Grand Vizier Jafar of Agrabah, one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the kingdom, could do nothing but pace and fume over that wretched, incompetent failure of a bird and his inability to steal from the worthless street rat. The lamp! He should have recognized at once that the troublesome so-called prince was but a lowly street rat. The same one he had tasked with retrieving the artifact. It was obvious now that the Lamp’s powers were the source of his ridiculous pomp, and also the extravagant wealth displayed upon his arrival, but how was Jafar to have known? Who would have expected some miserable gutter trash to take the guise of a prince? Jafar had seen only in the dark, covered in dirt and dungeon filth. A far cry from the clean-cut princeling who now took up space in the palace.

In a way, this was most fortunate. He thought the Lamp lost when the cave collapsed, yet here it was in the palace itself. An infuriating obstacle, to be sure, but also a source of promise.

If he could but get his hands on it, these foul circumstances would be changed. The servant within would obey whoever held the Lamp, bound to the will of its master. With it, he would finally achieve the power and recognition he so deserved. No longer would he, the most clever and learned of men, be forced to placate the whims of fools.

But how? Guards had searched the room but found nothing. The lamp clearly kept on his person somewhere, but even Jafar’s most trusted guards would refuse to detain a prince so favored by both sultan and populace. The bird too had been sent, but it proved incompetent as the rest. What now? There must be some way to claim that artifact.

From outside the room, the princess’s sharp voice cut through his musings.

How shrill and unbecoming she could be. A sultry beauty like her ought be demure, seductive, a sensual delight for all to see. Or at least the eyes of her husband.

He had been so close, before that street rat intervened. The sultan would have given her to him, and Jafar would have claimed two triumphs in one. First, to become the aging, vulnerable fool of a sultan’s clear successor, but also to gain possession of that delectable princess. Oh, she would have complained and fought, but he’d eagerly anticipated taming her fiery temper.

Jafar was unsure which part he would savor most. The enjoyment of her delightful body upon their marriage bed, or training that proud beauty into a proper wife. Both prospects filled him with equal joy.

All lost, shattered when the street rat’s spectacle offered another option. Never mind that the wealth and power he displayed was but a vacuous construct, a mystical mirage conjured solely to vex Jafar’s plans. It had impressed those dim witted fools on the streets, and gained the sultan’s fickle favor.

His staff clinked loudly against the marble floor as he cursed both headstrong princess and pretender prince, both obstacles to his ambition.

His staff ... That presented some possibilities.

The artifact had served him well before. So many at court were simple of mind and will. Almost too easy to grow in power and prestige. Alas that the princess had proved so stubborn and headstrong. The fascination of the serpent’s eyes would ensnare her as readily as anyone, but accomplish little else. Unlike the pliable fool of a sultan, the princess would easily shake off any suggestions he delivered. Becoming, if anything, more stubbornly set than before. Fearing that she might grow suspicious, Jafar had been forced to halt such trials without a single attempt bearing fruit. In the end, his efforts had delivered naught but bitter frustration.

He wondered, however ... what if she had another outlet for her fierce will? Some source to vent her ire upon?

The beginnings of a plan started to form.

The street rat. Jafar had not yet attempted it. He had no doubt the street rat’s will was too strong for the staff. Or so it would be were the staff held in Jafar’s hand.

The princess, however...

Yes, that filthy pretender of a street rat was helplessly smitten by the delightful princess. The foolish boy would be far more pliant to her will.

He would have to gain her cooperation of course, willing or otherwise, but how to go about it?

What was it that the headstrong princess so despised? Being controlled? No, more than that. Being manipulated. Yes, she had always thrown the most absurd tantrums at even the slightest hint of such, and what lovely deceptions that filthy street rat had played. How well, he wondered, would she respond to such betrayal?

The beginnings of a plan indeed.

Jasmine swept through the palace, her heart carried by a cloud. Though days had passed, her romantic evening with Prince Ali hung fresh and warm over her memory. This was the man she would marry, and Father had finally agreed to allow it!

The announcement would be soon, already arranged and scheduled. She could not wait to find Ali and tell him the good news.

“A word, princess,” said an oozing, noxious voice.

“What do you want, Jafar,” she demanded, turning to face her father’s loathsome advisor.

“Why, to congratulate you on your good news, of course,” he said. “I hear that you are to be wed.”

“Don’t you have other people to bother?” Jasmine said, rebuffing his friendly advances.

“The wedding of the princess is certainly an important matter for the kingdom. It is only natural that those who care should be concerned that it is a proper match.”

“You can keep your concerns,” Jasmine said, stomping her slippered foot. “I love Prince Ali, and we are going to marry, and there is nothing you or anyone else can do about it.”

