E.V.T.

When they were finished, Amos gathered up the scraps and leaves and tossed them into the water for the fish before resuming his place. Meera, comfortable with his appearance now, shifted over to again lie beside him.

On impulse, she ran one hand over the muscles of his chest. His black skin was warm, smooth. She was aware of his hot breath on her hair. He smelled... odd, she realized. It wasn't bad. Indeed, it was very pleasant, but unlike anything she had ever smelled before - partly human man and partly clean leather, with overtones of some spice.

Amos' free left hand reached over, grasped her wrist gently and lifted it off his chest, moved it to one side and set it down gently.

"That's pleasant," he said softly, "but it wouldn't be a good idea."

She was turning her head up to his in question when she noticed the effect her innocent caress had had on his sex. As he lay there, it rose over his abdomen, pulsing slightly, the size and colour of a bottle of Bordeaux wine. Meera's eyes opened very wide at the sight; the minotaur would clearly kill any human woman he mated with.

Her fear returned suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Amos," she whispered and attempted to pull away. "I didn't mean..."

A huge right arm tightened under her, pulled her back to his shoulder.

"I know," he said, quite gently. "I know. Don't apologize. One thing you haven't learned yet is how deeply the Poloids have changed us. Among other things, we all seem to be very easily aroused. Sexually, I mean. I suspect it was a design feature ordered by Them." His normally-gentle voice had turned bitter at the end.

To her shame, the mermaid realized that he was right; she was indeed somewhat randy.

"Just relax and watch the sunset, Meera," he suggested. "Having you beside me is OK. It's actually very nice, but nothing more, please. For both our sakes."

He sighed deeply.

She understood him a little better then. Amos, she thought, was a true gentleman. And he could hardly be held accountable for his monstrous appearance, could he?

The sunset was every bit as colourful Amos had promised and lasted a long time.

Soon enough afterwards, Amos slept, his rumbling snores oddly comforting to the young mermaid.

It took her a long time to fall asleep.

+

"Good morning." The voice intruded into a pleasant dream. Meera was running the best race of her...

"Good morning, Meera."

She opened her eyes to see Keeper sitting casually against Amos' tree. The mermaid's head flipped from side to side in search of Amos.

"Where is...?"

She looked down and sagged as she saw her tail, not the slim legs in her dream.

"The Minotaur?" Keeper smiled. "He said he was going for a walk."

"Oh." Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she sat up.

"How was your first night here, Meera?" His voice was kind.

She was surprised that his eyes were on her face, not on her breasts.

"OK," she sang in reply. "Good, I suppose. I met Am... I mean, the Minotaur. He's very nice, I think. And I met you!"

Keeper smiled. "Am I nice, too, Meera?"

"Oh. Oh, well, yes. I suppose that you are. Keeper?"

"Mmm?"

"What do you do? I mean, what do you do here?"

"What do I do? Such an odd question, Meera."

"No" she replied. "Not really. You're the only really human here, I think. That makes you special."

"And you're the only real mermaid here. That certainly makes you special."

She frowned slightly. "You know what I mean. And the Minotaur said that you were the one who warded the satyrs on their islands."

"Yes," the man replied, his smile slipping just a little. "I suppose I did.

"Let's just say," he said, almost to himself, "that I try to keep things running.

"For instance," he said, in a not-quite-transparent change of topic, "I am the breadman." He held up a long loaf of French bread. It was warm in her hand and smelled delicious.

Beyond that remark however, Keeper refused to discuss the place or his position any further, only making polite conversation and ensuring that the mermaid was adjusting to her new home.

Soon enough, bidding her a good day, he rose and departed, his kilt swinging as he walked.

That was the last she saw of him for some days.

+

They had a boat. Luxurious but silent, it coasted at a leisurely pace along the channel between two islands. With a silent, impassive Keeper at the helm, the occupants of the silvery craft were as exuberant as a school bus full of six-year-olds - pointing, laughing, running about the craft.

Meera instinctively let herself sink deeper into the water until her head was half-submerged. She backed up under a bush overhanging the water, trying not to create ripples which might attract attention.

The passengers were human, but, she thought to herself, very strange - stranger than many of the other constructs here.

