Sundown Sinners Ch. 13

Chapter Thirteen: The Mechanical Men

The "belly of the beast", as it turned out, happened to be a very spacious warehouse in a small township to the East. It wasn't necessarily a clean space, nor was it somewhere that you could find an easy place to sit, but it wasn't nearly as horrible as I had been imagining.

"So... what exactly are we doing here?" I asked, glancing around at the rusting sheet-metal walls. They seemed to be decorated with every type of tool, cable, or fastener the engineers had on hand. The real decorations, which happened to be giant posters and paintings of the trains these men worked on, sat in a neat stack against the wall, fading in the afternoon sun when the door was left open on hot days.

"To ask questions." Tumble mumbled, glancing anywhere but my eyes. He had a habit of not looking at people. Instead, he busied himself with his twitching fingers, which at the moment were occupied by a nut and bolt that he screwed and unscrewed with practiced ease. He reminded me a bit of a scared rabbit sitting on the lawn of an occupied house. With one twitch from the humans trying to snap a picture, he would certainly dash under the porch, never to be seen again.

"Ask who questions?" I gestured around the empty warehouse. I could practically see the dust particles in the air, flying about like tiny, angry gnats. "No one seems to be around. Do all the engineers take lunch at once?"

Instead of answering, Tumble stepped politely around me and led me to a small office. The door barely hung on the frame, which seemed to be secured with clamps rather than anything structural. I shuddered. If this was how they treated their office, how did they build trains? Or, did they just use up all of their expertise on their work, and their office got whatever was left? I took a deep breath through my nose and regretted it instantly. There was a thick odor of tobacco smoke, which seemed to be covering up something much more pungent and heavy. I was grateful that I couldn't get Black Lung from a video game.

When Tumble attempted to knock on the door, it swung open to reveal a man twice our height and size. He wore a stained shirt that was torn and rolled up to his elbows, along with dirt-caked trousers to match his grubby appearance. He was bald and greasy, a smudge of brown at the edge of his expansive frown. Tumble made do with knocking the frame instead, despite our host standing in front of us.

"What are you up to, then?" The man asked, eyeing me suspiciously. He seemed to completely glance over Tumble, as if the skinny, awkward man didn't exist.

"Me?" I asked weakly. I straightened my posture and attempted to put a smile on my face. If this turned ugly, I cringed to think of what would have to happen. After all, my Intimidation skill was still at a whopping zero. In truth, Seduction was really my only chance if it came to smoothing things over. For once, I really, really didn't want to fuck this guy. I hoped there would be no conflict.

"Yes, you." He grunted, reaching forward. I expected him to pull me up by the collar of my starched white shirt and pummel me into the ground. Instead, he reached past me and grabbed a rag that sat on a counter. It was just as filthy and grease-stained as everything else in the shop, but the man wiped his hands on it anyway. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

"Uh... we're here to ask you some questions, if that's alright." I answered, shuffling closer to Tumble. Without even trying to be subtle, Tumble took another step away from me and the man. The man didn't seem to notice. Instead, he squinted at me suspiciously, as if I was telling him an obvious lie. The more he stared, the more it felt like I was a child pretending I didn't break an expensive vase. I didn't like it.

"Please?" I added weakly.

The man frowned to himself before glancing around the shop. "I don't see what you'd need me for. You already have the most brilliant engineer in your posse." Without looking at Tumble, he gestured in his direction with a nod of his bald head. I glanced at the quiet boy and raised an eyebrow.

"Be that as it may," I started, realizing I didn't know much about Tumble at all. I remembered them saying something about him and railroad engineers way back when we first met, but that was awhile ago now. With everything that had happened in the last few days, I barely registered his existence at all. "Our questions are less about the trains and more about the railroad."

The man's frown deepened as he regarded me. At last, he glanced at Tumble. To my surprise, he kept his gaze lowered to the ground instead of making eye contact. His body language seemed to soften slightly, as if he were afraid of scaring Tumble away.

"Why are you two poking around in that business? Don't you know it's not a smart idea?" He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "You could wind up dead, you know."

