Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5216312.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez, Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      BDSM, dom!morty, Sub!Rick, wubba_lubba_dub_sub, Collar, rickmorty,
      C137cest, Breathplay
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-15 Words: 3602
****** Earning His Title ******
by a_side_of_sin
Summary
     (To celebrate @yiffymorty‘s awesome milestone, and to thank him for
     being inspirational as fuck when it comes to porn writing!!) Morty
     gets a personalized collar for Rick. Rick is reluctant. Morty isn’t
     fooled. Rickmorty BDSM. Everybody sins.
Morty Smith was fairly certain he had never been more embarrassed in the
entirety of his fifteen years. After all, it’s one thing to walk into an
artist’s shop to have something personalized. It’s quite another to ask to have
“Morty’s Little Cum Slut” tooled into a leather collar. In fact, he’d had to
find a leathersmith in another dimension – it was the only way he could get up
the nerve to make the request. But now that he had it, well… Jeez, it’s
perfect. Morty had just picked the collar up, and he was already adjusting
himself in his pants.
He had been doing his research, reading up on what collars meant in… in their
kind of relationship, he guessed. After he casually mentioned it to Rick and
saw his reaction, he just knew that he had to get Rick a collar. And since
there was no way he was going to be able to get away with measuring Rick’s
neck… well, he’d just have to find one that was guaranteed to fit Rick.
Morty really was inordinately pleased with himself on that score. Rick might
call him an idiot, but this plan had been pretty brilliant. First, he had
locked the DNA goggles onto Rick’s signature, then scrolled through different
realities until he found one that was running slower than his. Then, he had
stolen Rick’s portal gun, along with a pair of Flesh Curtains tickets that Rick
had tacked to his wall. And then… well, the short version was that he had snuck
into a Flesh Curtains concert, and may or may not have roofied a younger Rick.
Once the punk front man had passed out cold, Morty had unbuckled the collar
from around his neck and portaled back to his own dimension.
But Morty knew he couldn’t just give the collar to Rick like that. No, he had
to make it unique. It had to show that Rick belonged to Morty. So now he was
walking out the door of an inter-dimensional leathersmith with Rick’s new (old)
collar neatly wrapped in a wooden display box he had purchased in the shop.
Despite how fiercely he knew he was blushing, Morty could also feel his cock
throbbing in his pants, and he couldn’t wait to get home and see how the
leather looked on Rick’s throat.
Morty used the portal gun to tear a hole in the universe and stepped through
the green light into his bedroom. He was almost ready to walk out the door to
go find Rick, when he realized just how hard he was. Shifting on his bed, he
rubbed himself through his jeans, already wound up imagining his grandfather
with the leather perched above his Adam’s apple. Maybe I’d better take care of
this first…
---
Downstairs in the garage, Rick was aimlessly tinkering. He didn’t have a
project to work on, and he’d run out of ideas for tiny single-purpose robots.
He was handling his boredom the way he usually did, by drinking and messing
around with half-formed ideas until something solidified for him or exploded.
The old scientist found he was especially unfocused today. He didn’t know where
Morty was, and he didn’t like not having the teenager around. He’d never admit
that fact out loud, but he knew he was always more comfortable when he could
feel Morty near him.
Finally, Rick heard the door to the garage creak open, and he looked over his
shoulder as his grandson slipped in. He dropped whatever piece of technology he
had been fiddling with on the table with a loud thunk, and spun around on the
stool. “Fuck, MoURRGHHrty, finally. I-I-I, I’ve been, I’m fucking dying of
boredom here, Morty. C-come on, get in the car, let’s go to Blips and Chitz.”
“S-sure, Rick. But um, hey, uh, uh R-rick? I, uh, I-I k-kind of got you a
present. If you wanna, y-y-you know, m-maybe open it first?” Jesus, how is this
kid so awkward? Rick thought to himself. Still, he couldn’t keep the corners of
his mouth from turning up just a little. “Hellz yeah dawg! FREE
SHIuurrpppTTT!!”
Morty moved forward, and held a wooden box out at arm’s length, almost like he
was afraid to make contact with Rick’s hand. Rick swiped it from him, and
lifted the latch to reveal a black leather collar. Holy shit, Morty… He peered
down into the box for a long moment, like he was looking at some possessed,
unearthly thing. He could feel his blood rushing downward, and he was torn
between slamming the lid closed and throwing himself to his knees in front of
the kid. But there was no way Morty had any idea what a gift like this meant,
so he opted for cruel humor to cover his arousal.
“J-jeez Morty, w-what, do you think I’m some kind of, some kind of fucking dog,
Morty? I-I-I’m not weaURRRPPing that.” He shut the box and tossed it onto the
table next to whatever he had been messing with earlier. He meant to show
disinterest, but when he turned back to Morty, he could see that his grandson’s
eyes were narrowed in on his crotch. Shit. The kid might be a moron sometimes,
but he was getting pretty good at telling when Rick was turned on.
