
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7636000.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez, Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Alcohol, Underage_Drinking, Desperation_Play, Wetting, Toys
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-31 Words: 1838
****** Mortyfied ******
by sinfulsanchez
Summary
     Rick punishes Morty for stealing alcohol from his stash.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Rick stepped through the portal mid-sip. He entered the garage and put the
flask back into his lab coat. The portal closed behind him with a soft
swooshing sound.
He steered towards his desk when he saw his passed-out grandson on the floor
slumped against the cabinet closest to the door. An opened bottle, which Rick
instantly recognized as one from his stash, stood next to Morty with a
considerable amount of its content missing.

"Hmph", Rick scoffed and picked it up to put the lid back on.
"Really, Morty? Really?" He muttered with a side glance to the boy sitting to
his feet.
"Why do you have to disappoint me like this, kid?" He picked Morty up and
carried him across the garage. Next to the shelves he sat him down, pulling off
the boy's shirt and throwing it next to the rack.

Rick threw a quick look at the metallic loop in the wall in front of him. He
fished for some cable ties from a box on the shelf and fixated Morty's hands to
the hoop above the teen's head.
Morty stirred. With a low groan he opened his eyes. He looked up at Rick and
blinked in a confused manner.
"Rick?" He whispered, eyes locked on the older man's lips.
Rick huffed. "R-really, Morty? Drinking from your grandpa's stash? This calls
for a- a punishment, Morty." He took a step back and looked down at his
grandson struggling to pull his wrists free.

"Wha-what?" Morty asked. The boy looked around the garage and the events before
his passing out visibly hit him like a brick. He looked up at his grandfather.
"Ri-Rick, I'm so sorry, I never want- I didn't- I-I-I mean...-"
"Shh." Rick knelt in front of him and covered Morty's mouth with his hand. "It
doesn't matter, Morty." He whispered. "You're gonna pay for-, fouuurgh- taking
without asking, kid."
He watched Morty gulp visibly, then retracted his hand.
"But, but, Rick, I just-, I-, I'm sorry, it's- it's just, you wer-"

"Oh, no. Nonono." Rick ordered and reached for a blue handkerchief on the
cupboard. Having looked at it quickly for any signs of stains he twisted it
into a long cloth and pressed it onto Morty's mouth. "Stop apo- apologizing,
Morty. I can't hear it anymore, it's pathetic." He knotted the ends together
tightly behind the boy's head. "You drank from my stash and you're gonna pay
for it, Morty, that's, thuuurgh-t's it."
Morty whimpered and attempted to stand up.

"Oh, oh- no. Can't let you do that, kid." Rick took off the boy's shoes, then
reached for the fly of Morty's jeans, unbuttoned them and tugged them down
forcefully. Rick grabbed another pair of cable ties and then reached for
Morty's feet. He tied them together firmly, making Morty kneel on the floor
with his feet tucked underneath him and his pants pooled around his ankles.
Rick stood up and crossed his arms at the boy looking up at him with unfocused
eyes.
"I don't know why you thought drinking my alcohol was a good idea, Morty, but
you-uuurgh are not getting away with it easily."

He huffed when Morty's eyes expressed nothing but confusion. Walking to his
main desk he leaned down towards one of the cabinets and opened it. Morty
stretched his head to catch a glance of the miniature fridge Rick had installed
in the garage. Having snatched a large bottle of water, Rick knelt down in
front of the teen again.
"You're starting to sober up, Morty, you're going to feel dehydrated very
soon." Rick warned and pulled down the cloth gag, pressing the rim of the water
bottle to Morty's lips and tilting it.
Morty drank what was poured into him, coughed when he wasn't able to swallow it
all at once, the superfluous liquid dribbling down his chin and onto his bare
chest. Morty whimpered and Rick took away the bottle, nodding slowly and
putting the gag onto Morty's mouth again.

Turning his head to the shelf, Rick whispered: "You know, Morty, I, Iiiuuurgh-
I think I have the perfect tool for your punishment somewhere."
Rick straightened up and rummaged through a big cardboard box on the top shelf.
He smirked when he withdrew a long-ish, brightly colored toy and a small box in
the same color which he put into the outer pocket of his lab coat.
Morty's eyes widened at the sight of it and he shook his head slowly. He
protested with muffled sounds.
Rick knelt in front of his grandson again and held the toy behind the kid's
back.

"Re-relax, Morty." He whispered and reached for a small tube of lube in his lab
coat. Squeezing a respectable amount onto the fingers of his right hand he
murmured: "I said punishment, not- not torture, Morty." He packed the tube away
and guided the slick hand into the back of Morty's white briefs.
"Let's see if you'll steal my booze again after this."
His breath hit Morty's neck in hot puffs when he leant forward to rub his sleek
finger over Morty's entrance. The smaller body noticingly twitched under him
when he inserted his middle finger slowly.

The boy whined as his grandfather pushed in further, past the first, then the
second knuckle. He prepared him thoroughly but carefully, first with one then
two fingers.
When Morty's hips suddenly bucked forward, Rick looked down and saw that his
grandson was half-hard.
Finally, Rick decided Morty was sufficiently lubed up and withdrew his hand.