They were willowy in stature - not just slim, but elegantly slender. A high-fashion model back on Earth might once have aspired to learn their gracefulness; these creatures on the other hand seemed to exude it naturally.

Their hair was worn stylishly unstyled, loose but in a carefully-crafted state of freedom, falling to between shoulders and waist. Some wore their hair in normal shades; others dyed in brilliant, vivid colors.

Each and every one was bearded and at first she thought they were all male; a closer look revealed the truth. The men wore carefully-trimmed but rather foppish-looking natural beards. The women, to her amazement, all wore narrow, obviously artificial beards somehow fastened to their chins and these were coloured to match their hair.

Meera had read that ancient Egyptian queens sometimes wore ostentatiously fake beards, probably as badges of office or to assert their authority. It had always seemed silly to her; these in front of her now seemed more so, but she knew enough about fashion trends to not laugh too much.

Men and women both wore bold, almost garish, eye makeup. All were dressed in little more than a simple tunic of sheer white fabric fastened at their waists by a jewelled belt and all wore flowers in their hair, either single blossoms tucked into their hair or else floral circlets or crowns like ancient Roman partygoers.

Watching them, the name 'Eloi' sprang into Meera's head, from H.G. Wells' The Time Machine. In the story, years in the future, mankind had split into two branches. The Eloi were decadent lotus-eaters - small and superficially quite attractive but dissolute, lazy and unproductive.

The name 'Eloi' fitted the creatures in the boat, Meera thought to herself.

She saw their eyes and shivered slightly in the warm water. Dissolute, lazy and unproductive - add 'cruel' to that list,  Meera thought to herself.

The boat slowed, turned towards the bank of the island opposite, 20 metres away. It grounded softly, a ramp lowered and the crowd poured out onto the grass, laughing and pointing. Keeper, his face emotionless, remained in his seat.

Over the disembarking Eloi floated several dozen mirrored spheres, each the size of a lemon. These proceeded to drift about, hovering around the creatures. Individuals and small groups began to pose, hold their smiles as the spheres paused in front of them. Meera suddenly realized they were camera drones, providing selfie images with none of the fuss associated with having to carry and use a camera.

A centaur approached and, much to the mermaid's wonder, knelt in front of the crowd in apparent homage. The chattering Eloi surrounded it, petted it, stroked it with their hands. The beast's expression was one of patience or, at least, resignation.

One of the Eloi pointed at the boat; the centaur rose, carefully moved into the boat. Keeper motioned it to a locker mounted on one side. The centaur returned to the island a moment later bearing a large tray full of glasses and wine bottles and began circulating to offer refreshments.

Another centaur arrived, this one a female. The Eloi again clustered around it, chattering excitedly. Their hands swept over the creature, fondling, touching, pinching. The young centaur shivered, started to back away, a look of unease on her face.

Instantly, half a dozen hands were pointing at her, each holding a black wand the size of a half-used pencil. The centaur stopped dead, quivering in her tracks, then gave a low moan, her breasts shaking.

After a moment, she returned to her place in their midst. Meera could see a tear running down her face. The other centaur, his face impassive, carefully paid no attention as the Eloi resumed their fondling.

Some of the Eloi stayed to watch. Others wandered off, generally in couples, hand in hand. As Meera watched, one pair settled down on the grass a few steps away and, without further delay, openly began to couple.

They're not making love,"  the mermaid thought to herself. Just having - doing - sex. I wonder if they can love?"

So thin was the cloth of their tunics that, discarded, they drifted to the ground, almost like feathers. The two locked their lips together and began to run their hands up and down each other's bodies. The woman placed her foot behind one of his heels and pushed him backwards. As he fell to the grass, she launched herself to land astride him. Laughing, his hands caught her waist, his thumbs sweeping the underside of her breasts, before pulling her down on top of him.

Soon they had attracted their own circle of onlookers, pointing, laughing, commenting and making suggestions. A number of selfie spheres followed and even in the midst of their mating, the couple periodically paused for photos.

The woman was very pretty, Meera thought. She had pink hair, streaked with sky blue. Her complexion was perfect, her bum pert and firm, her breasts tipped with dark areolae and stiff, protruding nipples. The man, too, was handsome. Meera watched his beard blow in the slight breeze. The woman raised herself, reached for his stiffness and pushed it down to lie against his abdomen before lowering her sex on top of him and sliding her dewy lips back and forth along his length.

