What I Found in That College Student’s Backpack

I'm fifty-two years old, but my body doesn't show it. The hours at the gym and the physical work I do as a janitor have kept me in shape all this time. Defined arms, broad shoulders from carrying equipment, a solid chest with a little hair that's already gone gray. I'm no bodybuilder, but you can tell I lift weight every day.

My face has the kind of wrinkles that give a man character, gray in my hair, and a trimmed beard with just enough silver to attract more than one young guy. I'm the kind of mature man who makes twenty-year-old college students turn to look when I walk past in uniform, sweaty after hauling boxes through the corridors.

Last semester, right in the middle of exam season, I found an abandoned backpack in the third-floor bathrooms of the Architecture building. It was late, almost nine at night, and the corridors were deserted. I picked it up to take it to lost and found, but curiosity got the better of me.

When I opened it, I saw the usual things: identification with the owner's name, calculus textbooks, notes highlighted in yellow. A diligent student. I rummaged around a little more, trying to find his phone so I could contact him, and then my fingers touched something made of silicone.

I reached all the way to the bottom and pulled out two anal plugs. One small, for beginners. And another much more serious one: black, thick, with a broad base, a little button, and an LED light. Wireless connection.

I stood there in the empty bathroom, the toy in my hand, looking at the kid's identification. Twenty-three years old according to his ID. A formal-looking boy's face in the photograph. And that bastard carried this in his backpack to class. I turned the plug over: it had some weight to it, it was a quality one. That guy really put it inside himself.

All the next day I carried the key to the locker in my pocket. Nobody asked about any backpack all morning, and I started thinking the kid had given up on getting it back, too embarrassed by what he had hidden inside. But at the end of the day, around seven, when I was already putting away the last things from my shift, he showed up.

A young guy. First year, definitely. He couldn't have been more than nineteen. Somewhat long brown hair, horn-rimmed glasses, a gray university sweatshirt, tight jeans. Thin, with the face of a good kid who hadn't quite lost that look yet. He approached the desk with short steps, looking at the floor.

“Excuse me… uh… yesterday… I think I left a backpack,” he said in a low voice, almost a whisper. He was red as a tomato.

I leaned against the desk, crossing my arms and letting my biceps stretch the shirt of my uniform.

“A backpack? What color?”

“Black… with… with a patch from a band,” he stammered, without daring to look at me.

It was him. The owner of the plugs.

“Ah, yes. I found it yesterday in the third-floor bathrooms,” I said slowly, savoring every word. “I checked it to see who it belonged to.”

The kid went pale. His breath caught.

“You… you checked it?”

“Of course. You have to check the identification to find out who it belongs to,” I replied with a smile. “I saw some very… interesting things.”

“Come with me to the janitor's office. I have to verify that the backpack is yours. And that those objects are yours too—you know what I mean, right?”

The kid swallowed hard. I watched his Adam's apple rise and fall.

“I… yes…” he stammered, his cheeks turning from red to nearly purple. “Do I really have to…?”

“It's protocol,” I cut him off, serious, holding his gaze. “If you can't identify the contents, I can't hand it over to you. It could belong to anyone.”

His eyes darted nervously from side to side, checking that nobody was nearby. The lobby was empty.

“Okay,” he finally whispered, lowering his eyes. “Yes… there are personal things.”

“Then follow me,” I ordered, turning away without waiting for an answer.

I started toward the janitor's area at the end of the corridor. I heard his hesitant footsteps behind me, his sneakers dragging a little. The poor kid followed me like a lamb, knowing perfectly well what awaited him inside.

I opened the door to the room, stepped aside, and when he entered, I closed it and locked it. The click of the bolt echoed through the small space. The kid stood still in the middle of the room, his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, trembling slightly.

I took the backpack from the locker and set it on the table. I opened it slowly without taking my eyes off him.

