A knight visits a princess and ends up becoming the new princess instead.

Male to female anthro fox.

Quick story I made to practice male to female TG
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The knight approached the maiden, and bowed down, hands raised.

She came to him simply, her face stony yet obviously amused. “Your reward will come to you now sir knight. Name your self for posterity.”

The knight’s head rose and turned to the woman, his eyes filled with the promise of a prospect. “I am Feonor of Grazca.”

Princess nodded. She approached and made her way right in front of him, arm’s reach. “Rise and claim your reward.”

The knight did as was asked, his armor gleaming and shining. This was the moment his life would change…. But not in the way he expected.

The maiden moved towards the warrior, moving away the armor hands and grabbing onto his torso. She did away with the helmet, raising Feonor’s visor out of the way.

The knight in turn moved his hands to close around her in embrace. But as he did, he felt the woman's delicate fingers though his armor. Wait, didn't he bring armor? How looked down and saw his plate mail turning white and thin, steel becoming silk at his princess’s touch.

“Are you afraid?” said the princess.

“No, not at all,” Feonor replied. He still didn't understand the point of this, but he was. No coward.

The princess simply smiled and grabbed onto his the warrior’s hands, the gauntlet became soft gloves, pink with floral embroidering on its edges. Feonor’s muscular forearms began to resist, their bulk too great, but in the end it was his hands that gave way, seemingly shrinking at the tightening restraints

The princess brought her hands low on Feonor’s rear and down all the way to his thighs. The fabric changed, the metal pants swelled and bloomed as though it was a flower, becoming delicate and covered on pinks. Feonor’s legs grew shorter and more slender through this, as though losing tone from running and marching.

“Is… this all?” Feonor asked, his tone, light and airy.

The princess merely smiled, “Of course not.” she raised a hand and brought it onto the knight’s face. With a single touch on his nose, it became cold and black; it merged with his jaws as it elongated. Bright red fur sprouted around it and Feonor’s eyes turned a savage emerald green.

Feonor looked at himself, seeing the soft and delicate coat growing on him. “But… but why my lady?”

The princess laughter was like merry bells. “No, you are the lady now. You will not need many things in your new position.”

Feonor blinked and tried to understand what that meant. The princess was gone… leaving himself all alone. He didn't understand what the purpose of this was, about what had happened to him. His vulpine eyes widened and then he understood. He was the princess…or rather she.

Feonor decided this was for the best and decided to finish what had already started for after all, she was still half finished. She touched her sides and ruled at her chest, spreading her fur underneath steel that became light purple and pinkish silks. She squealed in joy as tiny delicate mounds formed on her chest. Hardwood experience and training was replaced by feminine grace and poise and soon the former knight no longer knew even the basics of lifting a blade in arms. But that was fine, she'd never fight again if she could.

The fur came up to Feonor’s arms and underneath her gloves. She felt them grow larger as her muscles shriveled away into delicate fat underneath her fur.

She moved to her boots, heavy and made of metal she couldn't walk in. They became delicate and ornate slippers meant for tender feet.

Her tail came from underneath Feonor’s dress and that reminded the warrior of one last thing before taking care of her crown. She pulled up her skirt and saw the large bulge underneath her delicate clothes. At her will, it shrank, her hips realigning as she became able to bear young.

Feonor felt so pleased and then grabbed onto her helmet, the last part of her masculine life. And it shrank and became a gold circlet over her head. Her brownish red hair burst free and braided together.

The princess let out a feminine laugh, a sound so sweet and free. She dashed to her throne, smaller than her mother and father’s, but content with it. She was so glad to be free of that stuff. Although she had to wonder… was there even a princess before her at all? Or was it some apparition? She didn't know, but she wished she could offer thanks.

She leaned back and reclined, feeling herself tired and weary.

But her rest was soon interrupted. “Uh, Princess Feona?” said a knight as he stepped in. “I was told to come here…”

Feona? That name sounded right. Feona left her seat and turned towards the knight. An idea formed in her mind, one involving fine lace and more foxy handmaidens.

She approached the knight and he bowed down in submission. “Rise now sir knight and claim your reward.”