Jasmine had been hoping to anger him, to see his twisted features grow upset. Perhaps he might even do something that could see him dismissed. Much as Jafar held her father’s confidence, Prince Ali was loved by all. If Jafar tried to stop the union, his favor would surely fall.

Instead, for some reason, the sinister vizier looked amused by her outburst.

“True love is a commendable thing,” he said, “but tell me, princess. Are you certain that he loves you back?”

“Of course he does!”

How could he not after the romantic moments they had shared, the moonlit carpet ride? Not to mention their time together in the marketplace. It bothered her that he had lied about his station, but surely that was a good thing? Most princes would never stoop so low as to dress up like a commoner. Ali was a just and humble prince, as fine a match as she could ever wish.

“But how can you be sure?” he asked, raising his staff close to her face.

Some instinct told Jasmine to turn away, only she no longer wanted to. The eyes were incredibly pretty, sparkling in the lamplight. Almost as if they had begun to glow themselves. The deep, rich color caught her eye, swirling and swirling down as it pulled her mind inward.

“What if the str- prince is lying to you?”

“Lying to me?” Princess Jasmine replied faintly, his voice and hers reaching only from far away as she watched the snake’s eyes glow.

Watched, and listened, and heard what Jafar had to say.

Jafar enjoyed watching the lovely princess fall deeper under his power. Such a beautiful, nubile woman held captivated to his will stoked a tremendous lust within him. It was all Jafar could do not to tear off her clothes and take her where they stood.

He did not dare, not until she was fully his, but so long as he controlled himself that day was at hand.

“A man might say many things, to win the heart of a pretty woman,” said Jafar.

He would know, though it was rarely the heart Jafar had sought. Especially in his own tempestuous youth, when flattery, charm, and empty promises meant that his bed was rarely empty long. This princess would be his greatest challenge, but what a prize she made.

“Ali- is not like that,” Jasmine said sleepily. Deep under the serpent’s spell, but still obstinate.

Though it gratified him deeply to see her succumb to his power, these were the most careful moments. One wrong word might break the spell, driving her away before his plan was complete. Though confusion and disorientation might ease her suspicions some, there was not telling when, or even if he might get another chance.

Fortunately, the princess took to his words even better than expected. How delightful. It seemed she might already be harboring some doubts. All the better for his schemes.

“Can you be sure, Princess? I fear that the prince has approached you under false circumstances.”

“He- he wouldn’t. Not again,” she said.

Oh, so the street rat had already been caught in a lie? How marvelous, though she still believed him a prince. The time had arrived to show her just how lowly this wretched suitor was.

“How painful this must be,” he said sympathetically. “No one ever wishes to be deceived. If only there were some way to test this.”

“Test?” she asked hopefully.

Jafar smiled.

“I do have one idea,” Jafar began carefully. “It is the only way to be sure that the prince is not lying to you.”

“How?”

“First, you must go to him and announce that you and I are to be wed.”

“But I don’t want to marry you,” she said, her voice becoming alarmingly vibrant. “I want Ali!”

“It is but a test,” Jafar soothed her back into complacency. “You will not have to marry me unless this prince should prove himself false.”

Unless. Jafar was priming her mind to accept only two options. Her beloved proved honest, or else accept Jafar as husband. She was so focused on Ali’s fidelity that she did not realize what she agreed to, but her mind would keep it all the same.

Her waking mind would have caught it at once, and even entranced she would normally have rejected it soon after. Faced with her love’s dishonesty, however, her stubborn resistance would not consider the matter until it was far too late.

“A test,” she agreed absently.

“That’s right,” Jafar told her. “A test to see whether your prince speaks truly. You do wish to know if he is a liar, after all.”

“Yes,” she said, “must know.”

“Good, good,” he said, drawing closer, sliding behind.

His arm snaked around front, holding the staff close before her eyes. The other hand rested on her shoulder, touching her smooth, bare skin. Close, so maddeningly close. He could feel the warmth of her body, and the fire inside demanded he grasp her tight and take what he wanted here and now.

No matter. Such premature action would have disastrous consequences, and he had not made it so far without learning to delay his own gratification. He would have her, it was only a matter of waiting.

“Now listen closely, princess, and I will tell you exactly what to do and say.”

Aladdin laid back on the couch, smiling as he rested in the mid-day sun. This was the life! An entire tray of food set out by palace servants. Meats, bread, tasty cheeses and all sorts of sauces and spreads. So much and so filling that he’d actually left half of it untouched. When was the last time he’d had a full stomach, let alone wasted food? Years, at least, and the guards wouldn’t even chase him for it.

