We watched them from behind, from the side and from the front, until at last the instructor got suspicious and ordered us out of the gym. I could have refused but there was no sense antagonizing the staff. Once outside we really didn't know where to go next Vinnie came up with a great idea.
"Hey boss, you want to know what these girls know, right? I mean, you want to know the stuff they won't tell you."
"That's correct."
"Then one of us ought to bug the change room! You saw how they talked to each other. We're bound to pick up something there."
"I was just thinking about that," I lied. "Okay, give me the equipment and I'll go do it right now."
"Hey, listen, if you don't want to…" In his own way he was begging me to let him do it, but as long as I paid his wages, I would make the big decisions. I took his tape recorder and microphone and went around to the back of the building to look for another entrance. It wasn't difficult to find a window that had been left open. Vinnie and Peggy looked pissed when I left them standing there, but I was on the case.
Inside the change room all was quiet. Girls' clothing hung from hooks inside the cubicles, the shower section was still dry, towels had been laid out in neat piles, and the smell of soap, perfume, and just a dash of pussy titillated my nose. The directional microphone would pick up whatever it was pointed at, and obviously I would have to be there to point it. A bug would only pick up a riot of babble. So the first job was to find a place to hide. A broom closet was perfect for my purposes. It bad a door that wouldn't close properly, leaving a wide enough crack for the microphone and my roving eyes. Also it smelled bad inside, a sure sign that only the cleaners went into it. I tested the equipment and made myself comfortable to wait for their arrival.
There they were, all flushed now, sweaty, hurrying to get out of their gym clothes and under the shower. The showers were closer to me than the cubicles, so there was another wait before the first disrobed body appeared. I used that time to check around for profitable gossip. Nothing. At last one of the girls appeared and turned on one of the showers. There were no partitions between them, just two rows of nozzles and tips over a raised and tiled area. Other girls followed. Once again my cock fought to get out of my pants so it could expand and stand tall! All those eighteen-year-old girls, so innocent, such hard little pear tits, fuzzy pussies, the top of the slit still visible through the down, their thighs still boyishly firm, buttocks round and pert. They stood under the showers and let the water gush down over them to make their skin shine, and then they lathered themselves up to make their bodies even more sensual.
I was dying in that closet. Feebly I pointed the microphone at various girls and recorded whatever they said, but not a word that came through the monitor registered with me. My free hand grappled with my zip. I let my cock out and it reared up in the air, jubilant, throbbing, dying for just a couple of strokes to bring it undone. All those small tits, they hardly moved when the girls bounced about! Dollops of foam covered parts of their bodies, water washed them all away, and it was like a strip show to see them covered in soap one second, and stark, shining naked the next. The instructor didn't go under the shower but stood nearby to keep a sharp eye on her charges. I wondered what was going through her mind at that moment.
I was about to succumb to acute masturbation when another girl entered upon the scene. It was the little blonde! She had on her school uniform and she took no notice of the girls. Instead she went right up to the instructor and whispered something in her ear. Reflexively I pointed the microphone at them and turned the receiving volume up as high as it would go. But I may have been too late. The instructor shook her head and the blonde left. I became impatient to find out what had been said. It wouldn't have been too difficult to turn the tape back and find out, but under the circumstances it would have been too distracting. Those girls kept bringing the beast out in me; I couldn't help myself.
They were frolicking under the showers, pushing each other and throwing hands full of water into each other's faces, and there was some wrestling here and there. The gym instructor told them to cut it out and for a moment they did. They washed themselves down and stood close together under the cascade of hot water, their pert little bottoms pointing directly at me, their hands rubbing their little breasts, faces turned up to the water. I felt like Frankenstein going through his metamorphosis! My fangs were growing along with my cock, I was covered in caveman hair, my nails turned to claws, foam dripped from my lips, my body became hunched, powerful, monstrous, and any second now I would jump from the closet with an unearthly scream and I would ravish the nearest virgin! God, I wanted to! They were turning off the showers now and toweling themselves down. I couldn't take it anymore! My hand closed around my cock, moved up, then down, and a gusher of hot sperm blew free, splashing up against the closet door. What a relief. I found that my body was drenched in sweat and that my breathing had a heart-attack quality. Only slowly, as the girls changed back into their uniforms and left the room, did my condition improve. At long last the instructor closed the door after them and I hurried out through the window before the next class could pin me down.
Peggy and Vinnie weren't far from the gym and Vinnie was looking very pleased with himself. "I got the pictures, boss," he winked, patting his camera. "We figured that since the window was open we might as well do a little surveillance, right?"
"I should have known." We sat down on a grassy knoll under a large shade tree and I wound the tape back just far enough to catch the blonde's words to the gym instructor. They were disappointing. "Was Lydia here this morning?"
"Who's Lydia?" Peggy wondered.
"Probably her friend," I said. "Let's interview some of the teachers, gang, we're bound to get a few straight answers from them."
"I think if you find Lydia you'll be a long way toward the answer," said Peggy. "Furthermore, I don't think the teachers in this school know their ass from a hole in the ground. These little girls are organized, Joe."
"How would you know!" I snapped. "Have you been reading my private eye's manual again or what?"
"I'm a woman," she said simply, "and I know when a woman is a cunning rat whether she's nine or ninety. That little blonde is a cunning rat."
"Then why don't we question her?" I submitted.
"Oh Joe," she sighed, "sometimes I wonder why I do all your work for you. If you want to break a chain you look for the weakest link. You don't start pulling on the strongest!"
I didn't bother to answer her. However, we did go to Miss Parsons' office to inquire after Lydia. The headmistress told us right away that Lydia had shared a room with Laurel for some time before the heiress' disappearance. I looked at Peggy and she looked at me. "And where can we find this young lady?" was my next question.
"I believe she reported to the infirmary early this morning," said Miss Parsons. "By the way, Mr. McCanoczek, have you any information for me on my… er… little problem?"
"None as yet but we're working on it," I assured her. We hurried off to the infirmary and found a nurse at the desk who told us that Lydia seemed to have nothing wrong with her but that nevertheless she had put her in one of the beds. No one else was sick. We closed the door behind us and carefully turned the key in the lock so that the nurse wouldn't disturb us. Then we tiptoed toward the girl lying all alone in the ward, sleeping. "Lydia?" I said.