Racecourse

Thousands of women from across the UK descended for an afternoon of high fashion, nail-biting horse racing and a glass of bubbly at the York racecourse. You are standing behind one of the buildings as a woman holds a gun on you. She is dressed in a short pink skirt and a large flowery pink hat.

"Give me your wallet," she says with British accent you notice because you are an American trourist.

You can't believe she is doing this in broad daylight.

After giving her your wallet she asks, "And your watch."

You comply and figure it's over, but she says something next that tells you your troubles are far from over.

"Now put your clothes in this bag."

"My clothes?"

"Now!"

She holds the gun closer to your face. You take off your shirt and pants and socks and shoes and place them in the bag. You stand there in your boxer shorts and hold the bag out to her.

"You're not finished."

You groan and pull down your underwear and stuff it too in the bag. She snatches it and backs away still pointing the gun at you. You watch her disappear around the corner and feel a warm breeze blow over you naked body. You cover your genitals with your hands and ease closer to the corner of the building and peek out.