Chapter Text
How did Morty always end up in situations like these?
He had just been curious, it looked so harmless on the surface. Rick had a normal looking, thick, black leather collar laid out on his work table, set off to the side.
Morty found it odd and briefly wondered if Rick was actually into that sort of thing (well, Morty was positive he was, he’d seen the man decked out in bondage gear more than once), but it was unusual of him to leave it laying out.
Rick’s back was turned and Morty picked it up, examining it. He smirked to himself, putting it around his neck and slipping it through the loop. He could tease Rick about it and the man would be pissed that Morty was wearing something he used for kinky shit, thus forever ruining that particular item for him.
It seemed like a stupid harmless joke, a way to piss the man off to get back at him for exhausting him with high-stakes adventures lately.
This is, until the collar material constructed around his throat, the belt sinking into itself, and the loop seemed to rotate; locking into place loudly and beeping afterward. He pulled on it but it would budge.
“Morty…” Rick growled; the boy turned to see the man looming over him dangerously, “Do y-you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
“Um— I, uh, I j-just meant it as a joke, Rick—“
“ Quiet. ”
Morty immediately clamped his mouth shut and couldn’t seem to get any noise to come out of himself no matter how hard he tried.
“Th-that’s a control collar, Morty,” Rick huffed, “a prototype, b-but it looks like it’s working just fine. The Gorean’s asked me to whip this b-baby up,” he tapped on the collar, “t-to make it comfortable enough for long-term wear, able to conform to the wearers anatomy perfectly, and can only b-be unlocked by the registered owner of the slave.”
Morty’s eyes went wide. Slave?
“T-to clarify, the Gorean’s are a race of hardcore BDSM freaks, Morty. The collar is intended to h-help in the training process since, well,” Rick gave the boy a twisted grin, “the one who wears it can’t resist the orders of who the collar is registered to; which, in th-this case, is me.”
Morty gulped.
“You can speak now.”
The boy gasped, feeling the control of his vocal chords come back, “R-rick, why would you m-make something like this?!”
“Yeesh, d-don’t have a cow, Morty,” Rick took a swig from his flask and belched loudly, “th-that’s how they do shit on that p-planet and I’m getting paid the big bucks t-to design this for them. Speaking of which, Morty,” Rick gave the boy a sly grin, “since y-you were so eager to try that on, you’re going to help me test out this bad boy!”
“What?!” Morty squeaked, suddenly quite afraid.
“Oh yeah, c-consider it your punishment, you little bitch,” the man sneered, “now, take off your shirt.”
Unwillingly, Morty instantly followed the command, pulling his shirt over his head and letting it fall to the floor.
“Get down on your knees.”
Again, Morty obeyed unwillingly.
Rick chuckled, “Alright, put your hands b-behind your head and l-link your fingers together, k-keep your arms up. Now arch your back and stick out your chest.”
Morty did as he was told and Rick hummed in satisfaction. The boy felt utterly humiliated and was breathing heavily. The collar that started off as restrictive was now settling into being a comfortable pressure around his neck. And honestly? Obeying every command without having to think was oddly relaxing… which disturbed the boy greatly.
Rick ghosted a finger tip up along Morty’s spine, making the boy shiver.
“Eep!” Morty squeaked out, flinching from the sudden touch.
Rick snorted, “Y-you’re so t-twitchy, Morty,” he took another drink from his flask, “r-relax, I’m not going to hurt you. Spread your legs as w-wide as you can.”
Morty whimpered and his body obeyed without his consent. The pose was so humiliating and Morty could feel the tears starting to form in his eyes.
“Now, t-tell me, Morty… who owns you?” Rick flashed him a sadistic grin, waiting for the boy’s response.
The sound caught in Morty’s throat. How could he answer something like that? He wasn’t owned by anyone, no matter what Rick—
“You, R-rick.”
Morty sobbed out his answer, choking on his own saliva, his body trembling in a desperate need to collapse but he couldn’t because of the damned collar. Why? Why did he say that?!
Rick put a hand on Morty’s shoulder to brace him, “Release.”
The boy slumped against his grandfather, arms falling from his head as he trembled; he grabbed onto Rick’s arm and lab coat, curling into the warmth it provided and cried.
“There, there,” Rick used his free hand to stroke Morty’s hair and the boy keened up into it, “y-you did good, Morty,” the boy gasped at the praise, “Grandpa’s r- real proud of you, buddy.”
