"... Inert?"

"What does 'inert' even mean in the context of objectification?"

Liz squared her shoulders, and prepared her "lecture mode".

"As it turns out, Cassie, one question leads directly to the other. Men do, as a whole, see women as inert, outside of their casual objectification of women. This means they believe that women cannot move at all outside of a man's actions moving them. For whatever reason, their mind glosses over small movements from women, such as when we stand still and speak, or move an arm. When we are moving vigorously however, such as jogging down the sidewalk, men are not able to perceive us at all. This fact has been instrumental in allowing women to escape oppressive owners for short periods, but it also prompted the legislation that allows men to own women in the first place.

"After all, as far as men can tell, their 'baby makers' can't move on their own, yet somehow end up in places no man would ever put them, namely 'outside the bedroom'. In order to keep track of women and 'ensure they don't get lost,' each of us must be registered to a man so we can be properly 'returned' when 'necessary.'

"It's fortunate that men are at least able to recognize that we can speak, despite not knowing our mouths move. Humanitarian efforts in developed countries have been pushing to recognize the rights of women to 'state their requests and have them heeded by men,' though they often append that with the words 'as reasonable'. Hence, why your owners had you carried into this classroom. A few decades ago, no man would have listened to a woman's request to learn. 'After all,' they would say, 'what's the use of them learning if they can't do anything?' Thoughts like these aren't gone, and it takes effort from each of us to push them back every day, so that the men of the world, selectively, tragically blind as they are, don't drag society back to where women are locked in rooms to keep them from 'mysteriously disappearing' too far. That is the type of objectification we stand against, where just because men can't tell we move, they think of us as lacking all autonomy."

Most of the young women were enraptured by Liz's words. Most of the men in the back, who couldn't be bothered to wait outside until class ended and they "had to carry their women back out" were instead unsettled.

"I know they just do that sometimes, but watching that woman up front appear and disappear? It's creepy." An older man whispered none-too-quietly. Liz guessed by the blush on Megan's face that this was her father.

"I guess, but she's talking about how women get lost all the time. Maybe this is one of those studies about how they teleport or whatever?" The young man next to him was no better, really. Did they think they were being subtle?

Meanwhile, another young man crept up the side of the room until he was next to Veronica's desk, the blonde faithfully taking notes. Leaning down, he actually whispered to the woman, though he was close enough Liz could hear him anyway.

"Hey, V, are you... Having fun? You haven't said anything yet this class, so I can't tell."

"I'm fine, James, really." Veronica snapped as quietly as she could.

"It's just-"

"James," Liz cut the man off. "I do believe we've talked about you interrupting my students before."

The young man jumped and met Liz's eyes, shocked to find her much closer than he remembered.

"Yes, uh, that's right." James stammered out, but Liz watched as he hardened his resolve. "But I'm responsible for making sure she's enjoying herself, right?"

Even though he faded there towards the end, Liz at least gave him a nod. The young man wouldn't see it, of course.

"As her owner, it is your responsibility to help her live her life to the fullest."

Liz's affirmation seemed to galvanize the young man once more.

"So yeah, if she's not having fun, I've gotta help out, right?"

"James, I told you already, I'm fine!" Veronica tried to speak up, but her professor talked over her.

"That is indeed the correct mindset for an owner to have."

"See?" James asked, turning to Veronica once more. "Just let me help if I need to."

At the direct order from her owner, Veronica had to pause for a moment to consider if she needed any help. James took full advantage of her pause.

"I could, uh, well, you always seem to have fun when we fuck, right?" That one question seemed to take nearly all of James' bravado, but its effect on Veronica was instant.

"James!" She hissed out, face bright red. "In the middle of class?!"

"What, I just, it's, uh," the boy sputtered out. He desperately turned away from his suddenly irate property. "The professor wouldn't mind, right?!"

"Not at all," Liz assured. "You do need to make sure she's enjoying herself, and if that means having sex here in the classroom, then that's what you'll have to do."

The students were split between morbid fascination of the deteriorating situation and embarrassment for Veronica, but that wasn't enough to stop James.

"See, it's fine, so let's get to it. You'll feel better." With that, James tugged Veronica up by the arm, the young blonde giving a yelp at the rapid ascent. James didn't even budge, his musculature well trained like most men's by regularly carrying around a woman. "Here, lean over like that, so you can still listen to the professor if you want."

With that, Veronica was bent right over her own desk, brightly blushing face pointed right at her professor. Sure, she could have struggled away; despite what her owner believed, she could move. Still, the professor had said it was okay, and she didn't want to waste what might be her last class.

James popped open the button on her jeans and eased her pants and panties over a full bottom that had many of Liz's students biting their lips. As he set to work, fingering her folds with one hand as the other worked at his own pants, Liz stepped back to continue her lesson.

"I hope that clears up your confusion, Cassie?"

"Huh? Oh, uh," Cassie quickly tore her gaze away from Veronica's prone form. "Right, 'inert'. Um."

A muffled moan from the other side of the room threatened to distract her again, but Cassie pulled through.

"How are men supposed to treat us like we aren't inert if, for all they can tell, we really are? We can't blame them for that."

