Human Guinea Pig
by Vanessa Evans

I don’t think that I am being unkind when I say that my parents brought me up differently to any other girl that I know. I’m sure that they would tell you that they brought me up in such a way that would help future generation of parents and children.

You see, my father is a Human Anatomist and my mother is a Psychologist and shortly after I was born they both decided that my upbringing was the ideal opportunity use me as their ‘subject’ for their research, a human guinea pig. They intended to record my development from baby to adult.

Now would probably be a good time to tell you that I am now a 22 year old, reasonably attractive, or so I’m told, young woman with a figure of 32A – 26 – 33. I have long, light brown hair and I exercise to keep myself physically fit. My name is Mia and I have no siblings.

My story starts when I was still a baby and although I can’t remember that far back in my life, I know what happened because both my parents documented every one of my unusual days.

My parent are probably academically brilliant, but when it comes to personal computing, they are way behind with technology and computing security. Somehow, as I grew up and they upgraded their PC they managed to transfer to their new computer all the documents, videos and photographs that recorded my growing up.

One day, a couple of months ago, my father asked me to look at their PC to try to fix a problem that they were having. It was a trivial problem that most 10 year old kids these day could fix, but whilst I was fixing it I discovered all the documents, videos and photographs that recorded their finding. Okay, quite a few of the documents were created on word processors that have long since vanished and the few photos and the videos that I took a quick look at were of a poor quality, but I copied everything onto a memory stick intending to convert the documents and then read all about myself at a later time..

A week or so later I did the conversion and now have a complete record of their discoveries as I was growing up from a few months old right up to my 18th birthday when they finally stopped their research.
 
 
Now before you start imagining them bringing me up in some sort of weird, hippy, lifestyle, let me tell you that for all but the last Sunday in every month my life was probably very similar to that of every other girl in my classes at school, well until I was 15. It was those last Sunday’s in every month that were set aside for their research and recording. 

I can’t remember anything from the first few years of my life but reading my parents records and looking at the videos and photographs I discovered that on those Sundays I was naked all the time and they took all sorts of measurements of me and recorded my progress in weight, height, speech and my reaction to being naked.

As you would expect, at that tender age I thought nothing of these ‘special’ Sundays and things weren’t much different when I started going to school. They still had me running around the house without any clothes on even when friends and relatives visited. The documents tell of some of these visitors reactions to me being naked and my parents wrote how they explained my lack of clothes. I gave up trying to understand those explanations after the first sentence as they were all in some sort of medical, or something jargon.

The visitors obviously accepted the explanations because, according to the documents, they still kept coming to visit us on just about all of those Sundays. Judging by the recorded entries, all my nearby relatives visited us every last Sunday of every Month just as they did right up until I was 18 years old.

As I got older I became aware that other kids weren’t kept naked on those Sundays and they weren’t having all those measurements taken, I was the odd one out. I talked to my cousins and they confirmed that their parents didn’t do the same with them. Not that any of it bothered me at that age and it never bothered me that I was playing with my cousins, boys and girls, whilst I was naked and they weren’t.

That is until I reached puberty, and I have quite a few actual memories of those Sundays.

I became unhappy at having to be naked on those Sundays, and I certainly became unhappy that all the measuring, videoing and photo taking became a sort of ceremony that didn’t start until everyone who was visiting us arrived. Everyone was staring at the naked me, who’s body was starting to develop into that of a woman as my parents took measurements, photographs and videos of my body.

Those measurements started to include my breasts, even nipple size, the length of my slit, the distance between my labia when my legs were spread as wide as I could get them, and worst of all, they measured how far they could get the handle of a wooden spoon into my vagina. The first time that they did that last measurement they broke my hymen and when I complained my father just told me that I would be loosing it very soon so it didn’t matter.

Because my body was changing shape my parents got me to ‘model’ my body for my relatives, walking across the room and back swaying my hips like professional models do.

Whenever the weather permitted, the family gatherings and the ceremonies took place in the back garden. Sometimes they turned into barbecues with some of the neighbours getting invited. The only thing that I was happy about was that our back garden was not over-looked by any neighbouring houses although sometimes our neighbours came round early enough to witness the ceremonies.

I started to question my parents about having to be naked all day and suffer all the measuring but all I ever got was an explanation that I just didn’t understand.

I tried hiding in my bedroom but the adults sent the other kids into my room.   

I tried hiding in various parts of the house or garden but the adults always sent the other kids to find me.

I tried holding my hands on my pussy and nipples but always got told not to be shy and keep my hands away from my pussy and peanut sized tits.

To make matters worse my parents thought that it was okay for my boy relatives to put their hands all over me, and that included my feminine parts. My parents said that they weren’t doing me any harm and that they needed to record my reactions.

I found some of videos of me being groped by my boy relatives and I have to say that if that sort of thing happened today those boys would get locked-up.