The man untangled himself from his grandson and reached for the collar, pressing his thumb against the metal part. The collar beeped and Morty felt the pressure around his throat release. Morty gasped and suddenly felt so… so cold and exposed.
“H-having your autonomy s-stripped away is a real trip, huh, Morty?” Rick held the collar in his hand in front of Morty’s face, “Even w-with just the tame shit I had you do.”
“Y-y-yeah…” Morty shuddered, “it- it was pretty intense, Rick. Um, I- I’m sorry f-for touching your stuff without permission, Rick…”
Rick was taken aback; the boy looked up at him submissively, his cheeks flushed and his eyes still wet, looking to his grandfather for forgiveness.
“Well, you, uh, y-you learned your lesson, Morty,” Rick cleared his throat, this whole situation becoming too awkward, “a-and you helped me m-make sure this worked properly, s-so…” the man sighed, “how about I take you out f-for some ice cream?”
Morty perked up, “Really?”
“Yeah, buddy! Put your shirt back on and let’s go!” Rick shouted excitedly.
The boy smiled and did as he was told.
Rick’s eyes followed Morty’s movements as the boy went to retrieve the tool he requested. Morty bounced over to Rick’s toolbox with a spring in his step, a satisfied smile on his face. When Morty presented the tool to Rick, the man thanked him and the young boy beamed; his grin widening to the point it was freaking Rick out.
Morty had been acting strange since the collar incident last week. He was being abnormally helpful, not just with helping his grandfather in the garage but with dumb shit as well. Just last night the family had been watching TV together and Rick ran out of beer. Just as he was about to get up to get another, Morty hopped up and said he’d get it.
That raised more than a few eyebrows, his own included. When Morty brought the drink back, Rick thanked him and once again the boy was beaming.
It was starting to get creepy.
Rick finally had enough during dinner, when instead of Beth bringing Rick his food, it was Morty who got up and served the man his dinner first, patiently waiting for the man to respond with a thank you before going back to the kitchen to get his own food.
After dinner, Rick grabbed Morty by the wrist and dragged him to the garage, demanding an explanation.
“Alright, spill,” Rick ordered, jabbing a finger into the boy’s chest, “w-what’s been with you lately, Morty? Not that I dislike b-being waited on, but what’s your deal?”
The boy was flustered by the line of questioning, “I don’t… I don’t know, Rick…” Morty rubbed the back of his neck and looked away bashfully, “I j-just, lately, I don’t know, I just l-like it when you praise me and th-thank me for doing things…”
Rick ran a hand down his face, thinking, “Morty, d-does this have anything to do with th-that Gorean collar I made?”
The way Morty snapped his head up only to look away, his blush deepening, told Rick his assumption was correct.
“Christ, kid,” Rick sighed in exasperation, “l-look, that wasn’t— I was just screwing with you. The collar is gone now, I’m n-not going to use it on you again, so relax, okay?” The man groaned, assuming the boy was afraid that Rick might use the collar on him again if he didn’t act subservient to Rick; he grumbling out, “I’m sorry, alright? You don’t h-have to wait on me hand and foot, I w-was just testing to make sure the thing worked. Evidently, it worked a little too well.” He sighed, stroking his hair back.
“O-oh,” Morty mumbled. He was sweating nervously; it seemed Rick completely misunderstood what was going on with the boy and that… Morty felt sad about that for some reason, “yeah, I guess it did work a little t-too well,” he chuckled nervously, twiddling his fingers together, “can I— I mean, I’m j-just going to go to bed, Rick.” The boy corrected himself before he asked for permission.
“That’s a good idea, M-morty,” Rick agreed, “I’ll even let you sleep through the night!” The man laughed, patting the boy on the back.
Morty left and went to his room, curling up into bed, pulling the covers up as high as he could; then, he started crying. He wasn’t even sure why, he just felt hurt somehow.
Morty had done a complete one-eighty since their discussion and Rick was beyond annoyed by it. Morty had been overly helpful before, but now it was like he was acting out on purpose. When he wasn’t being a brat, he was moody and lethargic, giving Rick the cold shoulder.
Currently the pair were in Rick’s ship, flying through space; Morty stared out the window and Rick was grinding his teeth, unable to keep a lid on his anger any longer.
“Ahhhhhh!!” Rick yelled suddenly, slamming his hand on the wheel and scaring his grandson out of his skin.
“Jesus, Rick!” Morty turned to face him, “W-what’s wrong with you?!”
“Me, Morty?!” Rick got in his face and yelled, spittle hitting the boy’s face, “Y-you’re the problem here, y-y-you little shit! You’ve been acting l-like a moody little bitch for the past two weeks!”