The man smiled, began fondling her swaying breasts, from time to time pulling her down for another deep, soul-consuming kiss. When the woman sat up a bit straighter, still rolling their sexes together, the man looked around, located the centaur with its tray and gestured.

Obediently, the horse-man stepped over to beside the couple, carefully avoiding couples and threesomes intertwined on the grass. The man said something. The centaur nodded, poured another glass of wine. Meera was close enough that she could see condensation on the bottle.

Waving his hand in dismissal, the man offered his partner the glass. She stopped her rocking motion, accepted it and took a deep drink before handing it back. He too drank before simply tossing the glass to one side.

Again, the woman leaned forward to bring their lips together. This time however, without breaking the kiss, the man seized her body and rolled them together so that he was on top. The woman's delighted laugh rang clearly over the water to where Meera was still hiding.

The man slid down, brought his lips to her breasts and began to lick and nibble his way in a circular path, inwards, towards her nipples. Meera could see the woman's eyes close just a little, her lips close in a slight smile. Her hands gathered behind his neck, pulled his head in towards her.

Another couple, Meera saw, had were engaged in doggy-style sex in front of their friends. The woman, a fixed smile on her face, clutched a tree while her partner hammered her from behind. Her breasts swung beneath her and Meera could hear the impact of his stomach on her buttocks. After a minute, she closed her eyes in apparent happiness. They popped opened again at hearing the cries of the first woman.

There, the man had lifted himself off her breasts and slid down her torso to her sex. As his head bobbed and moved between her legs, she squirmed and bucked under him, her moans growing. As Meera watched, he lifted himself up and drove his cock into her sex, bringing a great gasp from his partner.

Meera's eyes shifted closer to the boat, back to the main crowd near the grounded barge. Wide-eyed, the mermaid watched as the Eloi possessed the beautiful centaurs - two of them now, one male and one female.

The female had an Eloi on each breast, toying with her nipples - licking and sucking them and, from time to time, lightly slapping her breasts. The creature's horse hindquarters shivered at the sensation. Her eyes were closed and Meera could not decide whether she was enjoying herself or not.

A third Eloi stepped up in front of her. Pushing in between the two others at her chest, the man roughly grabbed her by the head with one hand and dragged their lips together for a hard, demanding kiss. At the same time, the long fingers of his other hand fondled the centaur's human sex, probing and pinching the creature's labia. Again, the horse-girl shivered.

Without releasing her head, the Eloi's other hand found his rigid member, aimed it at her slit and drove it home, began thrusting into the beautiful creature. The two others continued to amuse themselves with her boobs. Around the group circled a small halo of drones, capturing every expression, every motion.

A loud cry came from the first Eloi couple she had been watching. Standing now, the man had picked up the woman, turned her upside down and, holding her off the ground by her waist, had his head buried in her pussy. His wet cock swung free as the woman simply hung in his grasp, hands and hair swinging, apparently content to receive without giving. Her cries grew louder and louder until, seizing the man about his knees, she gave a series of wordless roars before falling silent and hanging almost lifeless from his arms. Nothing daunted, he lowered her limp form to the ground, rolled her over on her chest and, spreading her legs, drove into her pussy.

Two Eloi women had meanwhile caught another male centaur and began to torment and tease its already rigid human cock. Their delighted eyes fixed on his, they began running slender fingers along its length, stroking the sensitive underside of the bulbous crown. One knelt in front and began to lick its swollen head. The centaur, its eyes closed, raised its head to the cloudless sky. One of its hind legs began twitching.

Laughing at the sight, the second woman smiled at the first and made some comment on her oral technique. Looking up at the centaur, she reached up and pulled his face down to hers. Obediently, the tall creature began to kiss her. His initial apparent lack of enthusiasm did not seem to dismay the woman, for she seized his arms by the wrists and pulled his hands down over her breasts, holding them there until the centaur began to squeeze and play with them.