Shitshitshit.
“O-okay, R-rick. You, y-y-you don’t have to put it on for me now. B-but you
will.”
---
They landed back in the garage several hours later, Morty covered in foul-
smelling green goop and Rick howling with laughter. The Gromflamites had raided
Blips and Chitz toward the end of their afternoon, having received an anonymous
tip that notorious terrorist Rick Sanchez was in the vicinity. On their mad
dash to escape the arcade, Morty had slipped in a slime trail and fallen face-
first into some kind of gelatinous being that looked like it was from Prenxxo.
Rick had quickly rescued him, pulling him by his feet until no part of him was
inside the alien’s body, but there was no time to get him cleaned up. They dove
for the ship and Rick drove like crazy until they lost their tail. Rick had
only been giggling when they reached the ship, but as Morty’s scowl deepened
throughout their pursuit, Rick found himself laughing harder and harder. By the
time they climbed out of the ship, Rick could barely breathe.
“Oh, ohmygodMorty, oh HAHAHAHA Morty, that, that w-was great Morty!” Rick
sucked in air, relaxing a bit as the adrenaline left him. “Y-you should
probably go shoUURRGGHHwer though, y-y-you, you smell like shit, heh heh.” His
grandson didn’t bother to respond, he just flipped Rick off over his shoulder
as he trudged for the door. Rick chuckled one last time, and then sat down to
take off his shoes before going upstairs himself. His eyes fell on the wooden
box where he had left it on the table earlier, and he sighed.
He knew he couldn’t tell Morty to take it back. Not with “Morty’s Little Cum
Slut” worked into it, for sure. He peered at the collar for a moment, admiring
the craftsmanship, until… Wait. Was that…? Rick ran his fingers under the edge
of the leather, and realized in a second that the collar wasn’t actually new.
In fact, it was a collar he would know anywhere. Where the fuck did he find
that? The little shit had gone and nicked his collar from his Flesh Curtains
days, and gotten it personalized.
Fuck, that’s… that’s pretty hot, actually. Rick was silent for a minute, and he
could hear the shower running upstairs. He reached into the box and scooped the
collar out. He swiftly unbuckled it, running his hands over the worn soft
leather. The thing had essentially been a part of him, something he wore for
every show when he was touring with the Flesh Curtains, and he knew that it was
molded to his neck. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining Morty buckling it
tight around his throat, just like he couldn’t stop himself from placing the
leather against his Adam’s apple, just to see if it felt like he remembered.
The resulting blood flow to his cock was unavoidable.
He stopped to listen again. The shower was still running. Morty’s prissy ass
was bound to be in there for a while trying to clean off the stench, so he had
some time. Almost mechanically, he reached back and buckled the collar behind
his neck, and when he brought his hands back down, he felt it settle in to the
same spot where he had always worn it. The leather was soft against his skin,
and he could feel where it wrapped around to hold the D-ring in place. He
stretched one finger through the D-ring and pulled, causing the collar to
tighten on his throat. In a matter of seconds, he went from casually interested
to fully invested, and he quickly worked a hand up under his shirt to toy with
one of his nipples.
He closed his eyes, and let himself imagine Morty. Morty yanking back on the
collar while they fucked, Morty putting him on a leash and tying him to the
bed, Morty tightening the collar until the color drained from Rick’s face… Rick
twisted his fingers around the sensitive bud, and groaned at the feeling of his
dick straining to escape the pressure of his pants. Eyes still closed, he
pulled his hand away from his chest, opting to leave the other wrapped around
the strip of leather, and reached for his zipper. The blessed relief that came
from freeing his dick was nothing compared to the firm grip of his hand, and he
stroked himself slowly. “F-f-f, f-fuck, M-morty…”
“I-I told you that y-y-you would wear it for me.”
---
Morty had gone up to the shower thinking of nothing but how disgusting he felt.
It was definitely not his plan to get all worked up, but he was fifteen, the
warm water felt good on his skin, and thinking about Rick in that collar… Sure,
he’d already gotten off on it once today, but the images were too good to
waste. Once he was sure he had all the alien goop washed off, he took hold of
himself with a soapy hand. As he slicked it over his cock, he felt himself
slipping into his headspace. It was like a switch had been thrown in his brain
and he forced himself to be still, stopping his strokes before he’d even really
started. Maybe Rick didn’t want to wear the collar right now, but Morty could
think of some other things that his grandfather could do for him…
So he was naturally thrilled when he returned to the garage to find Rick
looking thoroughly debauched, one hand roughly jerking himself and the other
twisted in his collar, groaning out Morty’s name. And the look on the older
man’s face when Morty spoke, scandalous and so ashamed it looked like it hurt,
only made the whole picture better. Rick immediately pulled both hands away,
dropping his collar and his dick (which immediately sprang back up) when he
realized that he had been caught. Morty wasn’t about to give this up, though.