"I think you're ready, Morty." He coated the toy in lube like his fingers just
before, then inserted the phallic object into Morty and made sure that its
front end was placed close to his prostate.
He stood up and his right wrist in the pocket of his lab coat twitched and a
low humming sound filled the garage accompanied by a soft whimper from Morty.
Rick kicked up the speed two notches, smirking at the hitches in Morty's
breathing as the toy vibrated, then retreated calmly to his work desk.
He worked on assembling a small hand gun for fifteen minutes, deliberately
cutting out the sounds of Morty whining.

Eventually, he walked up to him and squatted down.
He pulled down the gag and held up the bottle another time.
"Drink up, Morty." Rick whispered and tilted the bottle, lightly squeezing it.
Morty tried to swallow all the water, but choked on the hastily poured liquid.
He coughed and spluttered heavily. Rick withdrew the bottle instantly. "Wow,
take it, easy, Morty."
The boy coughed another two times, then he seemed to have recovered.
"Rick-"
His attempt to talk was cut off by the man pushing the rim of the bottle back
on his lips. Morty had no choice but to swallow.

By the time the bottle was empty, Morty's throat was burning slightly.
He took a few deep breaths before the cloth was tied over his mouth again.
"Good job, Morty, bo-uuuhrgh-, bottle's empty."
Rick pushed the lever on the remote to the next level and the toy's buzzing
changed to a higher pitch.

Morty squirmed. He'd closed his eyes but opened them abruptly when he felt
Rick's hand rubbing his erection through his underwear.
After a few strokes Rick headed back to his desk, working on the gun for a good
other half an hour. He stopped when Morty's whimpers got louder.
"What is it, Morty?" He knelt down and gripped Morty's chin with his left hand.
"Do you maybe... Want to come?" He asked mockingly.
The boy nodded, his eyes pleading.

"What about you-, your bladder, Morty, hmm?" He lowered his hand to the lower
abdomen and pushed firmly.
The kid let out a muffled cry and tensed up, pressing his thighs together.
His grandfather grinned. "Getting there, I see."
He stroked over Morty's tense thigh, feeling the boy shaking lightly beneath
his palm.
"Don't worry, Morty. Nothing's gonna come out as- as long as your hard." He
reached around Morty and gripped the toy. "However, if you come..." He pushed
it up against Morty's prostate and the boy climaxed in his briefs with a
whimpered moan.

Rick withdrew his hand and turned the toy off via remote.
He quickly met Morty's hopeful eyes, but then resumed working on the handgun at
the desk.

After Morty came down from his high, he began begging to be untied, his weak
voice muffled by the rag.
Rick turned on the chair. "What's that, Morty? Yo-uuurgh need some more water?"
Morty shook his head, but the man already approached with a new bottle.
He pulled down the gag and placed the bottle to the boy's mouth.
"I- I need to- to-" His plead was interrupted by Rick pouring more water into
him.

"Mhm, dehydration is a bitch, isn't it, Morty?" He tilted the bottle higher and
higher, then put it aside half-empty and pulled the gag up.
"I'll be right back." He took out his gun, opened up a portal and stepped
through.
Morty cried out in hope that Rick would stay here, but his grandfather ignored
him once again.
Now he sat alone in the garage, his tired arms confined above his head, a
bright toy up his ass and an immense pressure on his bladder.
God, if Rick didn't release him soon, it was gonna get messy.

He shifted his thighs. They were getting cramped from pressing together and his
muscles would give up shortly.
I can't hold it anymore.
He tried to get his hands free, but without success. Unfortunately, in the
position he was in, he couldn't push down on his dick to keep it from leaking.
The pressure built up more and more and made him feel dizzy. He whined quietly
without even realizing it, his thighs beginning to feel numb. He wasn't sure
how much time had gone by since his grandfather had left, all he could focus on
was the huge amount of liquid in him waiting to be let out.
Suddenly, another portal opened up in the middle of the garage and Rick walked
out and over to kneel down in front of Morty.

"I guess it- it's pretty urgent by now, isn't it?"
With a smirk he placed his hand on the boy's lower abdomen and pressed down
mercilessly.
Morty didn't even fight it, with a whine he relaxed his tense muscles and let
his already dirty underwear get soaked in warm piss that ran down his thighs,
dripped from his legs and formed a small puddle beneath him.
"Oh, Morty, look at the- th- this nasty mess." Rick teased.

While Morty sat motionlessly, drenched in urine and relief, his grandfather
picked up a pair of scissors from the shelf and cut the cable ties on his
hands.
Morty's numb, tired arms fell into his lap and he weakly stroked over his wet
skin.
Rick freed him from the gag and the ties on his feet.

"I- I'm sorry for stealing your b-booze, Rick."
"I know, Mo-uuurgh-ty, I know."
End Notes
     I think y'all have guessed Rick's actual motive wasn't so much about
     the stealing.
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