Backdoor Currents #2: Controlling Him with a Remote 🔥
Submitted by Julia, 29, High School Teacher, Seattle, WA
“It wasn’t the toy. It was the moment he stopped pretending he was in control.”
We’d used plugs before — on me. Marcus was always the one in charge: inserting, holding, watching. That was his rhythm — methodical, quiet, focused. He likes knowing where everything is, physically and emotionally, even in the dark.
But when I picked up the electro plug — cool metal, smooth curve, remote in hand — something shifted. Not just in me. In him.
We didn’t talk about it. We rarely do when we play. But when I opened the box and showed it to him, he paused. Just for a second. A flicker crossed his face. He nodded — casual, like “Sure, if you want” — but I saw his throat move when he swallowed.
I knew.
From Receiver to Controller 🎮
I started slow. A warm shower. A soft towel. Low light. I wanted the moment to feel intentional.
We’d used fingers before, lube before, even a slim plug or two during vaginal sex. But this was different. This time, he was the one receiving — fully.
His body tensed as I worked him open. He tried to relax — but I know him. He wasn’t resisting me. He was resisting the truth: that he was no longer in control.
The plug slid in slow, almost reverent. He gasped as it locked into place. His legs straightened. Toes curled.
I sat back, watching him.
"You okay?"
He nodded, eyes shut. "Yeah. It’s... snug."
Good.
First Pulse ⚡
I let him lie on his stomach, muscles stretched long, breath steadying. He looked beautiful — like a man learning how to surrender.
I picked up the remote.
Click.
His hips twitched. Just a flicker — like he wasn’t sure if it had happened.
Click.
He jerked this time. A small sound slipped out — not pain, not pleasure. Something between.
“You’re okay,” I said — not a question. A fact.
Then I climbed over him and whispered, “You’re mine right now, remember?”
Voltage and Voice 🗣️
He didn’t say much after that.
I nudged the current higher. Just a little. His hands gripped the pillow. His legs shifted.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I told him.
And he didn’t. He stayed. Shaking under me.
Each time I clicked, I watched his body clench — not wild, not erratic, but rhythmic. Beautiful.
He stopped pretending to be okay. Let the moans come. Quiet, then louder. He gave in.
And when I reached between his legs — just once, just a single stroke — he came. Instantly.
His body didn’t know what to do with all that sensation. But I did. I watched. I held him in it.
Aftershock 🌫️
We didn’t speak at first.
I removed the plug gently, washed it in the sink while he lay there, breath slowly returning. When I came back, he looked at me — not with awe, not even gratitude.
With trust.
For the first time, he let me hold him — not just physically, but completely.
And that made me want to cry, just a little. Not because I’d won — but because he’d let me in.
Looking Back 🔍
This wasn’t about an electric plug.
It was about surrender. About the raw, electric truth of what happens when someone lets go — and trusts you to catch them.
The most powerful thing in the room wasn’t the voltage. It was me.
And now, he knows that too.
About the Contributor 💌
Julia Chen (29) teaches high school English in Seattle. She describes herself as “gentle until I’m not” and believes intimacy is more about timing than technique. Her passions include ethical kink, power exchange, and watching her boyfriend lose control — one pulse at a time.
