Run!

Whatever is going on here, you don't feel like sticking around to find out, and so you book it back the way you came, sparing a quick glance behind to see the floating broom still following you.

Shadowed topiary flies by as you rush through the maze, almost immediately losing track of where you are relative to where you've been. The greenery seems to close in around you as the paths become smaller. The moon hides behind a cloud, casting the world into darkness and making it even harder to find anything close to a way out.

You soon come to a dead-end, breathless and panting as you stop short face-to-face with a cheshire grin trimmed into the bush ahead. Turning around, your heart sinks as you see the broom there, floating steadily toward you. You didn't manage to lose it at all, and it now has you cornered.

Backing up further into the dead-end, you trip on a root, falling on your butt in the thick grass. You scramble in an effort to stand as it gets closer, rolling to your knees before it sweeps in to swat your bare ass with its hard straw bristles. It's so sudden that you yelp in surprise, falling again with a grunt as you hear it swish over your prone form and strike your butt a second time.

You gasp at the stinging blow, resigning to covering your head and laying there on the grass. The broom continues to sweep through the air in circles, swatting you again and again, drawing small cries with every painful spank. Any protests only come out as meowing, as the collar seems to still have some hold over you.

After you lose count of how many times your poor behind has been struck, you start to wonder if this is all the broom is going to do, and whether or not you can make a successful escape attempt. Your butt is only getting sorer, and yet you can't truthfully say it hasn't turned you on a bit...