"I wish you'd become a teenage girl with angel wings," Joe said. "I also wish that you'll find yourself acting, thinking, and feeling like a girl, no matter how much you try not to."
Unable to direct his gaze away from Joe, Reverend Williams couldn't see the changes that set in, but he could certainly feel them. He became significantly shorter, until he was actually looking up at Joe, who was no more than 5'4" tall. At the same time, he could feel his body softening and reshaping - it was simultaneously a rejuvenating and terrifying experience; he was de-aging, wrinkles smoothing out and stiff joints becoming limber again, but at the same time, hips were expanding and waist contracting, curves developing where there shouldn't be any. He could only blink in surprise as long golden-blonde hair spilled into his field of view. His hands, he could tell, were loosening up from their slightly arthritic state, but at the same time, they were becoming slender and delicate. His face was changing now; softening, refining. There was an expanding sensation in his chest, and he didn't need to look to know that he was developing breasts. He wanted to do something, anything to stop this - how could a just God let such an abombinable thing happen? Surely God couldn't support such doings...could He?
Rev. Williams' legs were changing now, becoming longer and shapelier, the varicose veins disappearing. Then it was his buttocks, which first ceased to sag and then slimmed down before rounding out into a shapely feminine behind - everything had changed by now except...there it was, a curious empty feeling down below. He had become a girl for real now. Not a woman, a girl, young and helpless, powerless to stop this nightmare. She was surrounded by a gentle wind, which ruffled and twisted her now baggy three-piece suit; she could feel it changing her clothes. Something was wrapped snug around around her now-empty nether regions; had the hellspawn child dared to put women's underwear on a man of God? And there was a snug feeling around her new breasts; that could only be a bra. She was still covered, but her shirt no longer tucked in at the waist; in fact, it no longer seemed to have a waist, instead seeming to drop loosely downwards. Her pants were gone; there was something brushing her legs just above the knee; but only on the outside; was she wearing a dress!? And her shoes were gone; she stood barefoot on the study floor. Then there was one final change, and she could feel two great feathery things grow from her back; her wings.
Joe looked her over. "You can move now," he said. The former Reverend Williams wanted to lunge at Joe, to snatch away his tool of Satanic power and destroy it before it could work furyher evil, but she couldn't bring herself to attack someone so...cute!? No, she couldn't have just thought that! Turning away from the temptation, she found herself facing the mirror behind the desk; she'd had it installed so that the congregation would feel reassured by the ability to see what went on behind the pastor's desk. Reflected there were Joe...and an angel.
She was about 4'6, small and slender, with a curvy figure and moderate-sized breasts. Her long golden hair was beautifully complemented the snow-white feathers of her wings. She stared.
Joe spoke up. "So," he said, with a slight trace of a smirk, "what's your name?"
"My name," she said, "is Grah... is Grah..." Graham Williams, megachurch pastor, couldn't say her own name. Instead, a new name was working its way up to the top of her head. "I'm Grace," she said resignedly. "Grace Williams."