“Maybe I’m just in a bad mood, you- you stupid crazy old bastard!” Morty growled back at the man.
“Oh yeah, Morty?! You s-sure weren’t in a bad mood after that fucking collar! M-maybe I should put one back on you so you’ll stop acting like s-such a little pussy!”
“Maybe you should! F-fucking do it! I dare you, Rick!” Morty locked eyes with the man, challenging him.
Rick looked him up and down before squinting at the boy, “Holy shit… you want me to, don’t you?! You little freak!” The man laughed cruelly at his grandson’s expense.
“N-no I don’t!” Morty insisted, but the blush on his face made it clear he was lying, “Y-you old pervert, who- who would even think I wanted that?!”
“Evidently, you,” Rick snorted, “holy shit, c-calling me a pervert when you’re the one who wants Grandpa to d-dominate you! All this time of you whining about not w-wanting me to control you and n-now you’re wanting me to do it? Oh, th-that’s fucking rich, baby!” The man laughed loudly and showed no signs of stopping.
Morty’s entire face went red as Rick mocked him and he was unable to hold back his tears, hiccuping and trying to wipe his face off before they fell.
Rick’s laughter died down as Morty’s quiet sobbing reached his ears. His brow furrowed, guilt getting to him, “M-morty?” He reached out and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, only for Morty to slap it away, glaring at him as tears poured down his red cheeks.
Morty turned away from his grandfather and immediately ran to his room once they arrived home.
The next few days, Morty gave the man the cold shoulder, refusing to speak to his grandfather no matter how much Rick pestered him.
Rick growled in frustration, knocking away what he was currently working on and replacing it with new materials. Morty wanted to play this dangerous little game? Fine. He’d give the boy what he wanted and then Morty would come to his senses!
He kicked in Morty’s bedroom door, making the boy jump in surprise. He glared at Rick and Rick glared at him right back. The man slammed the door shut and stomped over to the boy where he sat at his desk; he slammed his latest invention onto the wooden table in front of the boy, scowling at him.
Morty’s eyes darted between the object and Rick, his frown turning ever so slightly upward.
It was another collar.
Rick let out an annoyed huff, “Listen, Morty, I’m warning you that you d-don’t get to say ‘no’ to me ever again if you put that on. If you can’t fucking handle that, then get the fuck over y-yourself and stop acting like a whiny bitch. This isn’t some kinky sex thing either, if you get a goddamn boner during this, th-that’s your own problem! I’m doing this to get it out of your damn system so shit can go back to normal. N-now, this thing isn’t a control collar, Morty. It won’t force you to do anything, it’ll be all you. S-so…” he learned down and got in the boy’s face, lip curled up in a sneer, believing the boy would get scared and back down, “s-still want Grandpa to dominate you, baby?”
Morty looked between his grandfather and the collar. He reached for the collar and held it up to Rick, “P-put it on me?”
“Are your hands broken?” Rick grumbled, surprised the boy still wanted to go forward with this.
Morty’s face scrunched up, “You m-made it, so shouldn’t you b-be the one to put it on?”
Rick facepalmed, dragging his hand down in exasperation, “Fine,” he snatched the collar from Morty and fastened it, watching as it molded around his delicate neck and locked into place, beeping. Unable to be removed without his own personal authorization. The man gulped, wondering why he was even doing this, “there. You h-happy now?”
Morty was blushing hard and he nodded his head, shyly glancing away.
Rick sighed, “Good.” The man stuck a hand in his lab coat and pulled out a black leather leash, clasping it onto the metal ring of the collar, “It’s cold out, s-so get your jacket and a- a scarf,” he grinned wickedly at the boy, “we’re going out for a walk, r-right down stairs, past your family.”
Morty was blushing from head to toe but he waddled over to his closet and pulled on a jacket, wrapping the scarf around the collar.
Once they were downstairs, he noticed Rick cleverly hid the leash from sight from the family when he announced they were going out for a walk. They got odd looks but no one questioned it.
Morty struggled to keep up with the older man on their brisk walk; Rick’s long legs carried him further, faster. The few people they passed, he could swear they somehow knew what he was wearing. Every time he fell behind too much, the leash would go taut and he was yanked forward by the neck, forcing him to pick up the pace.
Finally, Rick came to a halt, he looked around the area and then back at Morty.
