The medical chamber smelled of antiseptic and something deeper, warm skin, nervous sweat, the faint floral hint of Dr. Anjali's perfume clinging to the stifling air. Just the three young women, Nimmi, Ruvini, and Shalini, standing in varying states of composure before Dr. Anjali's polished teak desk.
"You understand this is a comprehensive physical examination," she said.
"Every system must be evaluated. There will be no modesty here, only medicine."
A shared glance passed between the girls. The room seemed to grow smaller.
Nimmi, petite, traditional, her long braid a silken rope over one shoulder,flinched when called forward first. Her pink salwar kameez, chosen for modesty with its high neckline and flowing sleeves, suddenly felt as thin as tissue paper under Dr. Anjali's gaze.
"Footwear first," the doctor instructed, her manicured nails glinting under the fluorescent lights.
Nimmi's fingers,adorned only with the faintest henna stains from her cousin's wedding, trembled as they worked the delicate straps of her sandals. The cool tile shocked her bare feet, her toes curling instinctively like a startled bird's claws. The mehndi patterns on her feet, once proud and dark, had faded to ghostly brown traces against her skin.
"Step onto the scale."
The metal plate was shockingly cold. Dr. Anjali's hands, warm and firm, guided Nimmi's shoulders back. The measuring rod's touch against her scalp made her shiver.
"Look straight ahead."
Nimmi obeyed, her eyes fixed on a water stain on the far wall as the doctor's palm pressed between her shoulder blades. The heat of that touch seeped through the thin cotton of her kameez.
"You're holding your breath," Dr. Anjali murmured, her lips close enough that Nimmi felt the words as much as heard them.
"In and out."
Nimmi's exhale fluttered the loose hairs at her temples.
smirks,was already kicking off her sneakers before the doctor finished speaking. Her red sleeveless blouse clung to the sweat at the small of her back, the fabric stretched taut across shoulders honed by years of volleyball.
"Efficient," Dr. Anjali noted, one eyebrow arching as Ruvini stepped onto the scale without prompting.
The athlete struck a pose,shoulders back, stomach taut,as if this were a competition rather than an examination. The doctor's hands skimmed her sides, thumbs brushing the lower ribs.
"Excellent muscle tone," Dr. Anjali observed, her fingers lingering at the dip of Ruvini's waist.
"But your pulse is elevated."
Ruvini's grin was all white teeth and confidence.
"Adrenaline."
The doctor's answering hum was noncommittal, but her eyes dropped to Ruvini's collarbones, where a sheen of sweat glistened.
Shalini,her white schoolgirl blouse buttoned to the throat, her navy skirt pleated with military precision,fumbled with her glasses as she knelt to unlace her loafers. The lenses fogged with her nervous breath.
"Nervous?" Dr. Anjali asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.
"No," Shalini stammered, her voice cracking like thin ice.
The second loafer slipped from her damp fingers, clattering to the floor.
On the scale, Shalini hunched instinctively, her shoulders rounding forward until the doctor's hands,cool and dry,settled on her hips.
"Posture," Dr. Anjali chided, turning Shalini slightly.
"Stand as you were taught."
The measuring rod grazed Shalini's scalp, and she flinched,not from pain, but from the intimacy of the touch. The doctor's perfume,jasmine and something sharper, medicinal,filled her nostrils as she was adjusted like a mannequin.
"You're trembling," the doctor observed, her breath warm against Shalini's ear.
"And we've only just begun."
"Blouses and shirts off. I need unrestricted access to assess respiratory function and musculoskeletal alignment."
Nimmi's hands,adorned only with a single thin gold bangle,rose to her kameez's pearl buttons. Each tiny sphere slipped reluctantly from its mooring, revealing millimeter by millimeter the delicate white lace bralette beneath. The lace, chosen for its modesty,suddenly seemed scandalously thin as it peeked through the widening gap.
"Take your time," Dr. Anjali said, though her tone carried the weight of an order rather than reassurance.
The final button released its hold. The kameez slid from Nimmi's shoulders like a sigh, pooling at her feet in a whisper of fabric. Her arms crossed over her chest instinctively,a futile shield.
"Arms down," the doctor commanded, reaching for her stethoscope.
The metal disc was shockingly cold against Nimmi's sternum. It traced downward, pausing just above the lace edge of her bralette.
"Deep breath in."
Nimmi obeyed, her ribs expanding. The stethoscope slid lower, its rim catching the swell of her left breast. A gasp escaped her painted lips.
"Sensitive?" Dr. Anjali murmured, though she didn't pause in her examination.
