The Lynching of Grace
by
Jo Turner
The Lynching of Grace
Copyright © 2009 by Jo Turner
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Jo Turner
Published 2009 by Smashwords
Smashwords Edition, November 2009
Smashwords Edition - License Notes
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Visit the author page at: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/joturner
Other books by Jo Turner include:
The Story of OS
The Weak and Fragile-looking
I feel so nervous around him… You always hear girls talk about the walls closing in, about the air being sucked out of the room, about the floor suddenly feeling like it's made of Jello, about feeling like they’re naked in front of the whole school, but it’s true…that’s how you feel when you’re standing a foot away from this man—whose clothes you just want to rip off. You feel all those things and more. That's how Professor Lynch makes you feel—innocent again, like you were back in high school, when crushes were easier—only this is college.
"Come here Miss Johnson, give me your phone," His voice sounds like velvet—as if a sound could have a feel to it, and I would do anything—anything he asked of me. My juices were practically dripping down my thighs at the sound of his voice.
"Come along now; bring me your phone. I'll expect you at my external study class, tonight—at my house—seven sharp. And I expect my new students to be just as prompt as my Teacher's Assistants" I handed over my phone to him and then glanced down—while he entered the directions to get his house— to his brown tweed pants. To the bulge that was there, I was sure there was one.
"Help her will you?" He winked at Grace, my roommate for the last six months, and handed her something. She was a nice girl who had just walked up to me one summer day, at the local burger joint, and said she'd heard that I would soon be needing a new roommate. I was amazed, because I didn't even think that Alice—my then current roommate—had even mentioned her pregnancy to anyone else; she moved the next day and I haven't heard a peep from her since.
Grace scooted me into a dressing room, to the side of the stage, and made me kneel down. She gave me a ketchup packet; only it wasn't. I tore it open, smelled it, and then looked dubiously at her.