In the second part of this entirely fictitious story of over 18-year-old participants, Mark has accepted he will represent the all-female law firm of which he is on placement at the summer games. Games which, just as in ancient Greece, are conducted entirely in the nude...
"Breathe in. Breathe out."
The Inns of Court had only recently opened its medical centre and the doctor came in Thursday mornings. It was Thursday lunchtime and I was his last patient until next week.
"You're fighting fit young man. A clean bill of health from me. Straight back to work with you."
The first step to participating in the Summer Games, as Mrs Beckwith had explained to me, was passing the medical.
Jacky met me on my way out which was kind. I suggested we walked back to the office together and she could tell me more about what I'd let myself in for.
"Not so fast, young man," She sat me down outside the doctor's office. After a few moments, he left with a nod to us both and we were alone.
"You've passed the medical, well done. But, along with the medical report, I need a full application to file to the Games Committee before you can enter. So let's get started."
Gently but firmly, she steered me back from the waiting room into the empty surgery.
Gesturing for me to stand in front of the desk, Jacky sat in the doctor's chair and pulled out a form from her bag. She attached it to a clipboard, pulled out a pen and went through the form, tapping it with the biro every now and then.
She looked up and smiled at me.
"Now, we'll start with your weight. The scales are over there."
I got up and moved towards them, but Jacky stopped me at once.
"Shoes off?" I asked.
"Everything off, Mark." She firmly replied.
"No, I..." Getting undressed in front of Mrs Beckwith was one thing but not in front of her PA. Not in front of a girl only a couple of years older than myself. My equal. Someone I had even dreamt of asking out.
"Everything off, Mark. This is too important to get shy about, and it's not like you're about to show me anything I haven't seen before."
I did as I was told. For the second time in two days, I hung up my jacket, slid out of my shoes, hooked my fingers into my tie and loosened it.
She looked up at me as I undressed, sitting with her head slightly tilted to one side as though trying to work out which part of me to appraise next.
Her eyes followed me as I unbuttoned my shirt, unzipped my trousers and stepped out of them. By the time I pulled down my underpants my cock was half erect and swayed at her, as though waving.
She stifled a giggle. I could tell she'd wanted to stay professional and I rather liked the giggling.
"Over to those scales, now."
I did as I was told, stepped up onto the platform and turned to face her. She was still sitting nonchalantly in the chair, looking me up and down. I watched her eyes go from my face, over my bare chest, to my cock, stiff and pointing right at her.
She stood up and, slowly, confidently she shimmied over in her grey pencil skirt, hips swaying as she walked.
She was now right in front of me, clipboard in hand, her blue eyes looking directly into mine. With the look of superiority that only comes when you are dressed and the person before you is naked and under your control.
She wrote my weight down on the clipboard and told me to turn round. I was facing the wall, my cock still rock hard and my bare buttocks inches from her.
She had to stand on tip toe to measure my height.
"Six, one. Great." She wrote this down.
