Flee!

The man grins at you. He's enjoying your torture, forcing you to stand there in your panties. He's going to want terrible things, and you don't even know for sure if he's going to give back your skirt. The skirt is in pieces too! You need to get out of here--out of the park.

Eyes are looking at the bottom half of your body, and your panties are as relentless as they have been all day. You make a break for the exit of the park. You think that maybe you could find somewhere to hide in town, or at least there would be less people there.

You bite your lip, clenching your nethers between your hands. The excitement is too much. You can hardly hold on to your senses, let alone run, but you still trek forwards.

Finally you reach a block with seemingly nobody on it. You catch your breath, leaning against it, hoping that your building orgasm subsides. Your paranoid glance looks left and right, but at the moment, nobody seems to be here. Just you, without pants. You wonder if you should continue to rest to avoid further embarrassment caused by your burning loins, or if you should continue, just in case somebody shows up. Nothing could go wrong by just standing around for a few minutes, right? You don't even know where you're going.

But, odds are, somebody would see you sooner or later.

You're embarrassed to admit that your nipples are fully perked, and perhaps the warmth between your legs aren't from the panties alone. You wouldn't be enjoying this, right? You shudder at the thought.