Wynonna Earp: Twelve Inches (Patreon)

Waverly was seated. She was in the middle of the barn, plopped down next to a load-bearing wooden beam. Her hands had been tied behind her back, roped around the beam to hold her in place. She could lean against the beam, relax that way, but the flipside was that she—or whatever—could drive her head against the beam. Maybe she could break it and slip loose. Maybe she could just crack her skull open and kill herself. Either way, Wynonna kept an eye on her. And at the same time, she tried not to keep an eye on her, because every time she saw those dark eyes…

It was her sister.

No more waiting. Wynonna knew what she had to do. She’d heard the demon taunt her enough times. But she thought there might be another way. Only no one could come up with one and she couldn’t keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. She needed this thing out of Waverly. She needed her Waverly back. She needed Waverly smiling and dancing and kissing Nicole again.

There was still enough of Waverly in there to look at her and see just how much she still had to convince herself. “It’s okay, Wynonna. I know it’s the only way. Just do it, okay? Get it over with.”

Wynonna bit her lip. “I’m gonna buy you an ice cream cone after, baby girl.”

Then the other Waverly came around, the black-eyed Waverly, and it just laughed at how pathetic it was that Wynonna was trying to pretend she was sure there was an after.

Wynonna walked up to it, her feet going from the resounding thuds of the wooden floor to the slight crackle of the straw covering. She wondered if having that under Waverly’s legs softened her uncomfortable position. Or did they poke through her jeans and prickle her, make her even more uncomfortable? Wynonna didn’t want to think of that. She just wanted Waverly better.

She took Peacemaker out of its holder and held the barrel against Waverly’s cheek and knew it would burn and knew she would scream, but when Waverly did, she pulled back and hated herself as she saw the blistering red mark on Waverly’s skin, the smoke hissing up like from a brand.

It faded in a moment. Magic, not real, not real in any way that mattered.

“It’s okay, Wynonna,” Waverly said. “I’m sorry I screamed… please keep going?”

Wynonna knew she should, but she couldn’t help but hesitate. No amount of rationalizing in the world could stop her from thinking it was Waverly, that she’d hurt Waverly…

And Waverly just kept going, like it didn’t matter, like she didn’t matter, like a good little Earp, and Wynonna hated her family and that name and everything in the world but her sister. “You have to put it in my mouth, Wynonna. Make me take it. Make me swallow it. That’s the only way…”

Wynonna held Peacemaker up. It was glowing red with sigils, shaking in her hand, and Waverly was trembling too. But her mouth drifted open, her dry lips getting further and further apart, her tongue inside, almost cute in how she had it pressed down out of the way. Wynonna pushed the muzzle forward—it was buzzing in her fingers, the butt kicking against the bones of her hand, it felt wild, out of control. She brought the muzzle between Waverly’s lips and it just fit into them and she pushed it forward a little bit, forward a little bit. It didn’t seem to hurt Waverly anymore—no hissing, no crackling—just a groaned discomfort from her sister, an act of will Wynonna could tell was being made. Suddenly, Waverly snapped her lips shut, closing her teeth on the twelve-inch barrel.

“Waverly,” Wynonna said patiently, compassionately. “You need to open, okay? You need to take more in. I think it’s working, but there needs to be more, alright?”

Waverly smiled around the barrel. Her eyes were black. Her nostrils were flaring. It wanted Wynonna to break Waverly’s teeth before it let her go.

Wynonna ran her free hand down Waverly’s cheek instead. It was overwarm, dankly sweaty, but at least it was the sister she remembered. The one she’d hugged, the one she’d slept beside. What she was fighting wasn’t her, it was something wearing her.

“I need you to open up, Waverly,” Wynonna insisted. “Right now.”

The thing’s smile widened. Wynonna could even see it in Waverly’s stolen eyes. Now it was thinking that Wynonna wouldn’t go through with it, that it wasn’t getting an eviction notice after all.

Wynonna’s free hand lashed out and she slapped Waverly, driving her head a little to the side. Waverly let out a pained whimper—hers, really hers—and then a distressed moan as Wynonna caught her hair and wrenched it in the other direction.

“I said open, Waverly! Don’t disobey me! I’m your sister and I know what’s best!”

Some combination of being cowed and sisterly affection made Waverly part her lips, let Wynonna push Peacemaker in once more. She heard Waverly gag and slowed down, letting Waverly get used to having the cold steel in her mouth, penetrating her throat. She petted Waverly’s hair again, reminding her she was there, no matter how the demon tried to block them off from each other.

“That’s a good girl,” Wynonna whispered softly. “That’s it. Take it. I know you can do it. Just swallow. Swallow for me.”

Waverly hacked and gurgled—Wynonna could see the protrusion in her throat—but somewhere in the wet noises was a gulp and the pressure that warned Wynonna off from pushing more of the Buntline down Waverly’s gullet went away bit by bit. It let her ease the gunbarrel into Waverly’s throat. Inch by inch.

Waverly’s eyes were her own again. Wynonna could see them flutter with pain, with discomfort, with anxiety, but then she blinked and Waverly was looking at her reassuringly. Trying to tell Wynonna with her eyes to keep going, that she was fine. Wynonna smiled bitterly. Only Waverly would fight through a demon to let her tormentor know it was alright.

“Almost done,” Wynonna said, watching the gun’s cylinder loom towards Waverly’s widely stretched lips. It was almost there, and surely no one could expect Waverly to swallow that, could they? 

She pushed as much as she could in anyway, getting Waverly’s lips stretched wide around the cylinder before she stopped. There was a resounding finality to this latest pressure that resisted the barrel, and Wynonna wouldn’t risk going any further and doing damage to that lovely voice.