“Besides the textbooks, is there anything personal in there that belongs to you?” I asked with a smile that made it perfectly clear I already knew the answer. “You have to tell me so I can verify that the objects are yours.”

The kid stared at the open backpack as though it were a bomb about to explode.

“Come on, tell me,” I insisted, crossing my arms. “What else is in there?”

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. When he put them back on, he was holding back tears.

“There are… there are two… toys,” he whispered, barely audible.

“Toys? I can't hear you.”

“Two plugs!” he blurted out, almost shouting from sheer embarrassment. He covered his face with his hands. “Fuck, there, okay? There are two anal plugs in my backpack.”

“Uh-huh. And why do you bring them to class?”

“Sometimes I put it in… before coming,” he let out in a muffled sob. “The small one. The big one is for home.”

“Then why do you bring the big one to the university?”

“Because sometimes, after class, I go meet people I know through an app,” he confessed, sinking even deeper. “And if the guy seems promising, I use it beforehand so I'm ready.”

The humiliation on his face was complete.

“So you come to class with your ass open, do you?” I summarized, enjoying every second. “Sitting there in the classrooms, taking notes, with a plug inside you.”

“Yes,” he whispered, defeated.

“And the big black one, the one with the little light?”

He shuddered when he heard me describe it.

“That one vibrates. I connect it to my phone and can control it myself or give someone else control. A guy I met made me wear it in the library and activated it whenever he felt like it. I had to endure it without making a sound.”

The kid was still hanging his head, destroyed by shame, when his eyes drifted downward. Toward my crotch. I was completely hard beneath my uniform trousers, impossible to hide, the bulge showing against the dark-blue fabric.

He froze, staring at it. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“I… I can use them,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “In front of you. So you can see they're mine. To verify that it's my backpack.”

I leaned against the table, making sure he could get a good look at my erection.

“Okay. Do it.”

The kid swallowed and began to undress. His sneakers, his socks, the gray sweatshirt, the white T-shirt. He was thin, pale, hairless, his ribs barely visible, his smooth chest that of a kid who had never set foot in a gym. He undid his jeans with trembling fingers and pulled them down together with his underwear in one motion.

And there he was. Completely naked in front of me. He was only half-hard, small, hanging between a pair of skinny legs with a little light-brown hair. But the best part was his ass: small, round, tight, two white, soft cheeks practically begging to be spread open.

He reached into the backpack and pulled out the small plug, the metal one.

“No,” I ordered. “Use the big one. The black one. The one that vibrates.”

He turned toward me with his eyes wide open.

“But… that one's really…”

“I said the big one.”

He stood still for a few seconds. Then he nodded slowly and reached inside again. He took out the black plug and held it, looking at it in terror.

“Do you have lubricant?”

“Yes… in the side pocket.”

He took the bottle, but before opening it he brought the plug to his mouth. He began licking it slowly, running his tongue over the silicone, his eyes half-closed, his expression shifting from pure terror to something more surrendered. Then he wet two fingers, leaned forward, and began inserting his index finger.

At first he was timid, biting his lip and trembling. But when the second finger went in, a low moan escaped him that he couldn't hold back.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, eyes closed.

He wasn't embarrassed anymore. He was aroused. He applied lubricant and put them inside himself again, this time with more urgency, slowly opening himself. He was already completely hard, dripping onto the floor.

“You like it, huh?” I said, lowering my zipper.

“Yes,” he admitted without thinking, his voice hoarse. “I love it.”

I pulled myself out and began stroking slowly, watching the kid open himself for me. He turned his back to me, placing his hands on the table, picked up the large plug, and applied more lubricant. He brought the tip behind him and began to push.

“Fuck… fuck…” he moaned as the tip began to enter. His body resisted at first, but he kept pushing.

“Put it all the way in,” I ordered.

The plug sank to the base in one motion and the kid let out a muffled cry, arching his back. He stayed there, trembling, with the toy fully inside him. Only the black base showed between his cheeks.

