Until midnight I am a guest like any other. My crimson dress and black satin evening gloves lend me an elegance that my body cannot match.

Only the slim red leather collar at my throat shows what I truly am.

As the clock strikes midnight I put down my wineglass and unfasten my dress.

It whispers to the ground around my boots.

I stand calmly in stockings, collar, gloves and boots only.

The other guests, the true guests, form a circle around me.

He steps forward. The master of ceremonies.

I hold my hands behind my back and allow him to bind them loosely with a bow of red ribbon.

He holds out a slender red leash. It matches my collar but any hope I had of being led that way disappears as I see the two black lacquered metal clamps that hang from the bifurcated ends of the leash.

He lifts each of my breasts in turn. His warm gentle touch is a contrast to the hard bite of the clamps on my nipples.

I am led by my leashed breasts from the ballroom into the gardens and the cool cloudy night.

Our route is illuminated by thick citrus candles on ornate gothic stands of weathered wrought iron.

The guests follow us as I am taken through the formal gardens to the southern entrance of the maze.

The walls of the maze are tall thick dark green hedges that look black in the dim light. The entrance is old worn brickwork crumbling in places.

There we pause and I am blindfolded with a scarf of scarlet sillk.

A jerk on my clamped nipples pulls me forwards into the maze.

Soon I cannot hear the soft chatter of the guests. The high foliage of the maze deadens sound. The ground under my feet alternates from cracked paving to soft grass.

The maze smells of wet leaves and cold night air.

We turn left and right. I quickly lose track. Finally we stop.

There is a pause. I am guided gently forward, my legs part around something bulky. It is cold and rough against my inner thighs as I straddle it.

A wall perhaps? Stone or brickwork?

My clamped nipples are released. The weight of the leash falls away.

I am guided further forwards, something slim and hard like a cold blunt finger presses the entrance to my sex.

I can feel a slippery layer of lubrication over a rough hard core.

I am pressed onto it. Guided down. I take it inside the wet sheath of my vagina.

The hard shaft thickens from the tip down, a rough tapered rod. My bounds hands flutter as I am deeply filled.

I am thankful for the lubricant.

I hear a zip unfastened then fingers at my other hole, more lubricant readying my anus.

I tense straining at the object in my vagina wondering if it's twin will have my rear.

But then I feel the familiar warmth of hard manhood at my ass.

He uses me that way. I am rocked against my pinioned sex. His hands are on my hips.

He finishes quickly and withdraws.

I feel hands on my chest and an odd light pressure as something is pulled around the base of each breast.

The blindfold is removed.

I am at the centre of the maze, bent across a white marble statue of a unicorns head. A stylised bust resembling a giant chess piece.

Its spiral curved horn is inside me.

There are red ribbons tied around each of my breasts. Tethered to each ribbon is a glossy red helium filled balloon floating a few feet above my head.

I groan with suprise and embarrassment.

He smiles at my dismay and gestures at the four exits from the centre of the maze.

He gives me leave to dismount.

The carved marble horn slides wetly out of me as I step back.

The balloons bob ludicrously above me rising from the ribbons around my breasts.

Again he gestures to the exits.

I choose one at random and set off.

This part of the game I know.

The other guests will be in the maze now, they will be hunting me as I search for an exit.

I have played this game before but I had not expected the balloons.

The impenetrable green walls of the maze rise up around me hiding me from the guests view.

The balloons hover just above the hedge tops, above the maze, revealing my position to any who look.

The first guest almost stumbles into me as I turn a corner. He reaches out and touches my bound arm before I can run.

I submit immediately. I sink to my knees and I ask him to use my mouth.

He feeds me his cock and has me swallow when he is done.

I realise that while I am kneeling the balloons are pulled down below the maze walls and I am invisible to those searching me out but as soon as I stand my position and my availability is announced.

The balloons betray me again and again.

I am caught and made to kneel over and over.

One guest takes pity on me and as I kneel to lick her she presses her shoe between my open thighs.

I grind myself against the glossy black leather until I am gasping my own ecstasy into her musky flesh.

Three more guests take similar pity on me when I ask for it.

I finally stagger from the maze at daybreak. My legs are dirty from kneeling in the wet grass, my face is wet from my duties. My naked body is chilled from the night air. My arms ache and the gentle pressure of the ribbons around my breasts has become a torment.

The master of ceremonies is waiting for me. The balloons are untied, my arms freed.

I sink to my knees in front of him. I have one last duty to perform before I may rest.