Yes, but for the moment we stay with Liz as she wakes up

Hours later, after everyone else had left and the sun had started to set, Liz groaned and shifted on the floor, doing her best to get her arms under her. She had the faint taste of dick in her mouth, and was still a bit sore from the violent fucking she had received, but the sensation she felt most strongly was the large amount of cum on and in her body. Though she wasn't awake for most of it, it was obvious that she had been used at least a few times by passing men while she was ****, and the thought of that was both humiliating and incredibly hot for the feminist teacher.

Well, that's another outfit ruined, Liz thought to herself as she slowly opened her eyes, wincing as she realized the setting sun was now at an angle that shone directly into her eyes, Goddammit, what time is it?

She groggily pushed herself to her knees and did her best to fix her outfit into a somewhat presentable state. A hard task considering that even if she wasn't cum-stained there were several rips and tears that she knew weren't there this morning, with the skirt of her dress practically shredded and one strap of her dress having snapped in half. She couldn't even find her underwear, which had been torn off her completely at some point during the **** **** session.

"Inconsiderate little shits," Liz muttered to herself in a hoarse voice as she pulled her dress back up over her now exposed chest and tied the broken strap around her shoulder for a momentary fix, "If men are going to use me all day, they could at the very least not tear up..."

Liz's complaints died in her throat as her gaze fell on the whiteboard behind her. Though not common, this wasn't the first time she had been fucked into unconsciousness in her classroom, and it wasn't unusual to see her lesson plans unceremoniously erased or even written over by male professors, since they didn't understand anything she wrote anyway. No, what made her stop in her tracks was that at some point while she was ****, someone, most likely one of her own students, had written 'HYPOCRITE' in large block letters across the board, with an arrow pointing down to where Liz had been laying on the floor.

When she read it, memories of what happened that afternoon came flooding back into Liz's mind, causing her to recoil in shame and horror. Almost on instinct, she grabbed the dry eraser and furiously wiped away the offending word until the board was completely clean. Then she leaned her back against the board and buried her face in her hands, crying tears of frustration.

It wasn't like she didn't believe in feminism and the idea that women shouldn't be treated as sexbots, at least logically. But there was no logic in sexual desires, and while she didn't want to admit it, nothing turned her on more than being forcibly used and tossed aside like an object. Even now, she was getting a small thrill when she thought about the utterly degrading situation she had been left in all day, and how men had unloaded into and onto her **** body without a care for her feelings in the matter. It was why she hated students like Cassie so much: despite her position and political beliefs, deep down she agreed with them on some level, and she hated herself for it.

But how could she have admitted all of that out loud? In front of her students, no less! Years of hard work and study, of building respect in the feminist community on campus, was now probably down the drain because she lost herself in the pleasure of being **** by a man and couldn't stop herself from blurting out her deepest, darkest desires.

Eventually, Liz collected herself and wiped the tears from her eyes. She collected her papers and books on feminist theory off the floor where they had been pushed aside and knocked down, then went over to the trash can and grabbed her lesson plan and some assignments, which a male professor or teaching assistant had probably thrown in there on the assumption that they were just 'sexbot gibberish'. Once she had everything, she put them in her handbag, which had thankfully not been stolen while she was out cold, slung it over her shoulder, and stumbled her way out of the classroom, her legs still feeling somewhat weak under her.

As she went out into the hall, she nearly ran into the janitor, a tanned dark-haired woman about her age. It wasn't too uncommon to see women cleaning up after men and the orgies that tended to happen around them after they were done, especially as since it was a public service, most men were willing to leave them alone while they did so. Jessica was one of the more dedicated janitors, having worked at the school for almost as long as Liz had been teaching.

"Oh, Liz!" she said, looking rather shocked to see her, "I didn't know you were still here. Long day, I'm guessing?"

"Yes," Liz said with a sigh, "Very long day."

Jessica looked over the teacher's disheveled appearance and frowned, "Are you okay? No offense, but you look terrible, even for being fucked into unconsciousness."

"I'm fine," Liz lied, avoiding the other woman's gaze.

"...Are you sure?" Jessica asked, lowering her voice to a soothing hush,

"Yeah, I'm fine," Liz repeated, a hint of frustration in her voice, "Right now, I just want to go home and take a long, hot, shower."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Jessica said with a laugh. She started to wheel her supply cart past Liz, but stopped and hesitantly added, ""You know you can talk to me if something's wrong, right? I promise I won't say anything to anyone else if you don't want me too."

"Thanks," Liz said, touched by Jessica's obvious concern for her, "But really, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Jessica said, not entirely believing her, "Try not to focus on work tonight, okay? Just clean yourself up and focus on getting some rest if you can. I'll keep an eye out and let you know tomorrow if you forgot anything in there."

"I'd appreciate that," Liz said with a weak smile, "Fair warning though, it was pretty crazy in there today. You'll probably be here all night."

Jessica just laughed again at this, "It wouldn't be the first time. Whatever happened, I can handle it. Stay safe out there."

"You too," Liz said, before walking past her and starting her journey home. As she walked down the hall, she absentmindedly glanced at her right hand and noticed that the two rings she had put on her finger earlier were now gone.

Good riddance, she thought to herself. While she did hope their rightful owner was the person who took them from her rather than some random guy who thought they looked neat, in all honesty she didn't really care as long as she didn't have to hold onto them anymore. As ridiculous as it sounded, Liz felt like they were somehow the cause of everything going wrong today. With them gone, she felt much better about her chances of coming back from her current situation. She just needed to make it home, get herself cleaned up, then email her students and beg them to come to class next week. It would take some convincing, and a bit of reorganizing her lesson plan, but she could probably use today's incident as a jumping off point for a discussion about sexual fantasy vs. reality, or how one's personal desires shouldn't cloud your judgement when it came to fighting for women's rights, or... something like that. Liz wasn't sure how she'd spin it yet, but she had to find some way to justify her desires to her students if she wanted them back. She just hoped they'd be willing to listen to her.

Of course, she had to make it home first, which depending on how busy it was outside could be a challenge in and of itself.