During those early years of puberty I naturally grew pubic hair but one of the first things that my parents did at the start of the ceremonies was to shave all my nether regions, them telling me that their records wouldn’t be complete if the development of my vulva wasn’t being recorded clearly in the photographs and videos.

About half of those photographs and videos were of my pussy with my legs spread as wide as I could get them.

It’s fair to say that when puberty hit me I went from being slightly indifferent to my nudity and what happened at those ceremonies, to actually dreading the arrival of those days. I was convinced that the humiliation and embarrassment would kill me.

The games that I had to play with my cousins continued but they usually ended up as groping sessions and one time when my puberty as about 3 or 4 months down the road, my cousins held me down on the grass and my cousin Tom put 2 fingers into my pussy. When I got free I hit him with one of the garden ornaments.

When he told the adults it wasn’t him who got punished for sexual assault, it was me for hitting him. I got spanked by my father in front of everyone who was at our house. With me crying my heart out I was then made to stand in a corner, facing the room, with my hands on my head and one of my parents timing me to see how long it was before I stopped crying. Whilst I was standing there my father used his fingers to judge a level of dampness that my pussy had got.

As the months went by my body grew in all the right places, my embarrassment and humiliation also grew. Not only were all the above continuing but my adult male relatives took more interest in my naked body. I had to sit on their lap whilst they fondled parts of me that should have been off-limits and I could usually feel their erections, through their jeans, pressing on my bare butt.

What also started around that time was that my parents started measuring my responses to stimulation. Firstly they made me masturbate on the carpet with everyone around me, and then, immediately after my orgasm had become just history, the adults, men and women, and including my parents, took it in turns to use their fingers to make me cum again.

Thankfully, it was only one adult per Sunday.  

Needless to say that my younger cousins stared at me, totally fascinated, each time.

The words embarrassment and humiliation come nowhere near what I was feeling on those Sundays.

The strange thing on each of those Sundays, when all our visitors had left, was that both my mother and father would come to me, hug me and tell me that I had been a good girl and that they had harvested lots of useful data.

The format of those Sundays stayed the same until my 13th birthday, with everything described above happening, except for me hitting Tom, but including the spankings for no reason other than their research, when more elements was added to my humiliation.

The day after the last Sunday of the previous month, my mother had taken me to see my doctor and gave him some BS about my periods being very heavy and painful, and the doctor had prescribed the contraceptive pill. I had no intention of becoming sexually active, well except for my nightly playing with myself, so I didn’t see the point.

However, my parents thought differently. At the end of the following month when all the above had been done to me, my father announced to everyone that the time had come for me to start copulating. My jaw dropped and I just stood there not believing what I had heard.

But it was true. My parents had setup a rota of who was going to fuck me on each of those Sundays. That rota was based on the age of the males and it included all my younger, male cousins. Two males were going to fuck me on each of those Sundays.

They also set up 2 more rotas. The second rota was for who was going to eat my pussy and the third rota was for who’s cock I was going to suck, or which of the women’s pussies I was going to eat. And all this was to take place as part of the ‘ceremony’ with everyone watching.

“But daddy, I’m only 13, it’s illegal for a girl under 16 to have sex and you’re saying that you and mum and my cousins are all going to have sex with me, that’s incest and is also illegal. Besides, I’ve never done any of those things and I don’t know how to do them.”

“Don’t you worry about any of that Mia,” my father replied, “no one is going to talk about it, what happens in this house stays in this house and it’s all for medical research. As for the not knowing how to do any of it, most of it will come naturally but if necessary one of us adults will give you some guidance.

On each of those Sundays the extra elements started with me giving one of the males a blowjob or eating the pussy of one of the women, and it was ALL the women. I had to eat the pussy of both my girl cousins both younger than me.

My uncle Ted taught me how to take his cock right into his throat without gagging, and my mother ate my pussy first, telling me to remember what she was doing to me so that I could do it to the other women and girls. My mother made me cum with her tongue.

My parents scored me on how enthusiastic I was, my technique and how long it took me to make the lucky person cum and how long it took them to make me cum. I have no idea how they compensated for the inexperience of my younger cousins, girls or boys,.

Then it was me being fucked. I was told to bend over the end of the dining table and spread my legs wide. A bowl was put on the floor between my legs then the first lucky man fucked me, without a condom, until he shot his load deep inside me. After a short break, during which I was told not to move, the seconds man fucked me until he too emptied his balls into my pussy.

That was my parents favourite way for me to be fucked but some of the times I had to get on the coffee table on my knees and elbows, and I’d get fucked with that bowl between my knees.

Unlike the masturbation and the oral sex that I’d suffered earlier, there was no mention of me having to cum, and I rarely did at first. All my male cousins, and my father, were usually close to cumming before they entered me and I was often left unsatisfied.

The whole objective was to measure the amount of ejaculate that dripped out of my vagina into the bowl whilst I was kept in position for another 30 minutes after the second male had cum inside me.

