They don't (and they leave)

You sit and wait, listening to the shouts and curses of the boys searching for you. Your hands, with a mind of their own, stray to your nipples, and you pinch and twist them. A small moan escapes your lips, and you hope the boys find you.

However, that's not to be the case. You hear them pass by a short way off, their rough location made easy to trace by the volume of their shouts. As their shouts recede, you alternately curse your creativity, and celebrate having found a good hiding spot.

The tension and stakes of the game you're playing only amplify the fire in your loins, and, as you wait, your lust becomes irrepressible. You give in to your desires, pushing your dildo past your thong. You gasp as it slides smoothly into your steaming pussy, then begin pumping it frantically in and out. Another moan escapes your lips, and your hips rock in time to your hands. The stand of grass rustles and sways as your hips buck. It isn't long before you experience a toe-curling orgasm, your shrieks muffled by the gag.

As you lie there, basking in orgasmic afterglow, a part of you realizes there's no way the boys could have missed that. So where are they?

After a few more moments, you quietly peek out of the grass, scanning the edges of the bog. You can't see anyone lurking along the edges. A glance up reveals it is later in the afternoon than you thought.

You step out of the grass, and quickly splash through the bog, before jumping the foliage into the forest proper again. You look for the boys again, wishing you weren't gagged so you could call them. There's no sign of them.

This was definitely not part of the plan. You've been left alone, wearing nothing but a soaked, transparent thong, cuffed and gagged, in a public park blocks from home. The only other thing you have is the dildo in your hand. You have no idea where you left your sandals, and the boys destroyed the rest of your clothing.

The spare key to the cuffs should still be hidden near your bike, though it does nothing to solve the problem of clothing.

Strangely, despite the fear coursing through you, you find the situation arousing, as well. A part of you wonders what would happen if someone stumbled upon you like this.