Rosco J. Murtson

Adoption Agency Girl

Chapter 1

Standing on the scales to be weighed and measured, little Jane White was still trembling with cold and fear. The smock the little girl wore, her only garment, didn't offer any protection. Sleeveless, tied at the neck but wide open down the back, its rough cotton came only to her hips.

She was cold, and everything about the day had been cold, cold, cold. She'd been abandoned by her parents, taken in by the police, and delivered to this concrete mausoleum known as the Youth Advantage Agency in one day. The people at the agency received her in a cold, sneering way, as if she was to blame for needing the charity that a foster home could provide. Then Jane had been made to take an icy shower in a cold concrete shower stall.

When she emerged, her clothes were gone and the nurse had left for the night. The Director of the Agency was waiting to give her the physical she had to have before she could join the other unfortunate girls at the agency. It was the worst day of Jane White's fourteen-year life, and all she could do about it was shake from fear and cold and try to keep from crying.

"Five feet one inch, one hundred and three pounds," Harold Scantland intoned. "Step off the scales and get up on the examination table."

Scantland held her elbow. He was itching to get his hands on more of Jane, most especially on that impertinently rounded little ass that she was unsuccessfully trying to cover with the inadequate smock he'd picked out for her. Sooner or later Scantland got his hands on all the choice girls that passed through his doors. And Jane White was so choice that he was determined to fuck her just as soon as possible. If she was as good as she looked, it would be a long time before he let her slip into the hands of some foster parents.

He ran his fingers lightly up the girl's arm, savoring the way she cringed away from him. "You wouldn't be cold, would you?" he said, leaning close, looking into her widened blue eyes, breathing her young, clean scent.

"F-Freezing. Isn't there any… heat in this building?"

He patted her arm reassuringly. "I'll take care of you," he said, and moved to turn up the thermostat in the room. His prick was growing hard already. It felt good to rub it against the countertop as he made hot tea from the kettle on the hot plate. Scantland blocked her view as he added honey, cinnamon, and liberal dollops of rum to the two steaming mugs. To Harold Scantland, Jane was the picture of innocence going to waste.

She had wide blue eyes that looked up to him as her only friend in the world as he handed her the spiked tea. She had a round, pretty face, a slightly uptilted nose, and sweet cupid's bow lips. Those lips would be just fine wrapped around a sliding cock, Scantland thought, and her plump little cheeks would look great all sunken in with suction.

Jane's hair was glossy black, healthy looking, falling in slightly bedraggled waves down to her shivering white shoulders. She had fine shapely legs, clasped tightly together as she sat on the edge of the black leather-covered table. And under that rough cotton smock were ripening young breasts just waiting to be plucked by experienced.hands. Harold Scant-land knew. He'd peeped through the crack in the door to get a good look at her as she'd been showering.