“Just be a good girl and suck on it,” Wynonna told her. “It’s working, I can tell. As soon as I pull it out, you’ve got a hot deputy nursing you back to health and all the waffles you can eat. Breakfast in bed, all day long. That sound good, baby girl?”

Waverly didn’t answer, of course. She just spread her legs, opening them wide until the seams inside her thighs was pulled flush to her crotch. Wynonna gulped. It was a provocative move. She could see how Waverly had gotten herself a hot redhead girlfriend with handcuffs. But, college and certain amateur video productions inside, it wasn’t the sort of thing Wynonna wanted aimed at her.

She pulled back on the Buntline and Waverly opened her mouth wide to relinquish it, apparently agreeing that it had done all that it could.

“It’s okay, Wynonna. I can take it. Whatever it takes, okay? I just need… you need to go lower.”

Wynonna bit her lip. She’d been afraid of that. All this magic stuff always seemed to end up at the hoohah. Setting Peacemaker aside, she unbuckled Waverly’s jeans and pried them down off her waist…

“You know I’m enjoying it, right?” Despite herself, Waverly’s words made Wynonna snap her gaze up. She stared into jet-black eyes. “I’m such a dirty whore, you know. I can’t wait for you to put that inside me.”

“Don’t listen to it, Waverly,” Wynonna retorted. “You’re a good girl, okay, you’re such a good girl…”

She tugged Waverly’s jeans away from her hips, then her panties, and she smelled Waverly, saw her glistening with arousal. The demon chortled and rubbed her legs together.

“It’s just your body reacting,” Wynonna said, “it’s purely physical…”

“Put it in,” the demon said. “She wants it. You want it.” Her voice shifted, lightened into Waverly’s. “And it’s okay to be turned on, really it is, you’ve done so much for me. If I can make you feel good, that’s only fair…”

Wynonna brought the gun between Waverly’s legs and pushed the muzzle against her sex and felt barely any resistance at all as it yielded, as it opened, virtually sucking the barrel in, Wynonna had to exert so little pressure on it. Waverly cooed and moaned, the pale muscles of her thighs clenching and thrumming as she was invaded. Wynonna had her hand on Waverly’s leg, to steady herself as she leaned over Waverly and… penetrated her. She could feel Waverly’s muscles strumming like shockwaves going through her body.

“It’s okay, Waverly,” she said. “You only have to take a little more… just a little more…”

Through her shirt, Wynonna could see the muscles of Waverly’s belly following suit, pinching inward, rolling out, undulating as she thrust herself as best she could into Wynonna’s invasion of her body. Her hair was falling over her face, her breasts subtly jiggling, everything about her alluring and sexual. Wynonna could see her heaving breath stirring her hair away from her mouth, her flickering eyes rolling back in her head and they weren’t black.

“I can take it, Wynonna.” It was Waverly’s voice, but Wynonna tried not to care, not to hear it. “Just keep going… I can take it… take it… take it…!”

Suddenly Wynonna’s mouth flew open, her whole body shocked upward, breasts straining against her top, head thrown back against the beam with a dull thud, a squeal coming from her in abbreviated waves, cut off and then choking back out of her with pulsing regularity. She was coming. Wynonna could see her gasp and gape and shake as she came.

Peacemaker went still and cool in Wynonna’s hand, which she could only assume meant job done—it did the same thing whenever she polished off a Reverent. Wynonna eased it out as slowly and as carefully as possible, as if she could make up for what she’d done now by being gentle with Waverly.

“Oww…” Waverly breathed, with the simpering girlishness that could only be her sister. Waverly was all of twelve years old when she got hurt, no matter how hard she acted the brave little soldier.

“I’m sorry, baby girl, I’m so sorry.”

“Not that,” Waverly said. “My head. I bumped it on the… thing.”

Wynonna let out a weak laugh as she struggled to get Waverly’s bottoms up her leg. “I’m sorry. We’ll get some ice on it.”

“Uh-huh… thank you, Wynonna.”

Wynonna flushed, cheeks burning, and wished Waverly wouldn’t express any gratitude for what she’d done, wouldn’t even remember it. She reached around Wynonna to untie her hands, and inadvertently brought herself right up next to Wynonna’s body. She could practically hear Wynonna’s heart racing still, the high, hard pitch of her breath, the sweaty heat that radiated from her like a muggy day through an open door. Waverly looked like she felt, every time Wynonna had been fucked—when it was a really good fuck, at least. The kind that left her half in love.

Wynonna pulled the last cord out of the knot and then backed off. Waverly took a deep breath, putting an end to the exertion she was carrying.

“We’re never going to talk about that again, are we?” Waverly asked.

Wynonna shook her head.

“Okay.”

***

It was like Wynonna couldn’t stop stroking Peacemaker’s shaft. Every time she thought of putting away the washcloth, she reminded herself of just how dirty it had gotten. Getting demon spit all over it, then… other things. Better than going the other way around. Better for Waverly, at least.

But then, every time she felt its hardness in her hand, the sheer length of it, she had to wonder just how good it had felt. And how it tasted, had tasted, when it was still… dirty.

Not the weirdest thing she’d ever gone down on, after all.

She kept washing it. It had to be clean. She couldn’t let anyone detect even a hint of what had happened, not one hint.

***

“I think I know what it is,” Nicole said, giving the six-inch gift box a shake. “Or else I really have the wrong idea about what ‘Bada Bing, Bada Dong’ sells.”

Waverly just smiled at her. “Open it.”

Nicole did. She’d been half-right. It was even more phallic than the box that had contained it, but it’d been delivered folded in half. Straightened out, it was easily a foot in length.

“Babe,” Nicole said, “I’m a gold star. I’m not sure I can take all this.”

“It’s not for you. Well, not exactly. It’s more for you to use on me.”

“And are you sure you can take that much?”

“Oh yes. Very sure.”