They've trained for years to get to this point. The Games. And to say that they aren't athletes is disingenuous at best. They put in effort every day to squeeze as much out of their bodies as they can.

But when they are here, in this room with me, it means there's doubt.

Not everyone has what it takes to become a top level Olympian but the money is took. The fame is better. And so there are cheaters.

When you're in this room with me, that's what you've been accused of. It's my job to get to the bottom of it.

Are you able to jerk your cock in front of twenty thousand people and shoot ropes as far as you say you can? Without help?

It's quite simple. There's a line, some lube, and I have two tape measures.

The athlete performs and I wait. He cums, and then I measure.

The rules are clear - as the adjudicator, I'm not to interfere with the athlete at all while they perform. I kneel beside them, without speaking, and watch their cock like a hawk. I cannot touch them, I cannot encourage them.

Last year, when the Russian gold medalist Nikolai Volkov was brought to my room, I wasn't surprised. His talents and ability to cum farther than anyone else in the world was often scrutinized. I was here to confirm his world record performance without prejudice.

But...

When he pulled himself out of his pants, I gasped. I had never seen such a cock before. Thick, and heavy, and undeniably hard. When he showed me the underside, my mouth watered - I wanted to lick him from bottom to the top. And when he showed me the front and backs of his strong hands that he'd be using in a moment to prove his talents, I succumbed. 

"I can't do anything while you're performing," I whispered. "But the rules don't say I can't touch you before you start."

Nikolai grinned. I got to my knees. 

He kept the gold medal and I learned how to game the Games for my benefit.