Her free hand, warm and dry,settled on Nimmi's bare waist to steady her.
The contrast,cold metal, warm fingers,made Nimmi's knees weaken.
Ruvini made a show of it, grabbing the hem of her red blouse and pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. Her black sports bra,damp with sweat,clung to every curve, the fabric stretched taut over breasts that needed no support.
"Someone's eager," Dr. Anjali remarked, though her gaze lingered on the sweat-slick hollow of Ruvini's throat.
"Just efficient," Ruvini countered, rolling her shoulders back.
The movement made her breasts shift visibly beneath the tight fabric.
The stethoscope found its place just above Ruvini's left breast. The doctor's fingers, strangely gentle for their firmness, brushed aside a stray lock of hair stuck to Ruvini's damp skin.
"Your heartbeat is. vigorous," Dr. Anjali observed, her thumb pressing lightly against Ruvini's racing pulse.
"Must be the heat," Ruvini breathed, though her eyes never left the doctor's.
Shalini's fingers,stubby and ink-stained from endless note-taking, fumbled at her blouse buttons. The top one slipped free easily, revealing the high neckline of her beige full-cup bra. The second button resisted, her trembling fingers betraying her.
"Allow me."
Dr. Anjali's hands,precise as a surgeon's,took over. Each button surrendered under her touch, revealing inch after inch of Shalini's flushed skin. The bra, serviceable, practical, seemed suddenly absurd in its plainness.
"Arms up."
The blouse slipped away. Shalini's arms, pale and soft compared to Ruvini's toned limbs,crossed over her chest.
"I said up."
The doctor's hands guided Shalini's wrists upward, exposing her fully. The stethoscope's path was methodical, sternum, ribs, the soft space just beneath her breasts where her heartbeat fluttered like a caged bird.
"Breathe."
Shalini's inhale hitched as the metal disc slid dangerously close to her nipple.
"Deeper."
A whimper escaped as the cold instrument grazed the pebbled peak.
"Bras must be removed for proper musculoskeletal and lymphatic evaluation."
Nimmi's hands fluttered behind her back like trapped butterflies, her fingers slipping on the clasp of her lace bralette. The delicate hook resisted,whether from poor design or her own trembling, she couldn't say.
"Allow me."
Dr. Anjali's hands,cool and sure,replaced Nimmi's fumbling ones. The doctor's fingertips brushed the knobs of Nimmi's spine as she worked the clasp. A shiver raced up the girl's back, raising goosebumps in its wake.
The bralette loosened.
Nimmi inhaled sharply as the lace slithered down her arms, the air of the examination room whispering across newly bared skin. Her small breasts, pale as milk with rosy nipples now drawn tight, felt obscenely exposed. She squeezed her arms against her sides, but the doctor tutted.
"Arms at your sides. Posture straight."
Dr. Anjali's hands,now gloved in cool latex,began their assessment. Fingers traced the delicate ridges of Nimmi's collarbones, pressed into the hollows above them.
"Lymph nodes are clear," the doctor murmured, her thumbs brushing the tender space where neck meets shoulder.
"But you're holding tension here. Rotate your shoulders."
Nimmi obeyed, her bare breasts shifting with the movement. The doctor's gaze didn't waver, but Nimmi saw,or imagined she saw,a flicker in those dark eyes as her nipples hardened further.
"Now raise your arms."
The stretch pulled at Nimmi's breasts, lifting them slightly. Dr. Anjali's fingers probed the soft flesh beneath her arms, the touch clinical yet intimate.
"Any tenderness?"
Nimmi shook her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
Ruvini made a show of reaching back, arching her spine as she unhooked her sports bra with one hand. The damp fabric peeled away, revealing breasts that were high and firm,the payoff of years of athletics.
She didn't bother covering herself, instead rolling her shoulders back with a smirk.
"All yours, Doctor."
Dr. Anjali's examination was thorough,hands skimming the defined planes of Ruvini's torso, fingers pressing into the hard muscle of her abdomen.
"Flex."
Ruvini obliged, her stomach muscles rippling under the doctor's touch.
"Impressive," Dr. Anjali conceded.
Her gloved thumb brushed the underside of Ruvini's breast, ostensibly checking for abnormal tissue, but the touch lingered just a heartbeat too long.
"You think so?" Ruvini's voice had dropped, gone smoky at the edges.
The doctor didn't answer, but her next press of fingers was firmer, making Ruvini's breath catch.
Shalini's fingers clutched at the straps of her beige full-cup bra as if they were lifelines.