How that measurement was of any use to them I don’t know as I was sure that the amount of ejaculate would vary each time.

And don’t forget that all the oral sex, and the fucking, was in the living room, or outside if the weather permitted, with everyone there watching me.
 

Needles to say that my humiliation reach new heights that first time that I got fucked.

On many of those Sunday nights I cried myself to sleep, but strangely, it was with my right hand cupping my very bare and wet pussy.

This went on for a many months and I guess that I finally learnt to live with it because I stopped crying.

My breasts grew to a AA cup, my clit started appearing on the morning of those Sundays, staying out until sometime that night, and my nipples grew bigger and stayed hard all of those days as well. At that time I didn’t associate these changes with me starting to enjoy those Sundays.

On my fifteenth birthday my mother and father sat me down and father said,

“Mia, the last few months both your mother and I have noticed that you no longer cry when you get spanked and that your pussy gets a lot wetter than it used to. And all of us have noticed that you are having more orgasms when we spank you. We’ve also noticed that you appear to have stopped pushing your cousins away when they attempt to fondle you.

I know that we ask you all about your feelings when all the others have gone home, but you’ve never mentioned why you’ve stopped crying, nor your obvious arousal. Why is that?”

“Maybe it’s because of the embarrassment and humiliation daddy. I’m a big girl now, I feel these things more but I don’t want to show it.” I lied not wanting to tell the truth.

“You also appear to be less embarrassed these days Mia.” My mother said.

“Okay, I didn’t want to tell you but I’m starting to enjoy those Sundays. After all the years of hating them, the embarrassment, the humiliation, the physical assaults, yes, you all have been physically assaulting me because I never wanted any of you to do those things to me. I even considered going to tell the police but I knew that you’d just baffle them with all your medical jargon; but, as much as I hate to say it, I’ve started to enjoy it, all of it, even eating your pussy mother and you eating mine, and giving you blowjobs father and you fucking me.

You’ve turned me into a 15 year old whore who longs for all of you to do what you do to me, not just one Sunday a month, but every Sunday.”

“We’re sorry that you feel like that Mia,” my mother said, “I’ll set aside some time each week for counselling sessions with you, I’m sure that we can talk this through, but we can’t stop the Sunday sessions, not until you are 18, our research would not be complete if we stopped now.”

“That’s right baby, we need to keep going until you are 18.” My father said.   

“You still don’t get it do you, either of you, I don’t want the one Sunday per month to stop. I want the last Sunday of the month to be every Sunday. And while we’re talking about the Sundays, just what do you do with all the videos and photographs?”

“We send them all to the university server, we’re each building quite a good paper that we are sure will get published when we finish it when you are 18.”

“So the photos and videos of all of you doing those things to me whilst I’m naked are going to be out there for the whole world to see?”

“Well yes,” my father replied. “it’s medical research.”

“It’s pornography.” I replied.

“No honey,” my mother replied, “it’s medical research.”

I realised that I wasn’t getting through to either of them, they both seemed to be blind to anything outside their precious research papers, but at least I’d got it off my chest and I felt better for doing that.

The last in the month Sundays didn’t get repeated every Sunday for the next 3 years and the counselling sessions never started, things just continued as they had been, but me being embarrassed rarely happened again and I started enjoying those days and stopped trying to fight the orgasms, just letting them happen. One of my uncles noticed my change of attitude and one Sunday he invited me over to his house when the rest of his family were away.

I declined the offer because I had started going to the university on my own, telling my parents that I was going to study in the uni library, but the truth was that I was going to hit on the male undergraduate and get them to take me back to their dorm rooms to do what comes naturally.

I actually preferred to hang around the university sports facilities, often being totally naked in the male changing rooms just waiting for a guy to appear so that I could hit on him. I lost count of the number of times that I got caught fucking one guy and it turned into a gang-bang.

My parents had turned me into a proper slut and a whore, although I never asked for money, just a good fucking.


All the above continued until I was 18 and I left home to go to university in another city. I quickly found my new university’s sports facilities and resumed my predatory searches. I was studying for an engineering degree, not doing what my parents hoped, going into the same field as either of them.

When I got my degree I moved back to my home city into a place of my own. I still see my parents quite a lot but we never talk about their research project other than one time when they told me that they had been published. The thought of all those photographs and videos being out there in the public domain made my pussy tingle and it still does to this day whenever I think about it.

 
I have never got into a long term relationship, probably because of what happened to me when I was younger, but my sex life could never be fuller or better. 

Occasionally when I’ve brought a guy back to my place I’ll dig out some of the videos of me when I was a young teen and we’d watch them together. The sex that followed is always as intense as it ever is. I guess that guys like watching videos of young teen girls getting fucked, especially when the older version of that girl is naked next to them.

One time when I was browsing through my parents records I came across the date of my fifteenth birthday and saw an entry that just said,

“Finally broken.”


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