"We're aware." Tumble responded almost dryly. His gaze was on the bolt in his hands. He seemed to have grown bored of screwing the nut onto it. It was gone now, but he still showed his enraptured attention to the bolt by running his fingernail slowly in a spiral along its surface.

"But, this is a life or death question." I added. "We need to know some things about them, or else people could be hurt."

The man immediately turned to face me again, his expression suddenly incredulous.

"Keep your voice down! Do you want us all to be thrown in a pit together?" He looked like he wanted to hit me. I backed up a step. Surprisingly, Tumble took a step toward us and poked his bolt into the man's arm gently. He looked back to Tumble before sighing.

"Look, just shut it, okay? I don't have any information for you. None of this is safe." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but there ain't no way I'm risking my skin for you two chuckle-heads. Even if I do owe you one." I have a feeling that last comment was meant for Tumble alone. I really needed to get the backstory on this place.

I wracked my brain for something to say, wondering if there was any way for me to salvage this. This guy was scared. He clearly had information we needed, and he was fully aware of what the railroad could do to him if he gave it to us. In truth, I was at a loss for words.

"What about if we owe you one?" I blurted out in a last-ditch attempt.

The man began to shake his head again, but Tumble held his hand up politely to stop him.

"No, he has a point. Haven't you been looking for someone to test out PORTER?" My eyebrows shot up at Tumble's words.

"Porter?" I asked, but was immediately spoken over.

"He would do it?" The man asked excitedly, his demeanor almost completely different. Suspicion began to creep up inside of me. His reaction was too immediate... something was wrong here.

"He's had a bit of experience. He would be a viable test subject. He might have some unique insights." Tumble didn't look at me as he spoke, as if I wasn't even there. It sort of infuriated me. But, he never seemed to make any eye contact at all. Was he just scared of other people?

"Insights into what?" I asked, but my words were cut off almost immediately again.

"By experience, you mean how experienced? Do you mean for me to believe that he is performing these activities monthly? Weekly?" The bald man asked, also ignoring my presence entirely.

"Daily." Tumble corrected. "Sometimes replicating his research multiple times in a twenty-four hour period. It's impressive."

"So he has a naturally higher stamina?" The engineer wandered over to a wall, where he began to draw along a large sheet of paper with a thick pencil. He was making calculations that I immediately didn't understand. "How long would you say he can perform at peak condition? What is the cooldown period? Have you observed the intensity?"

Still confused about what they were discussing, I kept my mouth meekly shut as Tumble answered every question.

"His peak condition is reserved for short bursts of athleticism, but he is very... elastic." Tumble bit the inside of his cheek as he spoke, deep in concentration as the man scribbled numbers. "The longest I've observed was an intense row lasting nearly two minutes. It was quite impressive. The cooldown period varies based on arousal, but is generally minimal compared to most subjects. He can handle a variety of intensities, ranging from gentle to aggressive, with ease."

"Arousal?" My head jerked up. "Are you guys talking about how often I have sex?" My cheeks flushed red. "And what do you mean 'you've observed'," I made quotation marks with my fingers around the rather problematic phrasing. "Where the fuck have you been observing from? This shit is kinda private, man!"

"If it's private," Tumble's voice was just as chilly and contemplative as ever. "Why perform these acts outside? In front of an entire township, even? Surely, privacy means different things to you and I."

I opened my mouth to respond, but didn't have a good comeback. He got me there. Sure, in the real world I would have never had sex in front of an entire town of people. And yet, because this was a game, I had a foursome in front of at least thirty strangers. With strangers. Maybe this game was turning me into a bit of a slut. Then again, I might have been into this sort of thing before the shackles of reality were removed. Wasn't enjoying strangers looking at my naked body how all of this started?

"So, you'd allow observers?" The engineer piped up, disregarding my obvious anger.

I glanced up at him, then back to the cool-as-a-cucumber cowboy in front of me. Clearly, the game wanted to perform as I had been doing. I found it less and less likely that Bertie wasn't sitting on the other side of this thing, pulling the strings. With a sigh, I shrugged helplessly at the bald man.

