Sharked

"It all started when I was at the mall," you recount to your therapist, "I had just bought makeup and was walking back to my car in the parking lot. I noticed some guy behind me had his phone out, and I got a little nervous. Little did I know what was about to happen..."

You pause for a bit before the therapist nudges you back on track.

"I remember some guy running up behind me and putting his thumbs in my pants and underwear. He," you tense up as the pain of recounting this story swells in your stomach, "pulled down, and I shouted 'no, please, stop, you pervert!' I tripped and fell out of my pants and sandals and tried to keep walking before I felt his hands on my tank top, and I got really scared since I wasn't wearing a bra. 'Please, I don't want to be naked!' I yelled as he pulled up and flashed my boobs and turned me around to the guy with the phone as they laughed.

I wrestled away from him and pulled my shirt back down to jog away from him, but I noticed from the corner of my eye that he was scooping up the rest of my clothes and running off with them. I just had to pull my shirt down to cover my privates and run back to the car. To this day I don't know what's happened with whatever they were filming, and I'm terrified to see if it went online."

"I see," your therapist consoles you, "how was your ride home?"