Archive of Our Own

"Put'em way up inside there, as far as they can fit. Th-these seeds aren't gonna get through customs unless they're in someone's rectum, Morty, and they'll fall right out of mine." — Rick said, tone increasingly urgent — "I've done this too many times, Morty. I mean, you're young. Y-y-you've got your whole life ahead of you, and your anal cavity is still taut, yet malleable. You got to do it for grandpa, Morty. Y- burp you've got to put these seeds inside your butt."

"In my butt?" Morty repeated, this time more scared than incredulous

"Come on, Morty. Please, Morty. You have to do it, Morty."

"Oh, man." Morty finally said, accepting his fate.

And that was it, just a couple of well constructed sentences, the right amount of despair in his tone, and Rick made Morty surrender his bodily autonomy, accept to be penetrated by two seeds bigger than fists and sharper than anything remotely safe.

"Ok Morty, good boy, there you go."

"But, b-but Rick... Uum, how should I do that? I-I don't think they're gonna fit." despair was creeping back into his voice as he felt the seeds now in his hands. They were rough, the bumps were sharp. His fingers hurt slightly from holding them and he was afraid of what it would do to his sensitive ass. And then there was the size. Morty could barely hold a seed in his hand and there were two of them. 

He turned pleading, desperate eyes to his grandpa, hoping that maybe he too would see the impossibility of the attempt and they'd just go home empty handed. But hope was a futile thing, because this was Rick Sanchez, and impossible wasn't in his vocabulary.

The old man looked sternly at Morty before sighing and holding out his hand. He seemed slightly disappointed as he took back the seeds and set them on the ground near him, before sitting on the base of the megatree and roughly pulling his grandson by the arm to bend him over his knee. Rick proceeded to pull down Morty's pants and underwear, pulling his cheeks apart and spitting on his hole. It would have been sexual if it wasn't so methodical and passionless. Rick clearly wasn't doing this for pleasure, but merely as a means to an end, and as he looked into those cold eyes Morty almost felt guilty and ridiculous for feeling violated. He kept still and silent, just waiting for what came next, and when he felt a finger breaching him he knew his fate had been sealed. What could he do anyway? There was nowhere to run to, he wouldn't survive an hour without Rick. And could he really accuse the man who had just healed his legs of rape? A man who had asked him for help and who seemed to not only tolerate, but need him? Sure, maybe he was only needed as a tool, but it was still better than being ignored or cast away, still better than anything he'd known in the past.

A second finger, this time accompanied by a sharp pang, pulled Morty out of his thoughts and he couldn't stop a pained moan from escaping his lips.

"Tch, s-so sensitive. Just relax Morty, don't be a little bitch."

Rick started scissoring his fingers, gently feeling the inner walls of Morty's rectum. At some point he'd added lube (Why does he even have that on hand? briefly crossed Morty's mind) and was going slowly enough that it wasn't really bad, just weird. He must've known that despite being a horny, constantly masturbating teen, Morty had never had anything in his ass before.

Rick was silent, his face serious as he slipped yet another finger into the boy. He paused before moving, to give the kid time to adjust but also to still the beating of his heart and will his cock to stay soft. This was not the time or the place. He had to pace himself with perverting his Morty. Going too fast might scare him away, make things harder. Morty had to believe that Rick wasn't interested, for now.

Then again, the kid was so impressionable, could he be convinced a cock was the best way to stretch him in preparation for the megaseeds?

Rick contemplated the idea as he crooked his fingers, pushing on Morty's prostate and making him squeal.

"Well, guess you're ready for it now" - the words pulled Morty out of his own head and made him realise he'd been spacing, submerged in the overwhelming feelings of shame. He turned his head as much as he could to look at Rick, at himself, and gasped when he saw Rick's wrist coming out of him. There was now a whole fist inside, and it didn't hurt, it felt good. What did that say about him?

But before he could linger in thought much longer the fist was pulling out and a seed was poking at him. Bigger still than Rick's hand, but more importantly harder and rougher. He started to squirm but a strong hand on his lower back kept him still as the seed was slowly pushed inside of him. It ached and it took so, so long to go in, but finally he felt it was wholly inside, his hole closing slightly. Morty took a deep breath, relieved that it was over, but then there was another. Shit, there were two of them. He'd totally forgotten. And now it wasn't just the pain of being stretched, he could feel the first seed being pushed deeper and deeper inside, more than he thought possible.

When the ordeal was over, Rick helped Morty stand straight, and tried not to stare at the way his belly was bulging even more than his crotch, or at the kid's flushed face. Thankfully Morty wasn't in the state of mind to notice much of anything right then.

Later, once he was alone, Rick would think back of this moment and wonder all the things he could do to this boy given enough time, all the things he could make him accept, the things he could make him want.

Coming back to this home had definitely been the right choice. He was going to have fun.