A Mis-Cap.
Ron whimpered as he realized the machine was lowering him back to the platform in the village square. What had gone wrong? Had he been rejected?
But no, the people were cheering, and the Mayor was walking up to the platform, right hand extended for a handshake. Behind him was Ron’s Papa and Mom.
“Welcome back!” said the fat man, with his white beard, feathered cap, and walking cane. “Welcome back Ronald! Now you are a man!”
Ron felted the metal hand release him and he only held himself up because of the Major’s handshake and the hug his Mom was giving him.
“Now you are a man,” said his Papa as they moved down the steps, from the wooden platform.
Must not be weak, Ron thought to himself, as they led him to the tables set up for the feast.
As he was guided to the place of honor next to the Mayor’s chair Ron could not help but glance back to the machine.
It stood there, twice as tall as any of the buildings, yet less than a third their width. Shiny and gray, the machine silently watched the people below with as much interest as men watch fish in a pond.
The Mayor pounded on the head table to get everybody’s attention.
“Ronald left us a few hours ago a boy,” said the Mayor as he stood up straight, gesturing towards the subject of his statement.
Ron gave a weak wave as the crowd cheered again. A few hours? He remembered nothing since the machine picked him up. That had been hours ago?
“Now he has been capped by the Gods,” continued the Mayor, as he turned to gesture towards the machine behind them. It did not gesture back, standing tall and deadly on a dozen thin legs.
“Now he is a man!” shouted out a voice from one of side tables.
“YES!” said the Mayor, clapping Ron on his back before the boy could dodge the man’s massive bear-like right hand. “And he will work like a man and marry like a man and be a man for the village!”
More cheering was soon followed by noises of a feast being enjoyed. Mugs of ale were drained and platters of roast chicken were soon empty. Meat pies, fresh bread, and good cheese were given no quarter.
Ron tried to eat. Ron tried not to shake. Ron tried not to look back at the machine.
Those who were capped knew no fear. Nor did they ask questions. Nor did they frown.
Now Ron would leave school and start working full time. He would, sooner or later, move into his own house. And, of course, the women folk would soon start whispering and debating on which woman he should marry.
Ron hated it all. And hated still being aware of the fact that he hated it. At least if he had been capped...
He reached up and touched his bald head. Yes, he was capped. The cold webbing of metal was meshed with his flesh. What happened?
“Something wrong?” asked the Mayor, as the fat man poured himself enough mug of home brew.
“Cold,” said Ron with a smile.
“You are too thin my boy,” said the fat man with a grin. “Once you get a good wife to cook for you...well, you will fill out!”
Ron nodded and, for some reason, thought about how his dad would fatten up a turkey for the harvest feast.
The next day, after a breakfast of oatmeal with apple slices, fresh milk, and buttered toast, Ron went to work clearing some of the forest for one of the neighbors. In a few years, if he worked hard, he would have enough money to buy up some land for himself. Maybe have some money left over to buy a small house.
After that he would work and work and work as a farmer. Maybe build a barn, get a few pigs, and maybe a cow.
The freshly capped all smiled at the thought of a life of labor and hardship.
Ron still looked at that future with horror. How boring. How terrible. He would age so fast, like his Papa and Mom. They looked twenty years older than they should be.
As Ron chopped down trees and split their trunks he pondered what to do. He would never make it. Somebody would notice he was not happy with life and question what was wrong with his cap.
He stopped to use a scarf to wipe his eyes free of the sweat. He tied it around his neck and picked up the axe. If only the cap had worked. In so many ways that would have been better.
Around noon Betty showed up with a basket full of food. Ron carefully placed the axe against a stump and took the basket with thanks.
Betty was a girl who had become a woman last year and, for most of the time, had ignored him completely. Before being capped she had joked and talked to him during school. Afterwards she barely give him a nod.
She was a year older but Ron was willing to bet that the older women in the village had sent her with the basket to see how well they got along. The village was a small one and matching making had become an important hobby among the elders.
Cold chicken, sliced bread, a bottle of beer, and warm apple tarts. Ron offered Betty some and dug in.
“Hard work,” Betty said as she nibbled on a piece of chicken.
“Yes,” said Ron. “I will become use to it. Been in school most of my life. Don’t you work on your Uncle’s farm now?”
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I collect the eggs and milk the cows in the morning. I help around the house, cook, and have mended many a shirt.”
Ron nodded. Listing her skills. No doubt she had been told by the elders that she needed to show off her abilities and assets. She would make a good wife but Ron didn’t really feel anything for her. She was nice enough and did have a large buxom chest. In fact Ron got caught staring at her chest and blushed. He tried to cover up his bad behavior by drinking his beer.
The capped had no idea how to react to such stares and Betty just continued to chew on her chicken leg. Ron dared to look her over, from her straw hat down to her work boots. Under the plain dress, the apron, and dirt was a shapely, healthy young woman.
Once again Betty just stood there, a slightly confused look on her face, as she watched him leer at her. Ron realized that the she was no longer able to feel the mood swings of childhood. She could be happy and sad. And she could feel a certain among of delight and awe when dealing with the Gods. But incredible passion and burning hate had disappeared with the wonder of discovery and the fears of uncertainty.
Ron smiled. There was also something else that had been pounded into him since the first day he had gone to classes at the school house. The capped could not lie.
Ron wiped his mouth and took a step towards Betty.
Before she could say anything he reached out and grasped her large bust, squeezing her breasts through the front of her dress.
“We need to have sex,” stated Ron as he enjoyed the feel of her flesh. Even through the material of the dress, her tits felt soft and warm.
Betty blinked and started to help him undress her. The capped could not lie and he was capped. If he said they needed to have sex than they needed to have sex. There was no need for details or reasons. The capped trusted each other as much as they trusted the Gods.
Soon Ron was having the first sexual encounter of his life. In the middle of a semi-cleared field of tree stumps he was on top of Betty, her brown legs around his waist, as he humped her, his bare ass cheeks twitching and jerking in the afternoon sun.
Birds thrilled and ants invaded the basket as the two young people screwed like rabbits.
Betty moaned and grunted. Ron could tell she had been a virgin when he entered her. She was so tight and hot, the very act of thrusting was diving him nuts with rapture. He had no clue if she was enjoying herself or not as he was too focused on the feeling of his hard cock plowing into her womanhood.
He pushed his face against her breasts but the angle was all wrong and his penis almost popped out. He reinserted it and went back to the basics. In and out, in and out, in and out.
Still, when one has never had the basics before, when one has never had good wine even cheap wine was a delight. And simply fucking was filling him with a magical level of pleasure he had never felt before.
Finally his body shook and jerked. He felt his seed spray into Betty, his balls becoming tight, his shaft seeming to almost tinkle. A magical moment. Not like jerking off in one’s room or in the barn.
Ron rolled off and smiled. Maybe his life would be a good one after all?