He kept expecting to wake up back in the slums, all this just a pleasant dream, but somehow never did. It was all so unreal. Somehow, Princess Jasmine actually cared about him. It was the most magical, unbelievable thing that had ever happened to him. A lifetime of disappointment had taught him to expect happiness to be fleeting, but for now Aladdin felt like the luckiest guy in the whole world.

“Ali” Jasmine called. “Are you there?”

“Jasmine!” he replied. “I’m over here.”

He jumped off the couch, hurriedly sweeping any crumbs away. Was everything in place? Did he look princely? Aladdin felt the comforting weight of the lamp hidden away in his fine hat, a promise that everything would be all right. He had every intention of freeing the genie, but it was comforting to know that the last wish was always there, just in case.

They met at the gardens, just outside his suite. She looked absolutely radiant. The sunlight shone off her face, framing it in golden radiance like an angel of perfection. She was elegant, graceful, filled with a vitality and spirit unlike any woman he had ever known. His lips still could taste her mouth on his. How could they not? The kiss they shared was burned into his memory.

How she could come to love him, he would never know, but his heart was full of love for her.

“Is everything all right?” he asked. There was something odd about her. She was beautiful as ever, but looked distracted almost. Not upset or worried, just ... off.

“Everything is fine,” she said. “Father is going to make an announcement.”

Aladdin looked down. She held something in her hands.

“Jafar’s staff? Why do you have that?”

That treacherous snake. Was he plotting something? Aladdin had never trusted him. There was something about that man, something familiar about him that he couldn’t quite place. Aladdin might not know why it triggered his instincts, but he was no stranger to betrayal and everything in him warned that the vizier was up to no good.

“He was just showing it to me. Why don’t you have a look?”

She thrust the staff towards him, so fast and close that he pulled away. Even so, it was inches from his face, staring straight into his eyes.

Was it glowing?

“Stop,” he said. “Something isn’t right.”

His hand shot up to grab it, instincts warning him away.

“Do you trust me?” Jasmine asked.

Aladdin froze.

“What?”

“Do you trust me,” she said again, more gently.

“Yes,” he said, “absolutely.”

“Then keep looking into the staff. Look deep down for me.”

In any normal circumstance, Aladdin would have been far too quick and canny, but this was Jasmine, the woman he loved with his whole heart. He trusted her completely, and so looked closer. When the pull came, he did not fight it, but instead allowed himself to fall deep under its sway.

“Do you want to hear my big announcement?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, more flatly than usual as he willingly succumbed to the fascination.

The world, the palace, it had all faded from mind. Every sense of self and awareness stripped away by the power of the snakes, until all he saw was their glowing eye and all he could hear was the voice of his beloved, whose words he could trust totally and completely.

“It has been decided. I will marry Jafar.”

“What? No!” this was almost enough of a shock to snap him out of it.

Almost, but not quite. She held the staff in front of his face, holding his mind under her sway even as she soothed away his cares.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “everything will be fine. This doesn’t mean we cannot be together.”

“It doesn’t?” he said dumbly.

“No. A man like Jafar is expected to have many women. If you had some way to become a woman, you could ask to join his harem. Can you do that? Jafar thinks you have a way to do it.”

“ ... don’t want that. Want to marry you.”

“But could you, if you wanted to?”

“I ... yes, but-” he said, not thinking about what it meant to agree, or the implications involved. All he thought of was answering his beloved’s question.

“Tell me.”

“The genie,” he said, still held rapt by the staff. “If I made a wish, he could do it.”

“Like you wished to become a prince?” she said. There was a hardness to her voice, one that should have warned Aladdin if he weren’t beyond such details.

“Yes,” he said, “just like that.”

Jasmine gasped as he admitted the deception. When she spoke again, there was a bitterness to her voice, an angry resolve that had not been present when the conversation started. Aladdin heard all this, but was not aware enough to comprehend.

“This genie. How do you summon him.”

“The lamp.”

“Where is this lamp?” she asked.

“In my hat.”

“Get it out,” she commanded.

“Why?” he asked, even as he obeyed.

“So you can make your wish. To become a beautiful girl.”

“I- no,” he said. “I’m a man. I don’t want to be a girl.”

He blinked, and if it were anyone besides Jasmine asking, this is where it would have ended. Only, it was Jasmine, the one person he loved and trusted most in all the world. With her holding the staff, he could not quite fight out of its influence.

“Why not? I thought you wanted to be with me? Was that a lie too?”

“Of course not,” he protested. “I do want to be with you, more than anything.”

“Then why won’t you make the wish?”

“Because I don’t want to be a woman.”

“You want to be with me, don’t you?”

Jasmine held the staff even closer, more insistently.