"Look, if it gets us the information we need, I'll do whatever you want, okay? So, what is it? Do you guys want me to screw some dude named Porter in front of you?"

The engineer's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy factory being offered endless free samples. Maybe that was his name? But, no... that didn't make sense. Tumble had said 'haven't you been looking for someone to test out Porter?' That implied that Porter was not this man, but someone else. But, why did they need to test him out? Was he some kid they were hazing? Was he some virgin they wanted to turn into the guild bitch? I supposed it didn't really matter.

"I'll go tell the others and prepare the experiment. Feel free to wash up or whatever it is you do. There's a well in the back." He gestured over his shoulder with a jerk of his thumb before he practically ran past me into a room at the end of the hall. If I had guessed, I would say he was going to some kind of small bunkhouse for the working men. I hadn't realized it was already getting so late.

"Who exactly is Porter?" I asked Tumble with a groan as I slumped my shoulders. With my luck, he would be a six-and-a-half-foot-tall man with a dick the size of a balled up fist. At this rate, I would be a loose sock puppet before long. The thought made me shudder, even as my dick twitched in my pants at the thought of someone fisting me.

"PORTER is not a person." Tumble replied. "It's an acronym. It stands for Programmable Operative for Railroad-Based Tactile Engagement and Relief."

I ran the words through my head over and over, sounding them out to myself. Programmable Operative for Railroad-Based what? I knew that tactile meant touch, right? So... something that is programmable for railroad touch and relief? It kinda sounded like some hyper-specific tool or body massager. Hell, maybe it was a simulation inside of a simulation?

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked as heads began to peak through the doorway to stare at me. Each of the men had expressions of such wide-eyed curiosity and awe that I was beginning to feel a bit like a celebrity. I never realized how creeped out celebrities must feel.

"They look like they want to eat me." I mumbled, pointing in the direction of the railroad engineers.

"They don't want to eat you." Tumble responded as if he were a teacher scolding a particularly stupid student. "They want to study you. I'm sure the lack of brothels in this town are really hurting their research subjects and volunteer rate. That, and Southern Pacific doesn't provide funding for personal projects, even if they are for the benefit of the employees."

"I think that's why people unionize." I joked awkwardly.

"People unionize because the conditions of their work environment are unsustainable to life. These men are paid decently well and are given food to eat and a place to sleep. There is no reason for them to unionize." Tumble stuffed the bolt into his pocket and now pulled out the nut, placing it on his finger like a ring. He spun it around in a lazy circle.

I didn't even try to retort as a man appeared at my right elbow, grinning from ear to ear. He was a bit more handsome than that of the bald engineer, his cheeks dappled with stubble and his hair cut short. He had a more muscular frame, too. All he was missing was a firefighter helmet and he could have made the cover page of the Sexy Man calendars my mother always got for Christmas from her friends.

"Thank you very much for helping with this experiment. My name is Percy. Can I ask you some questions before we start?" Percy spoke in a quick, quippy manner, but he was gentle as he led me by my arm and the small of my back to a sitting area. There were forms sitting on the table, a pen beside them.

From there, I was asked more than a few questions pertaining to my age, health, and overall lifestyle. A lot of the answers to these questions were unanswerable and had to be supplemented by Tumble, who stated to the group of engineers that I had amnesia. I cringed at his blunt announcement, but how I was answering questions made my condition obvious enough. After all, if I was asked what my normal diet was, I was inclined to say ramen cups and Diet Coke. Neither, of which, was easy to find in the Wild West.

"Thank you so much, this really helps a lot." Percy stood abruptly, holding his carefully scribbled notes as if the paper were made of gold. "Truly, you're making history with your volunteering. I promise you, you won't regret this!" He bowed his head slightly as he spoke. The more I watched the reactions of the men around me, the more I knew that this was going to be fucked up.

Finally, the bald man came back and threw me over his shoulder without an ounce of consent. I cried out in surprise, flailing my arms and legs, and he just pat me on the ass like a misbehaving child.

"None of that! It's time for you to fulfill your role!" He announced as he dragged me from the room. Tumble followed behind us. He was the only one not carrying a pad of paper to record notes, but for some reason, I felt like he was just as excited about observing me as everyone else was.

