The Botanist And The Plant

"Eden? The newest shipment is here." I hear from the entrance door across the hall.

The familiar voice of Elias stops my writing. I grab my phone to shove in my pocket before meeting him in the mud room.

Elias is in the hallway with a tray of potted plants, varying in degrees of life and growth. He's dressed in a plain faded Yellowstone National Park shirt and loose fitted cargo pants. His dreads have started filling out past his shoulders, tied back in a bandana.

"What did you bring me, today?" I ask, looking over the assorted bunch. Leaves with spots. Flowers with stripping. Weeping bulbs.

"A desperate cry for help." He teases, motioning to walk in further. In his haste, I oblige and let him walk past first.

"Elias, you're going to track your shoes in here. Please be careful." I plead as he finds the first open space big enough to set down the tray.

The Mirror Lake Gardens research facility is one of the largest botanical research catalogs in the country. Our facility leads the research in plant specification, pest control, and pollen distribution.

Elias and I met as two people trading goods. He, a plant distributor who has "the hook up". And I am the one who can give him proper quotes on if his merchandise is worth money. We met through his sister, Lilah while we were together. After the breakup, we remained friends, Elias was happy to still have a botany specialist in his life.

"These are all fine. We can get to them later, Edie. There's something else in my truck. I've never seen something like it." He expresses, as giddy as a child at show and tell.

I'm interested in his excitement, curious what he possibly could have.

"Never seen?" I laugh off.

"Yes!" He muses.

"Think Audrey II type shit." He says with some sincerity in his tone.

I oblige and forget about the large and heavy tray at my desk, opting to follow Elias outside to his old Volkswagen Bus. I'm amazed every time I still see the old thing running.

He is quick to slide the door open and step in to move some stuff around. I poke my head around and see miscellaneous pots and gardening items strewn about with clothes and personal items. Before I look too closely, I see him pull a single item tray out with a medium sized terracotta pot.

What is that?

The plant is held up by a wire stake in the dirt, the short vines weaving and securing itself around the wire as a means of staying upright and facing the sun. There are no thorns, no petals, no bulbs. Just green vine with dark magenta striping running vertically down them. The texture bubbles up in large bumps here and there.

"Elias.. what did you bring me?" I ask, looking up at him. The satisfaction on his face annoys me to see him right.

"See! I told you, you wouldn't know!" He exclaims, a hint of laughter from the absurdity of it.

"You think it's worth something?" He asks.

"Worth something? This could be something undocumented. Where did you find it?"

"That's a secret. But do you think it's new?"

"Nothing is really new, more so it's not been found and recorded yet." I explain, my attention still firmly on the specimen.

"Can it stay here for the time being? You have your people, and I have mine here at the lab that I'd like to talk to about it. I promise it won't go anywhere."

I can see the hesitation in his eyes as he considers my stance on it.

"You promise you won't send her off to some government lab? Or feed her meat?" He asks, a smile coming back.

"𝘏𝘦𝘳? Since when did you figure that out?" I ask, amused.

"Well yeah. All plants have feminine energy. They're all girls." He states, looking at me like I'm the crazy one.

I can't help but laugh at his idea of plants.

"Elias plants have distinct characteristics to tell if they are male or female."

He shrugs and waves me off, still smiling."Yeah yeah, something about pistols and stamina." He jokes. "So how long do you plan to keep her?"

I look back down at the plant and then to his face before swaying back and forth.

"Indeterminate..? It's hard to say, really. If it's already documented, next week when you come in. If not, it could be upwards of a couple months." I say, bracing for the worst.

"And.. if it's undocumented, like you think, it'll be worth more?" He looks for clarification.

"It could be yes. Considering, if there is no information on it, it's possible that research could be extended." I explain to him.

"But that could be so far down the road.. and-"

"Take her." His tone is determined.

"She could be my ticket." He says, thinking more. I nod, not expecting his agreement so quickly.

"You're sure..?" It's my turn to sound hesitant.

"Yes, Eden. I'm sure. Take my girl and make her a star." He was serious. I open my arms and take the pot from him, nodding.

"I better hear good news next week." He jokes again, pointing his finger at me.

"I promise I'll have something more substantial for you when you come in." I assure him, already returning to look it over.

He nods and puts a hand up, making a brief goodbye. As I watch the beat up van get smaller in the distance, I turn my direction back to the more important thing on my mind.

Past the entrance and mudroom, I walk back to my desk, cleaning up the work I previously had my attention on. Everything else is welcome to wait until I can dig deeper into the curiosity Elias has brought me.

•••

Two hours. Four hours. Eight. Twenty. I've lost count pouring over research into finding anything remotely close to classifications for the vines splayed out in front of me.

The soil within the pot is hard as a rock. It's tangled in roots and has enough of a grip that makes it near impossible to extract without breaking the pot. To delay the inevitable, I've stuck closer to examining that's above the soil.

The thick ropy vines are a deep forest green and coated with a thick layer of waxy film. The more you try to rub it away, the more the wax becomes sticky and wet as it loosens and melts under the heat of your hand. The bright magenta striping is inconsistent in length and width, but common enough to be considered a pattern to some degree.

Frustration of no records or conclusive testing leads me to believe we have no record of this species. The inevitable is here in front of my face as I look back at the pot.

I'm gentle with my approach in marking clear lines on the pot, chiseling at it to break the pot open with as little broken shards as possible as to not damage it.

