Perverting the Games

So, a trip to the Olympic park on Tuesday – and, despite kink again being far from my mind at the moment, I couldn’t help but think a few of the sort of thoughts that provide light entertainment here.

First, to the seafood bar near to the Aquatics centre, after a morning watching swimming heats. The staff were young, friendly, trying their hardest – yet completely disorganised. Attempts to order a second glass of the (remarkably good) Olympic house white, together with a jug of water, seemed destined to fail, until a third request finally brought results. The lass struggled to our table with a tray, hands shaking, the drinks coming oh-so-close to spilling.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not used to this.” Indeed not: I imagined her next effort being less successful and the wine ending up over a guest. The supervisor would take her to one side – still in public view in the restaurant – and strap her outstretched hands soundly. Carrying the tray would be even more troublesome after that, but she’d need to be taught a lesson, and it would do her fellow waitresses no harm to see the consequences of poor service.

Next, walking to the tube station. We found ourselves behind some of the Team GB athletes, complete with official kit and security passes. One was a veritable giant of a man – a weightlifter, shot-putter or the like, we guessed. Alongside him was a petite young blonde female competitor. I imagined the scene in the athletes’ village, her late-night music disturbing his sleep, leading to her tiny frame being pulled over his immense lap, for a spanking as hard as hard can be…

And later, on my way home, I did wonder whether the smart identikit uniforms issued to the numerous Games volunteers extended to their underwear – or whether there were simply regulations in that regard. A supervisor, conducting a thorough early-morning uniform inspection of the female staff; canings for any who’d broken the rules?

Welcome, then, to London 2012: a place and time to make one proud to be British. The eyes of the world are on us and, from the utterly magnificent (and incredibly moving) Opening Ceremony onwards, I’d like to think our little nation is doing rather well so far…