Meera watched the tableau for a minute before both women stood up. The one, wrapping her arms around the centaur's neck, leapt up towards him and, falling back, gave a loud cry of pleasure as she impaled herself. Mindful of his rôle, the centaur's arms seized her by the bum and began to lift her up and down on his engorged cock.

The second Eloi, her skin flushed and one hand quivering between her own legs, led the pair over to a nearby tree and climbed up onto a low branch. Without disturbing the first woman's writhing on the centaur, she stepped off the branch and slid in between them, coming to rest with her legs over the centaur's broad shoulders and her sex against his face. Meera could see the second woman give a growl of delight as his tongue and lips bent to her pleasure.

The trio were soon surrounded by a crowd of laughing Eloi who began to point and laugh at the sight. Several slapped the centaur on its hindquarters and, the two women still in place, he began to trot around the island. More Eloi gathered at the spectacle and the laughter grew louder, shriller, crueler. It was only when the creature was about to run headlong into a tree that someone caught him by the elbow and held him still as the two women worked themselves towards their release.

The female centaur, her three Eloi now asleep in a post-orgasmic coma, began to canter past the crowd until another hand came up holding a wand and she stopped in her tracks, shaking. More Eloi crowded around her; more drones headed in.

It was too much for the young mermaid to watch. The Eloi, she realized, were totally self-centred, as thoughtless and demanding as children - and with no more morals.

Meera allowed herself to gently slide under the water's surface. Once submerged, she began to drive herself forward with her sinuous tail, following the shallows around the end of the island and not surfacing until her breath ran out.

Cautiously, she lifted her head out of the water. She was out of sight of the Eloi and their victims, but the roars and cheers of Eloi mirth echoed easily in every direction.

Keeping the island between her and the Eloi, she swam away as quietly as she could, back to the island of the minotaur.

+

"But why, Amos?" she sang. "Why do they have to be so cruel?"

The minotaur's hand came to rest under her chin, lifted it to look him in the eyes.

"They do, Meera, because they can, I think. We exist for their amusement."

"Their diversion,  I think you called it, Amos."

"Yes."

"But why?"

The massive Amos was silent for a few seconds.

"May I ask you a question, Meera? A very personal question?"

"Yes." She had grown to trust Amos, despite his appearance.

"Do you like sex?"

Her eyes popped wide open in astonishment. She blushed and lowered her eyes.

"Yes," she whispered, "but..."

"Let me guess," he said. Again, he raised her face to look at his. "But you think it should be loving and gentle, the... I don't know, perhaps the culmination  of love?"

Incapable of turning her head, incapable of nodding, she whispered instead.

"Yes." Then, after a pause, "Shouldn't it be?"

She was astonished to see a tear in the eye of the monstrous bull's head. The minotaur released her, dropped its head in turn.

"Yes," he whispered. "Yes. It should be."

He lifted his head, looked at her. "I mean, it can be. There's nothing wrong with sex without deep love, I think, Meera."

He shook his muzzle.

"I mean, sometimes just having fun is good, too. But They..." and in his mouth the word was a curse, "with Them, the fun is pretty much one-way."

He pulled the mermaid onto his lap, held her until her quivering stopped. He began to pet Meera, gently, comfortingly. In response, she leaned in against his chest, listened to the rumbling of his lungs under her ear. She ran her hand over his shoulder, down his arm. And again.

She was appalled to feel a strong nudge beneath her thighs where they rested on Amos' lap.

"Oh, no!" she sang, twisting away from him in sudden realization.

Again, his rigid organ reached towards the sky.

"I'm sorry, Amos," she whispered. "I didn't mean..."

"I know," he said softly. "It wouldn't work, of course."

"Wouldn't... work?"

He lifted his great shaft with one great finger, let it fall back against his stomach. It made a dull noise when it landed on his skin.

"You and I, Meera. It couldn't work. And I know you didn't mean anything."

Her eyes wide, she could only stare at his coal-black member.

+

Days drifted past. Meera found herself spending much of her time sunning on the beach at Amos' island. With the rest, she explored her new world.

The Pegasus had proved as stupid and as vain as Amos had predicted. He spent most of his time running back and forth in a vain attempt at flight or else admiring his reflection in the water. He became quite annoyed at Meera's departure. Not only did it cause ripples and disturb his watery mirror, but also deprived him of an audience.