“Yes”

“The only way to do that is by becoming a woman.”

“Only way,” Aladdin murmured, completely entranced.

“Then you want to become a woman.”

“Want. to. Become. a woman?”

Aladdin shook his head slightly, but did not deny it.

“You want to become a woman so you can be with me.”

“I want to become a woman so I can be with you,” he repeated flatly.

“You want to become a woman.”

“I want to become a woman.”

Jasmine took the lamp, pushing it into his unresisting hands.

“You will take this lamp and wish to become a beautiful woman.”

“will wish ... become a beautiful woman.”

“Say it again,” she commanded.

“I will wish to become a beautiful woman.”

“Again.”

“I will wish to become a beautiful woman.”

“Good,” Jasmine said, finally removing the staff.

Aladdin blinked, disoriented. He was aware once more of his surroundings, but not fully awake. It still felt as if he were in something of a dream, disconnected from reality.

“Jasmine? What’s going on?”

Why was he holding the lamp all of the sudden. Had he finally told her? Why was his head fuzzy?

“You were just about to make a wish, weren’t you?”

“Oh, right,” Aladdin said.

His hands moved like an automaton, rubbing the lamp. The genie appeared in a flash of light and smoke, clearly annoyed at being called. That bothered Aladdin for some reason, but he was still not thinking clearly.

“You know Al, I’m getting REAL sick of getting called out every time you have a - did I miss something?”

Aladdin knew at once what he was going say. Without thought or contemplation, the notion simply bubbled to the top of his head.

“Genie,” he said at once, “I wish to become a beautiful woman.”

The genie’s jaw dropped. Literally, all the way to the floor. He had to bend down and pick it up in order to speak again.

“Ok, that- was NOT how I expected this to go.”

Aladdin shook his head, confused. Had he really just made that wish? Why did it feel so right. Like it was his own idea, but not really. He just had to do it because ... reasons. Because he wanted to be with Jasmine, but how did that make sense?

The genie shifted, paging through a thick tome while a long white coat formed around him.

“You know, there’s usually a process to this. A few months of therapy, maybe go out in public dressed up once or twice, try out a few veils and see where it goes from there? Anything?

“Come on Al old buddy, work with me here. You’re looking a little under the weather today, are you sure you’re feeling all right? Was it a joke? Ha-ha, very funny, but seriously Al, you gotta speak up. A wish is a wish, you know that, right?”

This was wrong, he didn’t want to be a woman, not really. Only, it was what he had asked for, and something in him insisted that it was necessary. The wish had come so easily, he barely even thought about it. So obvious at the time, but he couldn’t explain why.

“I- I have to,” he said.

He would do anything for Jasmine. Even this.

Only, why would this help Jasmine?

“This doesn’t feel right,” the genie said. “It’s like you’re under some kinda crazy voodoo spell here. Snap out of it!”

The genie shifted and flashed between shapes. Appearing briefly as a glassy-eyed green tinged zombie, then into a hunched figure crouched over a bubbling cauldron, before shifting back to normal once more. It had no effect on Aladdin.

“You heard him, djinn,” Jasmine said, “get to it.”

“You too, princess?” he protested, but slowly raised his finger, looking away as if unwilling to watch the effect. “Last chance Al. Gotta speak up now, or it’s all out of my hands. A wish is a wish.”

Swirling blue light shot out from Genie’s finger, enveloping Aladdin completely. He felt the magic course through his body, shifting and changing it rapidly. His ornate, princely robes were suddenly enormous on him, drooping and dragging in comically oversized fashion. The hat fell to the floor, soon replaced by a new weight as long black tresses grew from his head. There was a tingling, twisting feeling as his body and frame pinched and pulled, reshaping itself completely. His crotch felt warm, excited even, but instead of growing like when he and Jasmine cuddled watching fireworks, it began to pull inward. Seconds later it had vanished entirely in a wrenching, but not entirely unpleasant way. Then his insides were moving, shaping themselves inside his body.

Aladdin felt a panging sadness. Not just for what he had lost, but for the future it had cost. He and Jasmine had not gone further than a simple kiss, but he had dreamed of more, and now they would never-

Why had he done this, again?

The changes to his body were complete. That familiar form was gone now, replaced by one of a feminine stranger.

His clothing shifted, all of the baggy looseness gone as it pulled to his new figure. The fit was different, unlike anything he had ever worn. It clung to him in ways a man’s clothing never would. The white garment resembled his princely robes in style and fabric, but that was where the similarities ended. This version was cut tight, as the old one had never been. Cut close to her chest, highlighting cleavage in ways that were new and alarming. There was a divide at the waist, a gap that showed her slim belly, ending in a flowing white skirt.