“I've got it all in…” he moaned, looking at me over his shoulder with glassy eyes.

He slowly straightened and picked up his phone with clumsy fingers. He opened the app, tapped the option to share control, and a code appeared on the screen.

“Scan this,” he said breathlessly, holding it with both hands. “Then you'll be able to control it. Download the app.”

The plug was vibrating inside him on the low setting. I took out my phone and began downloading the application. The bar moved slowly while I kept stroking myself with my other hand.

The kid couldn't take it anymore. He dropped to his knees in front of me and grabbed me around the waist. He looked up at me with those desperate eyes, his glasses slightly crooked, his mouth half-open.

“Please…” he sighed.

And he lunged straight at me. His hot mouth enveloped me at once and he began sucking with brutal enthusiasm, not very skillfully but with savage hunger. Saliva dripped from his chin. It was obvious this wasn't his first time.

“Fuck, you're such a slut…” I growled, grabbing his brown hair.

He answered by taking me deeper, gagging a little but not stopping. Then he began to move: his hips rocking, his ass tightening and releasing around the plug, forcing it to move inside him, as though he were fucking himself with the toy while sucking me.

I grabbed his hair hard and pulled back, yanking myself out of his mouth.

“Lick them properly,” I growled. “If you want what's inside, you earn it first.”

The kid moaned and began licking obediently, his hot tongue moving over every crease.

“I'm not going to come yet,” I warned him, watching the screen. “Once this finishes installing, we'll see.”

His own erection kept dripping, forming a sticky puddle on the floor.

***

The download finished. I opened the application, found the scan option, and aimed the camera at the screen the kid was still holding with a trembling hand. Connected. The controls appeared: intensity, patterns, music mode.

I tapped music mode and chose a song from my library, a heavy track with a hard-driving beat. I hit play. The plug began vibrating to the rhythm of the drums and guitar.

“Fuck!” the kid shouted, arching his back violently. His legs trembled, and he nearly lost his balance on his knees.

The vibrations changed intensity with every beat, every riff. His body contracted uncontrollably around the toy.

“Now,” I growled.

I grabbed his head with both hands and shoved it all the way down his throat in one thrust. I began using his mouth without mercy, moving in and out, forcing him to swallow me whole every time. His nose bumped against my gray chest hair, and saliva ran down his chin.

He tried to breathe between thrusts, but could barely manage it. His glasses slipped crookedly. His hands gripped my thighs, trying to hold on, but he didn't push me away. He let me. Meanwhile, the plug vibrated savagely to the music, every change in intensity making him tremble and moan into me.

“Swallow it…” I growled, thrusting harder, deeper.

His throat contracted around the head of my cock. He was choking, but he didn't pull away. Tears began falling down his cheeks, mixing with the saliva running down his neck.

The song continued, the drums sped up, and the plug vibrated harder. The kid moaned desperately, ruined between my cock and the toy torturing him inside. His own erection dripped nonstop, on the verge of exploding without anyone touching it.

The guitar solo drove the vibrations inside him wild. He screamed into me, arching his back. And I came. I buried myself to the back of his throat and spilled in hot jets, one after another. He choked, trying to swallow, but it was too much; some leaked from the corners of his mouth. He coughed without pulling away, swallowing what he could.

“That's it… good boy…” I sighed, giving him the last slow thrusts.

When I was finished, I let go of his hair. He remained on his knees, coughing, his glasses crooked, his eyes glassy. The plug was still vibrating inside his ass. His own erection, hard as a rock, dripped on the verge of bursting.

I grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet.

“Come on, turn around.”

The kid obeyed immediately. I pushed him toward the table and forced him to bend over it, his chest pressed against the cold wood, his arms extended, his ass sticking up. He let himself be used completely. He tried to reach for his erection, and I slapped his hand away.

“You don't come with your hand,” I growled. “You come from your ass, or you don't come at all.”

He tried again. Another slap.

“Please…” he sobbed, moving his ass in the air.