“Alright, we’re here,” he gestured to the entrance to the park, trees and bushes surrounding the concrete path within; the man led him inside, stopping when they reached the first curve of the path, just out of eyeshot of the entrance, “this is good. Take off e-everything but your shoes, Morty.”
Morty looked up at him, eyes wide and body trembling, “W-what?”
“Take off everything but your shoes,” Rick repeated, grinning cruelly down at the boy, “I’m t-taking my puppy for a walk and the last time I checked, dogs d-don’t wear clothes. Be grateful I’m l-letting you keep your shoes on.”
Morty gulped and raised his hand up to the scarf, pulling it off and putting it in Rick’s outstretched hand. Next came the jacket, then his shirt. He struggled to get his pants off over his shoes but he handed those to Rick too. He put his thumbs under the band of his underwear, looking around nervously and then back to Rick. His grandfather’s stern expression and gaze offered no mercy.
The boy slowly lowered his boxers down his shaking legs, pulling them off and handing them to Rick. Instinctively, Morty used his hands to cover his privates and Rick sneered at him, “Dogs don’t c-care about letting it all hang out, Morty. Hands b-behind your back.”
Morty whimpered but obeyed, tears pricking at his eyes.
“Alright, puppy,” Rick said in a mocking tone, “l-let’s go for a walk.”
The man yanked on the leash and pulled Morty forward. They walked down the path, Rick was as casual as ever, while Morty felt like thousands of eyes were on him. Rick yanked him forward many times because Morty kept freezing up.
It was cold, Morty was shivering, but he didn’t want to stop. All of this felt good for some reason; Rick leading him around on a leash while he was buck naked. In spite of what Rick said earlier, he knew the man wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.
A burst of cold air blew down the path and Morty felt his soft cock flap a little in the strong breeze, reminding him too clearly about just how exposed he was. If someone came by, they’d see everything, they’d see him being walked like a dog by an old man. Morty shuddered and licked his lips.
He didn’t know how long they were walking but it felt like an eternity. Morty sniffled a little and Rick stopped, turning back to glance at him, “Good a s-spot as any,” the man stated, pulling out his flask and taking a drink, “a-alright, puppy, t-time for you to go potty.” The man grinned down at him, wide and sadistic.
“W-w-what?” Morty’s knees knocked together nervously, “y-you want me t-to—“
“Pee, Morty,” Rick clarified, “pop a squat and piss r-right here, on the concrete,” he chuckled darkly, “l-leave a nice big puddle for the next people who come by to see.”
Mortified, the boy slowly sank to the ground, putting his hands on the freezing cold concrete, squatting. Somehow this position felt even more humiliating.
“I… I can’t, Rick…” Morty whined, looking up at his grandfather with pleading eyes, “I’m t-trying but I can’t…”
Rick placed a hand on top of Morty’s head, just keeping it there, “You can and you will, Morty,” the man said sternly, “because th-that’s what good puppies do.”
Morty closed his eyes, whimpered and arched up into Rick’s hand, finding the touch comforting and warm. So warm.
His muscles relaxed, no longer shivering, and he let the contents of his bladder go, spraying it onto the concrete below. Morty whined, cheeks flushed with utter humiliation. His eyes snapped open with the realization that Rick was looking right at him. His grandfather was watching him pee, squatting like a dog, in a public park. Morty cried hard, overwhelmed emotionally, as Rick smiled in satisfaction. After what felt like forever, the stream of urine finally stopped.
Rick bent down, inches from Morty’s face, hand still on the boy’s head, “Good puppy.”
Morty gasped, his arms and legs shaking and giving way, knees hitting the puddle of urine.
“Oh, l-looks like my puppy made a mess…” Rick taunted, “we better—“
Rick stopped short, hearing sounds coming from the direction they were walking in. He grabbed Morty and dashed into the trees with him, hiding from the couple walking past them, hand clamped over Morty’s mouth.
The man saw as the woman’s boot splashed into the puddle, her face scrunching up in disgust once she smelled that it wasn’t water, “Oh my God! That’s so fucking gross! Who lets their dog just piss on the sidewalk like that!”
“Nasty, but come on babe, it’ll dry fast.”
“Not the point, dear.”
The pair walked off and Rick could feel the boy shaking in his arms, “You hear that, Morty?” He teased, “That poor woman g-got her shoe dirtied b-because of you.”
Morty whimpered in the man’s hold, squirming, tears running down over Rick’s hand.
“Hm, guess it’s time to take my little p-puppy home,” he fished out his portal gun and picked the boy up, “y-you’re fucking filthy, Morty.”
