The President's Secretary (Evil Morty X Reader)

The Massacre at the Protest

A flash of blinding daylight meets your eyes as the door opens. Morty stands in the doorway as he throws a very small pile of clothes at you.
"Get dressed." He demands. You stand up and pick up the clothes, the cold chains of your collar's leash swaying against your body. The clothes he gave you are... skimpy, black lace lingerie?

You've gotta be shitting me!!
These are barely even clothes!
Let me be naked instead!
I don't even know how to put this shit on...

But somehow, your body puts on the underwear. For some reason, it fits your body way too well, like you've worn it before or it was tailored to your exact size. Morty picks up the chain and walks over to his desk, pulling you with him. He sits in his chair and shoots you a glare.
"Sit." He commands. You kneel on the carpet and sit on the floor. Morty twirls the chain around his fingers, reminding you of that one sci-fi movie with the princess and the fat guy.

What was that movie called again?

You glance to your left and see the closet where you were being kept. On the floor next to you sits a dog bowl with your name on it filled with what else but whiskey.

Oh, now he's just mocking me.
That's just...
Not okay.
Low blow, asshole.
Not. Cool.

You can swear you hear muffled chanting coming from outside the building. You look at the door, and a Guard Rick runs into the office in a panic. Morty stands up, yanking your chain a little.
"Mr. President." The Rick salutes, out of breath.
"What's going on?" Morty asks.
"In the front courtyard, outside the gate." The Rick looks at the closed window. Morty turns around and opens the window, even more daylight flooding into the room. You shut your eye tightly and turn your head away. Wait... you turn your head away. It takes you a moment, but you can move your head and neck!! While Morty is distracted by what's going on, you twist your neck around in ways you haven in... you don't even know how long it's been! Your quiet celebration of just collarbone-down paralysis is interrupted when you hear something.

"FREE {Y/N}!!"
"{Y/N}S ARE PEOPLE TOO!!"
"{Y/N} RIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS!!"
"EQUALITY FOR {Y/N}S!!!"
"IMPEACH THE PRESIDENT!!!"
"WE WANT ANSWERS!!"

You lift your head up and look out the window, and what you see shocks you.
A literal sea of protesting Ricks and Mortys in the Capital's courtyard, holding signs and shouting into megaphones. They... know about you. They... they care about you.
"There's got to be over a thousand of them," Morty mutters through gritted teeth, "and they're trying to get over the gate."
"Mr. President, if I may," the Rick speaks up, "you've been using this {Y/N} for almost six years, and the public found out around four and a half years ago. They're demanding answers. It might be time to address the..."
Morty slams his fist on the desk, causing everything in the office to jump.
"I will NOT address the public." Morty snaps. "Activate Plan B. Lethal force."
The Rick gasps. "L-lethal!?"
"You seem surprised. Like we haven't done this before. Just tell the news that it was terrorists, the public believes everything. They'll be none the wiser. Now, did I stutter?" Morty glares at the Rick, causing him to salute and run out of the room.
Morty snaps his fingers and pulls your chain, making you sit on his lap. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls your bottom uncomfortably close to his crotch. If you physically could, you would squirm in discomfort. Morty forces your face towards the window and makes you watch the protest. You surprisingly resist all temptation to head butt Morty's ugly face in with your newfound neck movability.
"Now watch what happens when people try to oppose me..." Morty whispers in your ear, sending a motionless chill down your spine. Right as Morty finishes his sentence, muffled gunshots ring out. The sea of protesters disperse like ants, while most of them collapse on the pavement. You stare at the scene below in unadulterated horror.

How... could he...
They... did nothing wrong...
That... that MONSTER!!
That settles it.
He dies at my hands, one way or another.