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i-will-cry-you-a-river · 1 year

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“It hurts.” “I know (condescendingly)” for Primecest?👀❤️

Morty should have known better. Well, he knew better, that was the thing. He knew better than to ignore what any Rick - especially Prime - orders him. It was simple too; just stay on his ass until Prime got back.

But Mortys weren't made to be still, sit obediently. They were Ricks' little helpers, sure, but they were curious and a little ball of neurodivergent anxieties. Left alone, they would either masturbate or touch things they had no authorization to touch. Or both. Most of the time Mortys did both.

So, it wasn't really Morty's fault that after finally being untied, he wanted to explore the room. It was so different from his-

Oh. Wait. Prime was his gr- his original family member, wasn't he?

-the Rick-He-Lived-With's garage, he just couldn't help himself. He had to explore all those shiny buttons and sleek designs and strange devices!

He just wanted to look around for a bit. It wasn't his fault that it took longer than he anticipated and that Prime would get home get to the base earlier than expected.

"Well, well, well, look who can't follow orders." A voice came from behind Morty. The young boy winced, dropping the metal object from his hand, which crashed against the floor with a big cling. Morty froze, his freeze reflex completely taking over his fight or flight ones.

"Looks like that fucker Rick couldn't teach you to obedience." Morty could hear the maniac grin in Prime's voice. The blood froze in his body as the fear gradually crept up on him.

It was worse than the screaming belittlements his Rick tended to throw against him. Much worse.

"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry, I-I d-didn't mean to," Morty forced himself to say it without turning around, his stuttering getting worse as he broke out in cold sweat. He didn't dare to move, he felt like he was a little, defenseless bunny against the big bad predator. It shouldn't have made sense; Prime looked so scrawny, so young and carefree - but that just made him even more terrifying.

"Look at me."

There was no way Morty would refuse it. Ducking his head, he turned around, fidgeting with his hands. The door shut behind Prime with a final-sounding, ominous click.

Morty started apologizing immediately. "I-I'm sorry, R-R- Prime, I d-didn't mean to, I'm so, so, so, so s-sorry! I wasn't-"

"Quiet," the young-looking Rick ordered, and Morty, for once, shut his mouth. "I told you to stay put. It wasn't even a difficult task! Do you even follow what C-137 tells to you, or does he only keep you to up the difficulty level of your adventures? Don't answer," he interrupted, when he saw the pouting boy opened his mouth. "You were allowed to wait, unbound, yet you chose to disobey me. Such a bad, bad grandson…"

Morty gulped. That should have sounded bad and threatening - and it was! -, but… maybe he really was a fucking pervert as his family always accused him to be.

The unusual, kind of very weird Rick rolled up his sleeves as he walked over his seat, then sat on it, not looking away from the fidgety boy. "Kneel," he ordered.

Morty's knees buckled, and fell on the ground before he knew what he was doing. "So you can follow orders…" Prime smirked, and invited Morty closer with his pointing finger. "Good boy," he murmured.

Morty shuddered, and couldn't quite swallow his strangled moan back. He was close to tears, but it was a mixture of frustration, fear, shame, and humiliating want. The smirk became bigger.

"Huh… Maybe you are good for something else than just being a bait. We'll have so much fun until that loser finds us!"

"P-pr-prime, I…"

"Call me grandpa, grandson. After all, I am your grandfather." The salacious grin on Prime's lips promised lots of things. None of them was something a grandfather should do with his grandson. "Now, where were we? Oh, right. Your punishment…"

"No, I, Grandpa, please!" Morty pleaded, but one look from the older man, and he shut his mouth.

Eyes burning with something unidentifiable, yet something so familiar raked over his body. "Strip and come here," he ordered after long moments of tense silence.

A hiccuping sound left Morty's mouth, his eyes crossed over, cheeks pinking and heart rushing so fast as it never before, but he was quick to follow Rick's words. He toed off his shoes, before struggling with the zip on his jeans, tugging impatiently for a few moments. Finally, he managed to wriggle himself out of his jeans and socks, leaving his briefs for a bit longer, then pulled his shirt off in one swoop.