“No, R-rick. Y-you, y-y-you put my collar on. Y-you’re mine, n-n-now. And I w-
will not tolerate disobedience.” Morty stepped forward into the garage, one
hand holding up the towel around his waist, the other resting gently on top of
the washing machine. “So. S-so. Tuck y-yourself in, a-and go sit on your, on
your bed, R-rick. W-wait for me there. Don’t even touch that, that collar. I w-
want to walk in and see m-my name, my name around your throat. Don’t touch y-
you, yourself, either. Just. J-just wait.”
Morty was fairly certain he had never seen Rick move so quickly in his life.
---
Rick knelt on the old camp bed, naked, with his arms behind his back and facing
the wall, careful to make sure that the text on the collar was visible from the
door. The first few times he had done this with Morty, looking at the wall was
the only way either of them could keep from laughing, and trying to teach his
grandson how to dom while simultaneously laughing at him was not conducive to
the environment. Now, though, kneeling like this was something Rick intricately
associated with giving up control. Not that he really needed help getting into
his headspace when he was wearing a collar his grandson had personalized for
him, but still.
A few minutes later, he heard Morty enter the room, and close and lock the
door. He was grateful that the teenager hadn’t decided to take his time. There
was the noise of a wet towel hitting the floor, and then Rick was graced with
warm breath in his ear and hot velvety flesh pushing up against his back. “S-
so, so pretty for me like this, R-rick, so beautiful w-when you’re desperate
for it. G-god, look so good in my, in your collar, letting the whole w-w-world
know you’re my, my little cum slut.”
Rick felt Morty’s fingers twist into the leather, while his other hand smoothed
down Rick’s side and over his hip. He followed the usual steps to their dance.
“Y-you’re, you’re ridicuURRPPPlous, Morty. Get y-yourself together, you
pathetic teenage piece of HHHHRRRKKKKK…” The collar tightened around his
throat, swiftly, intensely, and Morty held him there like that for a few
seconds. As Rick struggled for air, Morty leaned in and whispered to him. “This
is a n-new game, R-rick. My, my collar, m-my bitch, m-my rules.” He released
the older man, and felt how his hand moved with the leather when Rick gasped in
a lungful of air.
“Yes, M-morty, y-y-y, y-y-yours.” Morty chuckled, and resumed the soft trail of
his hand over Rick’s hip. He ran the pads of his fingers inward, pausing to
give a short tug to the grey-blue hairs leading down to Rick’s dick, and
brushed his knuckles over his grandfather’s swollen cock as it twitched with
interest. He kept his other hand on Rick’s throat, tracing his fingers under
the edge of the soft leather, feeling the contrast between the material and the
smooth skin below. A sharp pull on the D-ring had Rick sucking in another
breath, and Morty swore he could actually see Rick get harder.
“M-morty?”
The teenager froze. Rick rarely spoke out of turn, so he had him instantly
alert. Morty removed his hands from his grandfather’s body and took two steps
back. “Tell me, Rick. D-do y-y-you want me to st-st-st, to stop? I’ll stop. Y-
y-you, y-y-y-, y-you said y-you didn’t w-want to w-w-w-wear it, I should have,
should have listened. I, I’ll go now, R-rick. S-sorry. I-I-I-…”
“Jeez, Morty, n-no, not like that. I-I j-just, well, uh see, here’s a, a thing
about youUUURRGGHHr grandpa, M-morty. I uh, I REALLY like the collar. L-like, a
lot. Y-y-you follow? So uh… y-you know, I, it’s uh, it’s important t-that
you’re satisfied, M-morty, so uh…”
Morty seemed to at least realize that Rick wasn’t going to call it off, and he
pressed back up against his grandfather. Rick could feel Morty nodding as he
spoke, and the boy had returned his fingers to the sensitive skin of his neck.
“I-I-, oh fuUURGGHck it, if you keep tugging on the collar, M-morty, I’m going
to come, w-with or w-without permission. Get me?”
Morty chuckled, and was entranced when he noticed that the blush that must have
been staining Rick’s face had spread all the way to his ears and the back of
his neck, a beautiful red under the dark leather. The older man was clearly
mortified, given the number of times that he had crowed about his sexual
prowess in the past. Morty, on the other hand, was thrilled to have found
something that had Rick so hot for him.
“A-all right, R-rick. It, it’s good that you told m-me. I-I w-won’t touch your
hot little throat again until it’s time for you to come… B-but you will.”
