This story is supposed to be funny. Personally, I lost my shit while writing it.
Content:
Morty/Pickle Rick
I'M PICKLE RICK, THERE IS NO GOD
Slight Mature Content...?
Morty walks into his grandfather's garage and finds something peculiar yet intriguing.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Morty sighed, walking through the lower level of his house. Everybody else, to the best of his knowledge, had left him home alone. Even his grandfather had disappeared to somewhere Morty wasn't sure of. The brunet sighed with boredom, deciding to slip off to Rick's garage. Ever since he'd come back and his mother had divorced his father, he'd been going on more adventures. It was odd that Rick would run off and leave Morty like this.
Curiously, the teenager peered into the garage, wondering if maybe Rick was just being eerily quiet today. Nope. Nothing. He wasn't here, and the hatch to the lower lab was completely shut. There was no way he was down there either. The brunet glanced over his desk, looking at the project plans for something he didn't really understand.
Huffing, Morty moved to dejectedly walk from the garage, glancing over towards Rick's work bench. Why the hell does he have- What even is that? A cucumber? A pickle? What the fuck?
Curiously, Morty approached the workbench and grabbed the thing. It was cold and firm, and odd. He flipped it over, looking at it in his hand. He thought he'd heard stifled laughter, but a quick glance around confirmed that he must be hearing things.
As Morty glanced at the object in his hand, he thought odd things. It was a fair sized object, if he were to think about it. His toys were never like this. He had a simple vibrating cock-ring and a few butt-plugs that he had yet to grow used to. He'd never actually used something like a dildo, though the object in his hand reminded him of the urge he'd had to try one.
Let's be rational here, me. This is a food object. Are those even safe? I mean, I hear girls joking about it all the time, but does it work?
I could try. Not like anybody would know. Just me being shameful again.
Morty pursed his lips, looking anxiously at the object. He flipped it over once more, inspecting it, before he shrugged and wandered to his room with it.
Rick was having trouble containing himself. He totally wanted to freak Morty the fuck out, but he wanted to know what was going through the kid's mind as he unknowingly carried Rick up to his room. Rick kept his eyes shut and lips pursed, giving off the appearance of a normal pickle, though he occasionally chanced opening his eyes to see where they were going. It was odd as Morty walked into his own room and shut the door as always, his torn posters hanging limply on the walls. He peeked around, finding that Morty had set him on the bed and grabbed his laptop. What are you doing, kid?
Morty flopped onto his bed, catching the object as it flew into the air and almost onto the floor. He pulled up the usual, watching the actors set the scene as he got comfortable, setting the laptop further down on his legs so he could get 'it' out when he was ready.
Rick didn't dare open his eyes again, knowing he was in a position to get caught in pickle form if Morty happened to glance over. However, his little pickle ears picked up on something funny. Male grunts and groans, and plenty of it. It most definitely was not coming from Morty, as the brunet didn't have a voice that low that also split off into two.
Is he watching gay porn? What the fuck, Morty... Rick found himself wanting to laugh, biting his tongue not to. Morty was watching gay porn, and Rick knew it now. He heard Morty hum in thoughtful wonder before he felt his body lifted into the air again. He heard keys click and what sounded like the last minute of the video replaying the audio. Rick had yet to know what was actually going on, not chancing a look at the screen.
Rick was lost in a moment or two. Something wet pressed against the lower part of the pickle, and he wanted to know what was going on.
Oh my God.. Rick knew what was going on the second he found half of his body submerged in something moist. The kid was practicing his BJ skills... on a hypersensitive pickle... What the fuck...
Rick heard Morty grunt and gag slightly, feeling the hot breath from his nostrils blow over the part of the pickle that would serve as Rick's neck, apparently. He wasn't sure himself, but that would qualify as the back of his neck.
Oddly enough, he found himself enjoying this. His entire body being enveloped in such a feeling was almost intoxicating. He bit his lip, keeping his eyes shut and wondering why his grandson was such a weird fuck. He felt enamel brush lightly along the part of the pickle that served as his back, sighing with the sensitivity of it all before cursing mentally. Morty hadn't heard, which was fine. As long as the little shit kept this up and didn't find out it was Rick, it would be fine.
Rick was submerged up to his neck, almost shaking with the intensity. He hadn't known being in a pickle would up his body sensitivity to such extreme levels. He almost whine in protest as he felt the brunet pull him from his mouth, holding him once more in his hand. He was mildly surprised to hear the clacking of a keyboard again before he was lifted in the air once more, hearing a zipper.
"Woah, there!" Morty jumped, looking around. "Wh-What?!" He squeaked, looking for whoever was there. "Down here dipshit." Morty knew that voice, glancing down fearfully. "Turn me over." Morty obeyed, finding a face on the pickle now. "R-Rick?!" He shouted, dropping the object onto his bed. "Ow! Dammit, M-Morty!" Rick yelled, smacking onto the corner of the laptop. He laughed after a moment, "You watch g-gay urp porn!" He taunted Morty, wanting to do a victory dance but still being completely immobilized in his current state.
