No

Overwhelmed by the experience, Melissa said nothing about her panties. Dr. Jorgensen simply collected both garments together and handed them to Brad, who had just come back from the washing machines and was sent right back out to them.

Melissa's shirt had now become a dress, the bottom hem clearing her hairy pussy by an inch. Melissa had seen her roommates go out in clubs in dresses this length, but this was at least a foot shorter than what Melissa had ever worn. (They also, incidentally, probably wore panties when they did!)

"Now, then, shall we begin?" asked the dentist. Melissa sat back down, feeling the thick plastic covering of the seat on her bare legs. In her haste, she had only covered her front side without taking care of the back; as she sat down, she felt the hem of shirt go just up above the bottom swell of her buttcheeks. She tried to pull the shirt back down but her derriere pinned it to the chair so she couldn't move the front to where she wanted it.

Dr. Jorgensen put on his blue glove to begin the exam, and asked Melissa to open wide. He took his mirror to look at her teeth, but found that she kept fidgeting and pulling at the hemline of her shirt. Not only was this movement annoying, but it would interfere with his exam and tooth-scraping.

"Melissa," he asked, "is your shirt bothering you?"

Melissa, unable to explain what was really going on, simply said "yeah, a little."

"Well, I'm afraid that you'll have to stop fidgeting with your shirt while I perform the exam. Can you be a good little girl and hold still?"

"Yes, sir," Melissa meekly replied. Determined not to disappoint Dr. Jorgensen, she vowed not to touch her shirt again. This resolve only lasted for a few seconds, however; she soon looked down and was sure she could see her crotch hairs sticking out! Hoping the dentist wouldn't notice, she surreptitiously reached down to try remedying the situation. The dentist did, unfortunately, notice.

"Melissa," he said more sternly, "I really cannot perform the exam with you all fidgeting."

"Sorry," Melissa pouted to the floor.

"Okay, then. Can you promise that you won't fidget anymore?"

"Yes, sir, I promise."

"Good. If I catch you pulling on your shirt one more time, I'll have to take drastic action to ensure that the shirt isn't a distraction anymore, do you understand?"

Melissa really did not. She couldn't think of anything doctor Jorgensen could do to "fix" her fidgeting, and was too ashamed to admit why it was happening. But, not wanting to test his patience, she simply said "yes, sir."

Melissa held on tightly to the arms of the chair to keep her from fidgeting again. The dentist finished the mirror part of the exam, and started on the messier part of things. To clean up his mess he pulled out a bib from a nearby drawer to put on Melissa. Melissa sat up, and the dentist put the bib on her. Her sitting up and the dentist's bib motions had the effect of moving her shirt up by a couple of inches. Reflexively, Melissa’s hands shot down to the bottom of the shirt to pull it back down.

Dr. Jorgensen did not miss this, "okay, that's it. I told you no more fidgeting, but you couldn't handle that. Now I have to take care of it."

Melissa was deeply ashamed of annoying the dentist once again, but was blindsided when he said, "the shirt, please."

"Um, what?" she replied.

"I told you drastic action was needed to fix your bad habit. The only way I can be sure that your shirt won’t be a distraction is if you give it to me. You can't fidget with the shirt if you don't have it on."

Melissa was stunned, and didn't know what to do. She knew without her shirt she’d be left there in only her sports bra, naked from her ribs down. At the same time, she didn’t dare refuse doctor Jorgensen.