Rick pulled air between his teeth in a short hiss. “T-turn over, R-rick. L-l-
l-, l-lean up against the, against the wall. I w-want to see you how you w-were
earlier. E-except this time, d-don’t touch your cock. G-g-get you, your,
yourself nice and open for me.” Morty shoved Rick forward, and while the older
man was positioning himself on the bed, Morty reached for the lube and tossed
it onto the pillow next to him. He stepped back from the bed, already delighted
with how degraded his grandfather looked.
“Start with, w-with two fingers. I know your slutty hole can, can take m-more
than one. B-b-but don’t take, don’t take your other hand off y-y-your, off your
neck, o-or y-your collar. A-and don’t come.” Even if it was only in the
bedroom, Rick was excellent at taking directions, and soon had two fingers
tucked inside himself. He slipped them in and out on a sensuous stroke designed
to drag everything out, never actually touching his prostate, knowing that
between the sensitive gland and the leather around his throat, he would never
be able to last.
“N-now, pull y-your collar flush with your skin. G-good boy, R-rick.” Rick
heard himself actually whine, and without waiting for permission, he shoved a
third finger in to join the first two. Fortunately, Morty didn’t feel the need
to comment. Rick was pretty sure he was seconds away from coming all over
himself without ever being touched, when Morty dove forward and ripped both of
his hands away from his body, pinning them up over his head against the wall.
“Jee, jeez Rick, l-look how desperate you are. Y-y-you NEED me to fill you, y-
you up and, and choke you, don’t y-you, you f-fucking sick, f-filthy, perverted
old slut.”
It was a good thing Rick had been liberal with the lube, because on the last
six words, Morty shoved forward into him, not stopping for the little squeaks
Rick was making. He was just as needy as Rick, really. He pushed into the older
man so hard that he could feel Rick’s body slide up the wall a bit, and he was
fascinated with watching Rick slump back down as he slowly pulled out. Morty
sat back on his heels, and positioned Rick in his lap with his legs spread. He
used his leverage to bounce Rick up and down on his cock, and he pulled Rick’s
arms behind his back to make certain he didn’t reach for his own.
In this position, Rick was basically nothing more than a rag doll. With no
leverage of his own, he was a slave to Morty’s whims, and could do nothing more
than let the teenager drive up into him. With swift strokes over his prostate,
he was so close to coming, helpless in the face of his grandson’s desire, ready
to do whatever Morty asked if it would just bring him some relief. Morty
continued to slam up into Rick, and reached one arm around his waist so he
could yank him down to meet every thrust.
It wasn’t hard for Morty to tell that Rick was getting close. He had been
steadily increasing in volume, and while he had to know he was making noise,
Morty doubted he was actually registering the words that were flowing from his
lips. “M-morty, g-god, Morty, fuck my ass, f-fucking pound me, M-morty, please,
p-p-please Morty, please let me come for you, I-I’ll be soURRRPP good, Morty,
god choke me please, MOORRTYYYY…”
Morty finally gave in, and gave Rick everything he wanted. He continued to
pound up into Rick, but he grabbed the collar with one hand and used it to drag
Rick down further on every thrust. On each stroke, Rick gagged as his air was
cut off, and his dick throbbed an angry almost-purple as he felt Morty growing
impossibly larger inside him. After a particularly vicious thrust up, Morty
stilled, not noticing that he still had the collar pulled tight around Rick’s
neck. Rick watched with tiny lights in the corners of his eyes as Morty came
inside him, the colors fading as his oxygen supply dwindled, and then Morty
must’ve noticed Rick’s situation because he let the collar fall slack. Rick had
barely begun to suck in a breath when he lost it completely, and his dick shot
spurts of come up onto his chest, with a few drops landing on the collar.
“H-holy, holy shit, M-morty.” Rick’s eyes glazed over, and Morty lifted him off
his lap to help him stretch out on the bed. He knew he had gotten a little
athletic with Rick, and that his grandfather would probably be sore in more
ways than one later. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Rick’s wrist, then
reached for his long-forgotten towel to clean them both up. As he finished
wiping himself down, he watched as Rick reached up and unbuckled the collar. He
frowned, and Rick just laughed at him.
“D-don’t worry, M-m-morty. I-I’m just earning my title.” He flashed his
grandson a wink, as he preceded to lick up the drops of cum that had hit the
collar, running his tongue over the words tooled into the leather. Morty let
out a downright feral growl as he took in the image, Rick mouthing over the
claim he had laid, “Morty’s Little Cum Slut.”
“Y-y-you’ll be lucky if, if I-I ever let y-you out of that collar again, R-
rick. T-tomorrow, I-I think I’ll get, I-I-I’ll get a padlock to go w-w-with
it.”
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!