Cue Mr. B

I'd definitely set the stage. It was time for Mr. B to get some of his ****, so I sat back and waited. Marci was unbelievably uncomfortable, and looked torn between running for the exit in a panic and being too scared to expose herself more. And since so few folks had noticed her bottomless condition, she sat. And I watched. A few more minutes later, and I saw her stare at something on her desk and pick it up, and then brush it on the floor - but not without glancing worriedly around her again. Then this was repeated. Curious, I stopped time -

• and moved closer. Then I restarted it -

• and watched as a little ball of hair appeared, as if by magic, in front of her. Once again she brushed it off, only to have another appear a few seconds later. And again. Wondering, I looked under her desk to see that the top of Marci's bush had been clipped off, and that only a little stubble remained of her hair there! Mr. B seemed to still have his scissors, and was making use of them. Another few seconds, and another little clump appeared. And another. This time, Marci took the risk and looked down to see what had happened. With a little gasp, she put a hand over her pussy and clamped her thighs tighter....