Standing in front of Prime - his original grandfather, the person, who killed Rick's wife and daughter, the reason for Rick's single-minded obsession -, only covered by tiny white briefs, being looked at like that… his inside twisted, and his little prick hardened.

He was a sick, twisted, perverted little fucker, just like his Rick told him he was.

He worried the hem of his undergarment with his fingers, hesitating, but he quickly shimmied out of them at the look in Prime's eyes, so icy-cold and powerful. Biting into his lower lip so hard he could taste the copper of his blood, he kneeled clumsily in front of the unhinged man. He really didn't want to obey, it was uncomfortable, and scary, and the confusing feelings swirling inside him didn't help either. He was on the verge of a panic attack, his breathing labored and shallow, but he just held still like the captured prey he was in front of a much bigger, scarier predator.

Prime was entirely too silent and too focused on the kneeling kid, making the experience even more uncomfortable. Morty could feel that any sudden movement could set Prime off, so he just stayed still, whimpering slightly.

"Well, looks like you do know how to take an order, grandson," Prime mocked, his lips curling up in a cruel smirk. It was both infuriating and strangely arousing, which, in general, was a great way to describe most Ricks. Unfortunately.

"It is almost a shame I need to punish you," Prime mentioned conversationally, his smile sharp and predatory, causing Morty's breath to catch in his throat. "You look so pretty down there."

"Come on, grandson, up here. Grampa's going to spank you until you remember to follow your orders like the obedient little puppy you are. Make you remember it when that loser gets here, trying to take you away, and you won't be able to take even a step. You will always be reminded who you belong to." Morty was covered with goosebumps as Prime let out a possessive growl. He tried to convince himself that he hated that, that all he wanted was to escape from this animal's claws, yet on top of his other bad traits, he was also a very bad liar. He couldn't lie even to himself.

Prime snapping his finger at him, as if he was calling a servant, or more like, a puppy, zapped through his body like a lightning bolt. The degradation… humiliation… possessiveness… objectification…

Morty learnt more about himself in the last few minutes than he did during his whole life. Red faced, but obedient, he crawled towards Prime, draping himself over his lap. Biting his bottom lip, he stared up at Pri- Ric- Grampa?, looking at him for approval, for any sign that would tell him he was doing a good job.

"Just like that, you little masochist," his original grandfather praised. Morty's eyes glossed over, his bright hazel eyes burning with a want for more. His already pink cheeks turned cherry-red; not even the wanton moan that left his lush, pink lips could make him blush more. He waited in breathless anticipation for what was going to happen, for the first slap to land, but it couldn't prepare him for the sting of pain. He let out a startled yelp, but before he could make an even bigger mess for himself by jumping out of Prime's lap, another slap was layered over the first one, now harder, as a reminder to be a good boy. He swallowed his whine, his body tensed, but as the third, the fourth and the fifth landed, his body became boneless, just a little ball of nerves.

Morty tried to squirm away, his senses going override, but the hand that wasn't spanking him, carefully pinned him down. He couldn't see from that angle, but he could feel Prime's breath quickening, as if he was just as affected by the punishment as he was.

Six… seven… eight-nine-ten.

Tears began to form as the last three slaps came in a quick succession to the same place. His tears turned to whimpering and sobbing, not used to this type of pain, especially because it mixed with the emotional one. His tears turned to whimpering, then sobbing as Prime's hand continued to hit Morty's aching bottom.

"Goddam, you look so pretty when you are so pitiful," Rick Prime mumbled, turning Morty's head towards him with his free hand, making his neck twist painfully. Snot, drool and tears ran down on Morty's red face and open lips, and Morty felt gross, yet all he could see in the older man's eyes was want-

And was that… was that awe?

Another hit slapped painfully on Morty's fragile bottom. He already lost count of how many he had to endure already, and he was at the end of his endurance.

"P-please, d-don't… n-no more," he sobbed. "It hurts!"

A huffing sound reached his ears. Was Rick Prime laughing at him? Mocking him? "Oh, baby, I know. Don't cry anymore, it's going to be the last one. Grandpa knows you are going to be a good boy from now on," he said, his tone filled with condescending fake sympathy.