The room we entered was adjacent to the presumed bunkhouse doors, and it seemed to be a wide room with a pile of junk resting in the center. Men filed into chairs set up around that pile of junk in a wide semi-circle, eagerly whispering about what was to come. I cast a weary glance at Tumble, but unlike Jacks or Caleb, he was not the type to reassure anyone.

Instead, he walked over to the pile of metal and moved some things aside until he revealed what looked like a chair. I was stood right in front of the observers, where I was then told to strip. I swallowed hard, glancing around at all of the men. Some were handsome, muscular-looking engineers with full heads of hair and all of their teeth. Most were not.

Knowing that I wasn't going to get anywhere by resisting, I began to undo the buttons of my shirt. My fingers twitched and slipped along each button as if they were greased, but I forced myself to calm down. I didn't know what was so different about this situation versus when I was being threatened with hanging. Maybe the only thing that was missing was the element of danger? For some reason, this was the first time in the game that sex felt a currency to me. Then again, I had no idea what this machine could do. Maybe, it could change my mind.

With my shirt cast to the floor, I undid my suspenders and trousers and let them drop as well. Now standing in an undershirt and a pair of drawers, I shifted anxiously from one foot to another before stripping off the rest of my clothes. Unsurprisingly, my dick was already betraying me, hard as a rock and pointing at the crowd of observing men.

"You do seem ready for this." The bald man joked as he lifted me up by my armpits like a wet cat. I tried not to struggle as he placed me in the chair. Metallic shackles, like those you would find in a prison cell, were then clamped around my thighs, ankles, upper arms, and wrists. A larger metal support wrapped around my torso just under my pecks, causing a shudder of cold to pass through me as the cool metallic surface contacted sensitive skin. My dick only twitched excitedly.

"So, what exactly do you want me to do?" I asked once the bald man took a step back. "Is this more of a sit here and take it thing, or am I supposed to be helping the machine?"

The bald man grinned and handed a small device to Tumble, who took it without a word. He seemed to examine the box, before lifting to point it at me. A small transmitter was placed at the tip, as if it were a radio tower.

"Just sit back and relax." The bald man called as Tumble began to fiddle with the buttons. "This won't hurt a bit. Then, we'll get to your questions."

At first, nothing happened. The room was silent with anticipation as the engineers clutched their writing pads tightly in their laps, hunched over to write down observations even when nothing moved. Then, there was a small creak next to my left ear. I turned to look, and saw that a phallic object was now bobbing beside my head. It seemed clear... was it made of glass? I tilted my head, trying to figure out its composition, when suddenly something began buzzing near my crotch.

Before I had the chance to cry out, something wrapped around my cock and buzzed around it like a nest of angry hornets, only there was no pain. I bit my lip to hold back a sound of pleasure as the device began to vibrate and move, stimulating my penis and making the tip feel so very, very hot. My ass clenched, trying to stave off the sudden feeling of arousal.

"Stage one." Tumble called out in a monotonous voice. "Moving to stage two. Please apply the sensation buds."

The bald man hurried toward me and cranked a lever, which in turn raised these two metal arms with tiny buds of what almost looked like rubber flower petals on the end. He lined the buds up with my nipples before stepping back. I looked down at the device before glancing up. The thirty or so men were staring at me with rapt attention. Most of their dicks were already straining against the confines of their overalls. That, despite their looks, caused a wave of pleasure to course through me.

"Stage two." Tumble announced as the little flower petals began to vibrate as well. This time, the sensation was so surprising that I did call out. My hips bucked, but they couldn't get far due to the restraints on the rest of my body. I grit my teeth, attempting to keep the embarrassing noises in, but the bald man had come behind me. Gently, he grabbed my hair and forced my head to look up at the men observing me. He leaned in, his breath hot on my ear.

"Please, for this experiment we need to see your facial expressions and hear your sounds. That will help us make sure things are going right instead of wrong." He was so close, I could feel his lips brushing my earlobe. My breath came out in stilting huffs of air.

"It's embarrassing." I practically panted, my face burning a deep shade of red.