedding to attend, my love. And after that… well, after that, I have big plans for your- for my kingdom.”