Morty flushed a deep rouge, wondering what he was supposed to say now. Apparently, he had missed the part where it was Rick, not just a pickle. He fixed his fly, shutting his laptop down and lifting the pickle again. "What the hell, Morty?" Rick laughed. Morty groaned in frustration, feeling as though he might cry from the embarrassment right now. "You're never gonna urp live this down!" the pickle bellowed. "You urp just crammed my entire body in yo-your throat, so eugh kudo-kudos, but holy shit!" Rick laughed again, his picklish eyes watering. "Get that for me, would you?" He requested between laughs. Morty rolled his eyes, wiping none to kindly at Rick's. "C-Could you no-not? S-Seriously? I-It's al-al-already bad enough a-as-s it is," Morty grumbled.
Rick laughed again, leading the brunet to become more frustrated than before. "Sh-Shut up," he grumbled, still gripping the object. "What the hell were you gonna d- urp do next? Shove a pickle up your ass?" Rick howled with raucous laughter, flopping onto his side when Morty released the green asshat. He growled with frustration, setting his laptop down and sighing.
"You totally were!" Rick cackled, his laugh almost insane. "Ta-Take me down urp stairs, s-so I can transfer back, Morty. I-I-I gotta tell urp this to-to everybody!" Rick laughed non-stop, frustrating the brunet further. He got quite an idea as Rick cackled, lifting the pickle again.
Rick immediately stopped laughing when Morty ran his tongue completely along the backside of the pickle, shivering almost instantly. Morty laughed, staring now as Rick shuddered. "Take me down urp stairs, Mo-Morty," Rick grumbled after a minute. No more laughs. It was Morty's turn to laugh, realizing that he literally controlled Rick right now. "N-No," he replied.
Rick stared curiously at the brunet now, tiny eyes widening as he saw his lower half delving back into the warmth of his mouth. His eyes crossed and his mouth fell open, tongue to the side as his hypersensitive body was enveloped again. Morty had quite the idea, as Rick wasn't sure why he had missed the small aspect of body sensitivity as he had drawn up the schematics for this.
The brunet had the pickle all the way to the next again, the pickle writhing almost.
Rickle almost couldn't breathe, feeling almost high as every nerve ending was attacked with pleasurable sensations in his pickle body. "T-Take me dow-downs-s-" Rickle tried, stopping instantly as Morty's upper teeth dragged very lightly over the front of the pickle before he was back in the brunet's mouth. "Ngh.." Rick bit his lip, hard enough to draw pickle juice before he realized he was close enough to the brunet now. He bit hard on the larger lip near his face, drawing a squeal as Morty ejected the object almost instantaneously from his mouth. "Wh-What the fuck, R-Rick?!" Morty yelled, pressing a finger to his bleeding lip. "Downst-stairs," Rick growled, panting slightly.
Morty raised a brow and Rickle realized his words had just ended him. "Morty," he warned. "Don't you urp fucking dare." He glared at Morty, his expression falling as the brunet lifted him to the nightstand. "D-Downstairs?" he questioned with a laugh.
Rick faced the wall for a while, listening to all the shuffling and eventual gasping going on behind him. He stared, horrified, at the torn posters on the brunets walls before he felt himself lifted back up. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to be disgusted and see his grandson that exposed after the simulation. That was the one time he 'tolerated' it. He wouldn't now.
"Morty, don't you fucking dare," he repeated, growling in warning. He was back in the brunet's mouth as he felt his tongue slathering his body, shivering and assuming that maybe Morty had something other than what Rick thought in mind.
He knew he was wrong as he was pulled from the brunet's mouth, covered in saliva that was no doubt in place of a form of lubrication Morty needed. Rick almost screamed when he felt his lower end press against flesh. "Morty," he warned lowly, "don't you urp do it. Take me downstairs s-so I can urp transfer back and kill y-you."
"N-No," Morty repeated his earlier denial, panting lightly from the exertion of his past activities.
"M-Morty!" Rick yelled, wishing the damn kid would stop already as his lower end pressed where he knew no part of Rick should ever go. But it was so tight around his hypersensitive body.. so warm.. NO. Rick tried to squirm and wriggle out, only pulling soft sounds from Morty that made his ears want to cry. Morty panted heavily, pressing Rickle in and out of his lower extremeties. The pickle wanted to get out and maybe just roll down the stairs and to the garage, but his body was alive with electrifying tingles. He bit his lip, his mouth flooded with more pickle juice as he tried not to make a sound. He was not enjoying this, he reminded himself. His body was just reacting. But a voice in his head said this was rather enjoyable.
Remind me to kill that voice, Rick thought.
"R-Rickle," Morty panted with a laugh. Rick was too lost in the sensation drowning him to care about how weird that was, shutting his eyes as his body was literally consumed by feelings he hated to admit he was experiencing. It was like every inch of his pickly flesh was being consumed by a million orgasmic episodes, and he made a mental not to adjust that for the next time he decided to screw around with pickles, and not in the way Morty was.
Rick knew that, if he were in his actual body, and he wasn't doing Morty, he'd be near finishing. He thought momentarily about that, wondering if he would just be used until Morty was done.
His thoughts were confirmed, though he hadn't expected Morty to help Rick find anything new about his pickled prototype.
The brunet gasped sharply, tightening around the pickle. That send an entirely odd sensation coursing through the pickled genius, having him bite his lip hard enough to most likely take a chunk out of the pickle.
Morty's eyes snapped open as he forced his hips in the air, having reached his finish all on his own. Mid orgasmic episode, he felt an odd sensation. Somehow, pickle juice secreted and his ass was just full of it. It was all pickly and cold, and Morty just about died. He finished, settling back onto the bed and removing the pickled genius now.
His room was going to smell like pickles forever now, as he thought about it.