As I'm clearing the debris, it becomes more unclear what I'm dealing with. What I assumed was hard and almost petrified soil and roots is much more.

What the fuck is this thing?

A mass of more vines hard-pressed together keeps the memory of the pot without its constraint. The longer it grew in there, the more it formed and preserved itself from within.

I start to pull the vines apart, loose dry dirt falls off it and across my workspace. The wax is rubbing off on my hands, coating them in the film.

I glance at my phone as I see a notification pop up. It's at this moment I realize just how late it is. A day and a half of staring at a plant? I need to go home to shower and sleep. I can't stay hunched over my desk like this.

I sit up from my spot and stretch, blinking a couple of times with the intention of waking up a little more. The room is dark other than the light from my computer and small desk lamp, building empty.

Before I pack up for the evening, I head to the bathroom to wake myself up more with the help of icey wet hands to the cheeks and neck.

There is hardly any difference. My hands are quick to reach the same burning sensation as my head. My hands receive the same treatment as they slowly feel almost numb with warmth, but not hot. Tingling. My body floods with the same warmth, lighting an electric feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I need to go home and sleep.

When I come back to my table, I'm caught in my own tracks as I stare at my station. Movement. Slow and steady festering movement.

I approach cautiously, staring at the vines. The hardened and compacted root system was loose and broken up. The lump of vines inches and squirms like a pile of worms.

The heat in my face feels hotter, radiating, as I reach out and grab at the green ropes.

As soon as my hand makes contact, I feel a quick pull and grip on my wrist. The vine quickly weaves itself around my hand. In disbelief, I watch as it constricts around me. I quickly use my free hand to pull at the vine and remove it. Before I can pull away, another replaces it on my free wrist, winding around in a sturdy lock.

I laugh, perturbed by the oddity as I try to move and slip my hands free of it. To no avail, they do not budge in the slightest. Instead, a newfound wave of panic and firey warmth washes over me.

The vines are more alive than ever as I struggle against them. It feels like it's no use as it pulls my hands forward up against the workbench. The plant pulls me more and I have no choice but to lean over the bench until my upper half is laying flat across it. I feel mortified as I'm bent over, struggling. Sweat trickles down my brow while the heat burns under my skin. I'm not sure if the intense warmth or the tingling concerns me more at the moment.

That confusion is quickly cleared up as I feel vines slink past my side and crawl down to the linoleum. It wraps around the middle of my thighs, squeezing the delicate flesh.

"Woah woah! Hey! I am a friend! Can you understand me? You can put me down now!"

My voice cracks by the end as the vines lift both of my legs up, forcing them open. My long skirt rides up higher as it forces me to open.

I can't help but feel enticed by the freak plant. As much as it disturbs me, the heat I feel on my face and pussy is brain numbing. The stickiness of the wax I feel isn't the only thing warming up.

What's come over me?

I feel a nudge at my panties, rubbing at the quickly dampening fabric. It makes my pussy burn with a desire to be touched. To be stroked.

My need is heard soon after. A warm and wet tongue rubs against me. It makes my thighs tremble as it lashes up and down my slit.

The only thing I can think of is pussy. The wet sticky pleasure between my legs only makes me think of how good it must feel to pleasure something this well. To hear a woman moaning from the pleasure of me between her legs. I can taste her cum on my tongue. How badly I want to hear her orgasm. My hips roll at the thought.

"Fuck me... Holy shit~"

I feel the haze of lust taking the rationality from me as I look over the mass of vines on the table. I can make out something other than green at the center.

Like the striping, I spot a dark magenta center that the vines attach to. I assume it is the heart of its life force. Upon further inspection, the head is more than waxy looking. It looks to be much more wet in its flowering folds and slit.

Sex on the mind, I let my head fall into the pillow of vines, pulling my lips to the wet slit. It's sweet and earthy, the wetness is thick and coats my mouth like honey. As I do, the vines stroking panties pushes harder, attempting to break the cotton barrier by sheer brute force.

It turns me on more, moaning into the wetness. My tongue searches for anything in particular as I lap over the exciting new find.

Its grip on my wrists loosen and free me from their hold. I immediately yank them into myself, able to reach down and pull my underwear to the side, wanting. The hairs on my arms raise as I feel it plunge into me. My hips tense, moaning loudly as it finds my clit with the annoying garment pulled out of the way.

My own desire to give pleasure is reinvigorated as I feel my precum slick pussy being played with. My own tongue is desperate in comparison, unable to hold back the moans.

My pleasure is inescapable as I feel it inside me, filling me up as the sticky wax coats every inch, inside and out. I can barely stand it as the plant plays with me. My orgasm mounting in pace to reach a climax.

Within minutes I feel the icy hot rush over me and burst from the pit of my stomach. My clitoris is swollen from the attention and is becoming quickly sensitive to the aggressive suction on it.

My own tongue pressed into the mound of folds and delicious flowering pedals as I cum. It's the closest thing to existential ascension I may ever describe.

The taut and tense muscles that were once hard quickly lose all retention, relaxing and leaning into the table with the full weight of my body. I feel as if I was put through an intense deep tissue massage, aching as the vines retract from between my legs. I watch the flower close into itself, hiding away once more. It's near sobering.

After a break to compose myself, I stand up, pulling my skirt back down to its full length and cold wet panties back into place. I stare down the unknown species in front of me, a small smile coming to me.

"Make my girl a star."