Overwatch ENF: Doctor Knows Best

She rushed back over to the scale, wanting to hurry this process along so she could get dressed, but Moira stepped in her path to cut her off. “There is still one item that the patient needs to remove.” Symmetra looked down at her naked form in confusion, before a look of horrified realization crossed over her face.

“Y-you can’t be serious! What possible medical need is there to—”

Moira interrupted her with a wave of her hand, “I’ll remind you that already signed the consent forms. This is not a hospital, Ms. Symmetra. This is a place of science, and we prioritize precision here.”

Symmetra looked crestfallen and prepared to argue further, but she realized she was only prolonging her nudity by doing that. She gritted her teeth and mentally-activated the disengagement lock for her prosthetic arm, catching the falling limb in her one remaining fleshy hand. She gingerly placed the metallic arm on her neat pile of clothes and stepped back onto the scale, shooting Moira an icy look.

With only one hand, Symmetra couldn’t manage to cover her pubic hair, her embarrassing inverted nipple, and the freshly-revealed stump of her shoulder; so she choose not to cover anything. She decided projecting confidence was the best course of action, though this was somewhat undercut by her reddening face and the bead of nervous sweat running down her temple. 

Moira redid the measurements and then grinned at the quivering Indian woman, “139, a whole difference of four pounds! It’s a good thing we remembered to get you disrobed, who could imagine the calamity if we hadn’t discovered this error?”

Symmetra fought the urge to roll her eyes and bent over to retrieve her prosthetic and her clothes, but she quickly noticed that they were gone. Her eyes swept around in a panic and she noticed a young college-aged girl had placed them in a basket and was distributing the items amongst the other students.

“Oh don’t worry about your belongings,” Moira cooed, “You won’t need them for the rest of the examination, and it’s standard procedure to examine the items a patient had on them before entering the facility.”

The older students seemed most entranced with her cybernetic arm, manually posing the fingers and taking notes on the advanced technology. The younger girls in the class were particularly drawn to the luxurious texture of Symmetra's silky dress, eagerly running their fingers over the smooth fabric. To her embarrassment, the younger boys dived right for her underwear, holding them up to the light and examining the closely. 

When one particularly, let's say inquisitive, boy brought the underwear up to his nose, she nearly rushed across the room to jerk them out of his hands. “D-don’t!”

"Don't be silly," Moira spoke matter-of-factly, grabbing Symmetra's shoulder. "Our olfactory senses are highly astute at picking out unusual smells, including those that may indicate disease.”

Symmetra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she watched each of the students grab her underwear and deeply smell them, though the girls seemed noticeably less enthused about it. 

A student grabbed the underwear and raised his hand, and Symmetra was surprised to see that it was a little metal omnic boy. Oasis is truly a bizarre city, she thought. 

“I obviously lack the olfactory capacity to smell any suspicious odors,” his voice modulator imitated the voice of an enthusiastic, though nerdy, fourteen-year-old boy. “But a thorough visual inspection of this article of clothing reveals a level of secretion that is consistent with many days of use. But I was under the impression humans only wore these sorts of undergarments for a day at a time?”

The class broke out into a peal of laughter at this question, and Moira turned to Symmetra with an expectant look on her face. Gods, she’s really going to make me answer this, she thought miserably. 

“The rash left me bedridden and in agony for days," she explained defensively, "So I may have worn them a little longer than I normally-”

Moira interrupted her with another stern look, “I'll remind the patient that it’s very important to maintain proper hygienic standards, even when we are ill!” She smiled darkly, apparently enjoying the Indian woman's mortification. 

Symmetra closed her eyes, trying to ignore the disgusted, judgemental looks on the faces of the students. She was determined to endure this humiliation if it meant finding some relief from her illness. Now that she was unclothed, it became more obvious how severe the condition was. Her smooth, chocolate-brown skin was marred by a rash of angry red bumps that seemed to bubble up from beneath the surface like tiny volcanoes erupting on a dark, serene landscape. Upon seeing this, the students adopted a more serious attitude and let her panties fall back into the basket with her other clothes.