I opened the backpack and took out a condom. I tore the wrapper open with my teeth and put it on. I grabbed the base of the toy and began pulling it out.

“Oooh… fuck…” he moaned as the plug came out slowly, inch by inch. His body resisted letting it go.

It came out completely. His entrance remained open, dilated, pulsing in the air. I dropped the plug on the floor, where it continued vibrating against the tiles. I placed the tip at his open entrance.

“Take a deep breath…”

And I thrust all the way inside him. In one motion. To the hilt.

“Fuck!” he cried, arching his back violently. His hands dug into the edge of the table. He gripped me like a glove, hot and tight, still warmed by the vibrations.

“That's it… what a good ass…” I growled, gripping his hips.

He moaned uncontrollably, completely impaled. His erection bounced against his abdomen, swollen and about to burst. I began moving inside him mercilessly. My hips slammed against his ass with every thrust, and the sound of flesh against flesh echoed through the closed room.

“Yes…! Yes…!” he moaned, crushed against the table, drooling onto the wood.

“From now on, you're mine,” I growled in his ear without stopping. “Every day you're going to come here before your first class so I can unload.”

“Y-yes… I'll be yours… whatever you want…” he sobbed, tears falling from his eyes.

I pulled his hair, forcing his head back.

“Say it. Say you're mine.”

“I'm yours!” he shouted. “So you can unload every day!”

“That's what I like…”

I kept thrusting without stopping. His thin body bounced against the table with every blow.

“This ass isn't yours anymore,” I growled. “It's mine. To fuck whenever I feel like it. Before class, between classes, after class. Whenever this old man needs to empty himself, you'll be here waiting.”

“Yes… always…” he panted, surrendering.

“Are you going to let other people touch you?” I asked, spanking him.

“No! Only you!”

“Delete that app,” I ordered, fucking him harder and faster. The table squeaked against the floor. “You don't need to look for anyone anymore. You have me.”

“I'll delete it… I promise… I'll be yours alone…”

I felt everything inside me tense again, heat rising from the base of my spine.

“I'm going to fill you…” I growled.

“Yes! Fill me!” he begged, pushing his ass backward to take me deeper.

Three more thrusts. Four. Five. I exploded inside the condom, buried to the hilt, growling like an animal as I emptied myself completely. He cried out and came without touching himself, his erection shooting jets onto the floor while his body contracted violently around mine, milking me of every last drop.

We stayed there, panting and sweaty, with me still inside him. The plug continued vibrating on the floor. The song had ended a long time ago.

“Starting tomorrow,” I panted, “I want you here at seven thirty. Before your first class. Clean and with the plug in. Understood?”

“Yes… understood…” he whispered, completely wrecked and happy.

I pulled out of him slowly, with a wet sound. I removed the condom and tied it off.

“Get dressed,” I ordered, throwing it in the trash. “But first,” I added, pointing to the plug that was still vibrating on the floor, “put that back in. I don't want it staining your pants.”

He looked at me, his eyes glassy behind his crooked glasses. And he smiled. A smile of total surrender, belonging to someone who had just found his owner.

“Yes, sir,” he said softly.

He bent down to pick up the plug. I switched off the application on my phone and the vibrations stopped. He turned around, placing his hands on the table, and offered me his open ass, still glistening with lubricant. He brought the tip to his entrance, took a deep breath, and began pushing it inside. Slowly, inch by inch. The widest part stretched him; he closed his eyes, bit his lip, and pushed a little farther until it went all the way in and closed around the base, trapping it inside.

He let out a satisfied moan and turned toward me.

“Is this all right, sir?”

“Perfect,” I growled. “Now get dressed. And tomorrow at seven thirty here. Not a minute late.”

He began dressing slowly, the plug firmly in place. When he finished, he looked like any ordinary student. No one would have guessed he was wearing a toy inside and had just become the personal outlet of a fifty-two-year-old janitor.