Rick deposited Morty in the bathroom, telling him to take a bath. The man removed the collar from around the boy’s neck and told him he’d leave his clothes on his bed and that they’d talk later.
Morty sank into his bath water and was in a daze. In spite of the warm water, he felt cold and alone. He reached around his neck and applied a light pressure, simulating how the collar felt around him.
The boy closed his eyes and sighed; that was better. Not the same, but better. Still, he wished Rick was here with him. That whole ordeal was a lot, but Morty had enjoyed it… and Rick had protected him, made sure he wasn’t seen, and reassured him when Morty said he couldn’t do what Rick asked.
It was oddly kind of the man, considering he was trying to get Morty to hate this stuff. He still wanted Rick here with him though, to tell him that he did good. If Rick wasn’t telling him that then… did that mean he wasn’t good? Did he do something wrong?
Morty whimpered.
Rick had called him filthy.
Rick dumped Morty’s clothes on his bed and portalled to his own bedroom, sitting on the bed and staring down at the collar in his hands. What had he just done?
At first, he was just going to have the boy remove the scarf, but before he realized it he told Morty to take off everything. He had really wanted to utterly humiliate the boy instead of just making him uncomfortable.
And then that whole peeing thing? Where did that even come from?!
Well, at the very least Morty’s crying was a good indicator that the boy wouldn’t want Rick to do anything like that again and that was good. Morty shouldn’t want his grandfather to do shit like that to him anyway, the little freak.
Then again, Rick wasn’t much better, was he? He enjoyed humiliating Morty and putting him in predicaments. It truly wasn’t sexual for him, seeing as how his dick didn’t even so much as twitch that whole time, there was just something about Morty’s dumb face that made Rick want to bully him and see him cry.
Eh, Morty would give him hell tomorrow and then things could finally go back to normal around here.
Goddamn, Rick hated when he was wrong. Morty got even worse.
The boy was even more lethargic, had bags under his eyes, and could barely stand to say two words to Rick. The man was starting to feel guilty, thinking he’d pushed the boy too hard.
In spite of his mental state, Morty still assisted Rick with his work and one day Rick required a glass beaker from one of his shelves. As normal, Morty fetched it, but he tripped over his own feet and the beaker slipped from his hands, shattering onto the hard garage floor below.
“Morty, what the hell ha—!”
Rick was cut off as Morty let out a loud, pathetic wail, scurrying down to the ground, “I’m s-sorry! I’m so sorry!” He cried as he started picking up the glass shards with his hands.
Rick was stunned momentarily by the boy’s reaction but snapped out of it when Morty flinched, a piece of glass biting into his flesh.
“H-hey! Morty, stop that, you idiot!” Rick grabbed the sobbing boy by his wrists, forcing the boy to drop the shards, “Y-you don’t pick up glass with your hands, moron! Here, l-let Grandpa see’em…” the man examined Morty’s hands, seeing little bits of glass embedded into the cuts; he sighed, “You have g-glass in your cuts now, I’ll need to get them out. Go sit on the table.”
Morty did as he was told, cradling his hands against his chest, sobbing quietly now, muttering, “I’m sorry” every so often.
Rick swept up the glass and threw it away before pulling up his chair and grabbing a pair of tweezers. He placed Morty’s hands under a magnifying glass and plucked out the dangerous shards, all while the boy still muttered how sorry he was.
The man sighed, “Morty, it- it was just a beaker, d-don’t worry about it, I can get another one easily,” he said, hoping that would calm the boy, “it’s okay, I’m not mad.”
“B-but I… I was— I wasn’t a g-good boy, Rick, I m-m-made a mess again! I k-keep trying t-to be good, but I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Grandpa Rick! I- I’m filthy!” Morty’s sobs wracked his body just as Rick applied the ointment to heal his wounds.
That was when Rick finally got a good look at the pleading, helpless, lost look in Morty’s eyes and realized just how badly he fucked up, “Uh-oh…” the man muttered, “sh-shit, Morty, listen to me. Y-you…” the man rubbed the back of his neck, unable to believe how stupid he was for not noticing sooner, “you’re g-going through subdrop, Morty.”
The boy tilted his head in confusion, still crying but not understanding what Rick was talking about.
“It’s m-my fault, I left you alone after what we did and I— I shouldn’t have,” Rick admitted with a sigh, “shit, I really didn’t th-think you would— I mean, fucking damn it! Look, you j-just gotta let me take care of you and that’s all there is to it, okay?!”