"We can't blame men for their biological failings, no," Liz readily admitted. "But we don't need to sacrifice our own well-being for their security, particularly when their security would have us all locked in a box and clawing at the wallpaper. Just as women aren't solely a talking vagina, men aren't just a penis and a strong set of limbs, and we are not wrong to expect their actions and behavior to reflect that."

There was a thump of cloth as James' pants and boxers hit the ground around his ankles. In a strange reversal of things, Cassie was the student most involved in Liz's lecture, the rest of the handful of young women either engrossed in Veronica's rather public molestation or averting their eyes from everyone. Even Cassie's eyes were drawn to the scene however when a gasp came from someone watching. Liz suspected it was one of the girls still owned by her father; otherwise, the sight of James lining up his dick with Veronica's now sopping wet lips couldn't have been so shocking.

"Miss, uh, professor," called the older man who couldn't whisper for a damn. "Don't mean to interrupt your, uh, whatever, but I think my Megan wants to watch that other girl. Is it alright if I move her over? I figure she's been curious about what some of the other girls she's talked with have been doing with their owners."

Megan's eyes had blown wide open, her mouth gaping like a fish. The young women around her gave her sympathetic looks, each of them more familiar than they'd like with their owner being a bit too "attentive." Some men, once they thought they knew what their property wanted, wouldn't be deterred from dragging her here or there. In this case though, Liz felt the "kindness" was at least both warranted and appropriate.

"That's perfectly alright. Megan, if you would? James, hold on a moment while Megan... Well, it looks like Megan is going to be repositioned." Liz gestured to the young woman, but Megan couldn't seem to put two words together.

While she sputtered, her father (as was still Liz's best guess) made it to her side. He squatted gamely at the side of her seat, wrapping an arm around the full-figured girl's waist.

"Wait, I- not, that's, unf!" Whatever attempt Megan was making to speak died when her father hefted her onto his shoulder, her breath driven from her lungs as the man stood. In a visibly well-practiced move, with a one hand on her hip and one gripping a thigh, Megan was laid up like a sack of flour.

The next several seconds passed in silence, the rooms tension ratcheting upward as Megan's father carried her over next to Veronica's desk. James had thoughtfully held back as requested, a few fingers gently toying with the blonde's clit to keep her ready. Megan was plopped down on the next desk over, her owner keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder. The curvy brunette met wide eyes with the athletic blonde, their faces flushed to their ears.

"Um-" "Uh..."

"She got a good view?" James asked.

"Yeah, she ought to see fine here, thanks." Megan's father answered for her.

James didn't waste any more time lining up against Veronica's quim and gradually pushing in. The young woman had to muffle a squeal. She was already running hotter than she thought possible under the rapt attention of all her classmates (and most of their owners), used like some object lesson on how a woman is used by her owner. James had used her for sex often enough since her father transferred her ownership a year ago, but that was always in private. She had no idea what he was thinking, just asking the professor if they could fuck right here in class! At this point, Veronica wasn't sure if it was a miracle or a nightmare that the professor wasn't upset by the idea.

Veronica gasped as her owner bottomed out in her needy cunt. The sound seemed to shock Megan back to life, and the brunette woman's head whipped back and forth between Veronica's eyes and James' steadily reappearing dick. As it pushed back in, a barely held moan stole her attention back to the blonde's face. Any thought that tried to form within Megan's head at this absurd situation just seemed to melt out her ears, and from the look on Veronica's face she was experiencing the same, if for different reasons.

Slowly, James pistoned, in and out. Megan watched the muscled play along his arms as he kept a steely grip on Veronica's hips. Perhaps she could've moved away when he was warming her up, but those were the muscles of a man who had experience carrying around his property. As long as James' hands were around the blonde's hips, he had absolute control over her, and Veronica was just along for the ride.

One of James' hands shifted his hand around his property's front as he drew out, fingers tracing down the line of her hip until they found the hood of her button. As he pushed in once more, slow and unyielding, his fingers began rubbing a frantic circle over her clit, and Veronica's eyes rolled back in her head with a squeal. She had never orgasmed so quickly before, but she knew this whole production was about to get worse. God, she was almost glad she probably wouldn't see any of the rest of these people after the auction, this was so embarrassing, so mortifying, so-

"There you go. Now V, just like you like it." James, just like he always did with this great buy at home, sped up his fingers to a manic swipe back and forth as his hips went from gentle strokes to a rampaging jackhammer. The room could barely hear Veronica's squeal change octaves under the clap of James' hips meeting her athletic ass, her previous orgasm washed away under the stronger tide of sensation. It was too much, too sensitive, to exposed, and all she could do was grip the edge of her desk with one hand and fling the other back, reaching out to grab James, to beg him to slow down, to-

Veronica's squeal cut off with a guttural **** as she crested a height she couldn't have imagined, right in front of her classmates and professor. Her questing arm flopped over, somehow landing in Megan's lap, though neither girl was in any state to notice. Shudders wracked the athlete's body until James hilted himself completely within her once more with a quiet moan. They stood there, frozen like a jittery statue, until a voice interrupted the blissful scene.