It should have been a turn off. Should have made Morty's skin crawl, his stomach turn upside down.

It wasn't.

Morty whined, breathing heavily, his heart trying to jump out of his chest as the last hit reached his sore, inflamed ass, making his body jolt forward, rubbing his aching little cock against Prime's clothes thighs. The friction made him cry out, his dripping precum drenching his grandfather's pants. His head felt full of light blue clouds and syrupy honey, like he was floating away.

Tears were running down on his cheeks as he stared glassily at nothing, his teeth unconsciously biting into his bottom lip. His hips mindlessly started to move, humping against Prime's thighs, as he was floating in the sea of pain and pleasure.

"You were such a good boy, Morty. You took your punishment so well." He could hear a low murmur, so low maybe he was just imagining it. He just knew it felt good to think he might have been a good boy.

Hands were caressing him, rubbing over his aching bottom and thighs, bringing feelings back to his body.

"So good, my little grandson." The praise is low again, but feeling less floaty, Morty is more convinced that he wasn't just imagining it. Finally he was acknowledged; he was a good boy. Rick said it, so it must have been true! First, he didn't even realize that the whining sound was coming from you, only when his grandpa's caresses became more present, more real, did he feel the strain in his vocal cords.

Breathing heavily, he returned his body, just to feel Ric- Prime's hand sneaking between Morty's thighs, reaching for his cock. The young boy jumped as warmly big fingers wrapped around his small dick, and he really couldn't be blamed for the small hiccupping noise that left his lips when Prime gently rubbed his slit. His touches were so in contrast with the previous punishment, it gave Morty a whiplash, but he wasn't complaining.

Having somebody else's hand on his cock, even if it was his grandf- Prime's - or maybe especially, because it was his -, was way better than the feeling of his tiny little hands.

"See, what happens to food boys? They get rewarded, while bad boys get punished," Prime teased, altering the amount of pressure he used on Morty's cock. "But I guess, reward and punishment are pretty much the same for you. You are just like your grandpa," the older man murmured. His strokes became more forceful, steady, yet purposeful. Morty couldn't swallow back his moans, his eyes closed from the pleasure, as his original grandfather brought him to the edge of the abyss.

"Yeees," Morty's moans increased, he was so close, so close-

"Cum for grandpa!"

That was all Morty needed. The young boy immediately came, his white cum drenching Prime's hand, pants and it even dripped on the floor. Only his panting breaths broke the silence; the older man let Morty get himself together.

Only when the brunette's breathing evened out, almost suspiciously even, did Rick Prime open his mouth. "Now, get on your knees and open your pretty mouth," he ordered, and helped the dazed boy do as he was told. Morty whimpered as he was forced to sit on his throbbing, aching bottom, slightly dizzy, and so very sleepy, but he obediently opened up.

The older man unzipped his pants, pulling his erection out, aiming it directly towards Morty's tear-streaked, messy, blotchy face, and pretty, puffy pink mouth. He didn't need much, only a few stokes before he was grunting, unloading all over Morty's face, painting his pink cheeks, bloody lips, half-closed eyes and thick eyelashes, curly brown hair white with cum.

It was an unconscious action from Morty to lick his lip to clean himself up, but tasting Rick's - Prime's! - semen didn't deter him. Lazily, he licked it up as best as he could, his little cock twitching uselessly, way too spent and tired to get up once again.

"You insatiable little bitch," Prime scoffed, but it felt loving and fond, instead of berating and disgusted. It made Morty ache more than his stinging ass could ever hurt. "Come," his grandfather said, pulling him up into his arms. Instead of leaving him on the floor, letting to get himself together, Prime picked Morty up, and took him to his room, where he laid the boy next to himself.

They fell asleep curled together, Morty tucked in as the tiniest little spoon, while Prime took the role of a big, menacing spoon, who silently dared C-137 to arrive while the two of them were sleeping.

That loser would never get his lovely little grandson back. Ever.

#rick and morty #rickorty #lemon #rick prime #primecest #morty smith #for my beloved foxy ❤️#rick and morty fanfiction

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