Morty flinched back at Rick’s sudden outburst, new tears forming.
“Fuck, s-sorry, Morty,” Rick grabbed the boy under his arms and Morty wrapped his legs around the man’s waist, letting himself be carried, “j-just relax, baby, I’ll take care of you, okay?”
Morty nodded against him, “Okay…”
Rick carried the boy to his bedroom, not bothering to answer the family’s questions about what was wrong with Morty. He laid the boy down on the cot and ran back to the kitchen, getting them both a bottle of water and snacks. He stopped by the hall closet and grabbed a comfy blanket and the spare pillows the family kept for company.
He went back into his bedroom and shut the door behind him, switching on his lamp light.
“Grandpa Rick?” Morty mumbled, not sure what the man was up to.
“I’m h-here, Morty,” Rick say everything down on the cot and put a hand under Morty’s back, easing the boy up to a sitting position, “here’s what we’re going to do, we-we’re gonna sit here, hydrate, and eat some snacks while we watch a little TV. Grandpa’s g-gonna stay with you until you feel better, okay?”
“Oh, um, o-okay, Rick. Th-thank you.” Morty stammered as Rick arranged the spare pillows, stacking them so that they’d prop them both of them up so they could clearly see the little TV at the foot of Rick’s bed.
Rick got onto the cot and got comfortable, setting the water and snacks to the side, “Alright, come’ere, Morty,” he motioned for the boy to come closer and Morty blushed. The cot wasn’t that big so Rick must be expecting them to cuddle. He crawled over to the man and laid his head on Rick’s shoulder, his grandfather’s arm immediately curling around the boy, “th-there we go.” Rick pulled up the blanket over the both of them, tucking it up more around Morty’s shoulders before grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.
It wasn’t Interdimensional Cable but they still found something calming to watch while they ate their snacks. Before Morty knew what hit him, he was starting to drift asleep, listening to his grandfather’s steady breathing.
“You’re a good boy, Morty,” Rick murmured softly as the boy began to drift off, making Morty smile against his chest, “you… you’re not filthy either, okay, buddy?”
“I’m n-not?” The boy asked softly.
“No, y-you just got a little m-messy, it happens to all of us.” Rick stroked the boy’s hair as Morty’s eyes started to flutter closed.
“Rick,” Morty snuggled closer against his grandfather’s chest, hiding his face in embarrassment, “Rick, is- is it bad that I en-enjoyed w-what we did that night? Am I- am I r-really a freak?”
Rick was silent for a moment, positive that what he was about to say would come back to bite him in the ass, “If y-you’re a freak, Morty, then,” the man sighed, “then I am too. I enjoyed doing that t-to you way more than I should have and I p-pushed you further than I originally planned,” he groaned in frustration, “d-damn, what a mess.”
Morty laughed weakly, “Ha ha, yeah, w-what a real p-pickle.”
Rick smiled down at him, happy to hear Morty acting a little more like his normal self, “Look, buddy, I r-really am sorry I didn’t take care of you after s-something like that,” the man took a deep breath; he couldn’t believe what he was about to suggest, “if- if you want to do something l-like this again, with me, s-since we both enjoyed it… well, I wouldn’t be opposed, and I’d take care of you.”
“It w-wouldn’t be you trying to teach me a lesson?”
“Nope, it’d be f-for real, Morty,” Rick mumbled, embarrassed, “I can’t believe I’m even suggesting it, I shouldn’t even be entertaining th-this whole thing, b-but after that first time with the control collar you seemed happier. If I w-wasn’t such an ass this time around, you’d probably be like that again. S-s-so, if you want to t-try again, I’m willing.”
“Yes.” Morty responded without hesitation, smiling up at the man, “Yes, Rick, I want to. It- it makes me f-feel good when you do things like that to me a-and then praise me.”
“Just to be clear, Morty,” Rick cleared his throat, “th-this isn’t, like, a sexual thing for you, right? ‘Cause I’m not about to add ‘incest’ and ‘child molestation’ to m-my mile long rap sheet, got it?”
Morty laughed awkwardly, “No, it isn’t! I d-didn’t even get hard l-last time, or the time before that. I’m n-not attracted to you or anything, I j-just trust you.”
“Good. That makes th-this feel slightly less creepy at least,” Rick snorted, “okay, w-well, you get some rest right now. We’ll talk more about this shit later, alright?”
Morty yawned, “Alright, Rick, a-and thank you, you know, f-for taking care of me.” If Rick said anything in response, Morty didn’t hear it because he was out like a light.