Christian waited till almost midnight, long after the lab had quieted down. Aside from security, he was the only one left in this wing of the building. And security didn't venture back into the research area.
This was his favorite time. He often worked into the early morning hours, taking advantage of the silence and privacy they provided. Privacy in particular was crucial for what he now had planned. Moving beneath the lab's dimmed lighting, Christian made his way down a narrow corridor. He stopped before a windowless door and scanned his badge over the sensor that would unlock it. As a scientist, he'd always prided himself on maintaining a clinical detachment from his research. But tonight, his hands trembled with anticipation.
The room Christian entered was his inner sanctum; only he and a few research assistants were permitted inside. The air was humid and warm, bordering on tropical. Moisture clung to him like a damp cloak. Immediately, he fixed his stare on the six-foot-tall plant to his left. Its large, green fronds had curled in on themselves in the near total darkness. Verdant tendrils sprawled on the floor around the plant's base. Christian knew from footage he'd recorded with an infrared camera that the plant was quite active even at night. It was fascinating to watch its movements, too slow to be perceived by the human eye. But when the film was sped up, the plant appeared to perform a kind of graceful ballet over the course of many hours.
It was a marvel of genetic engineering, and he was its creator. This plant species, like many others, was both male and female. Christian had designed it to detect and respond to human pheromones. While humans were the most evolved species on Earth, they were also the most selfish and destructive. Each year, countless lifeforms were driven to extinction, many before they were ever discovered by scientists. It was difficult enough to convince people to care about saving the cute, cuddly species. But plants? They didn't stand a chance in the face of human greed.
Christian fervently hoped the organism he had created, and that he now regarded with a mixture of awe and affection, would alter their perspective. If he could show that plants were capable of having humanlike personality traits, then perhaps their preservation would be deemed a worthwhile endeavor. Never mind the fact that without them, humanity would cease to exist altogether. That somber knowledge had done little to rectify the problem; at the current rate of destruction, all rainforests would be wiped out in just decades.
Christian was certain this plant would change the course of history, and he'd win a Nobel Prize for sure. But first, he had to collect empirical evidence. By being here alone tonight, he knew he was stepping outside the bounds of traditional research and that he risked his methodology being condemned by others. There was no room for error.
His hands continued shaking as he unbuttoned his shirt. Already, he was sweating from the sauna-like atmosphere. He hoped future gene splicing would allow the plant to exist in a more temperate climate, but for now, it needed continual moisture.
Over the past several months, Christian's clothes had grown baggy and ill-fitting. As his work had consumed more and more of his life, he'd lost a lot of weight. A small price to pay, he told himself. After stripping naked, he lay on the floor, with the plant towering above him. The tile was uncomfortably damp against his back, but he doubted he would be forced to wait long.
Placing his hands at his sides, he took several deep breaths and thought back to the previous afternoon. He'd been alone in this room, taking notes on the plant's growth and condition. Leaning forward, he'd studied a tendril lined with small marblelike growths. Christian still wasn't sure what purpose those appendages served; perhaps they were simply the result of a haphazard mutation. When he'd recently dissected one of the firm, round bulbs, he discovered it merely contained more fibrous tissue. The organism also had numerous tubular structures, similar to those of pitcher plants, though it didn't use any of those structures for food intake.
While peering at his creation earlier that day, Christian was positive one of its fronds had moved an inch to brush against his hand. His surprise caused him to stumble backward, and in response, the plant retreated. No amount of coaxing or stroking its leaves would persuade it to reach for him again.
Yet it had sensed and reacted to his pheromones; he was sure of it! And as he now lay in the darkness of the plant's carefully controlled environment, his desperation for more contact was almost palpable. It took effort to slow his breathing and pulse.
Minutes stacked upon one another to form an hour. All the while, Christian was aware of the infrared camera recording his naked form. If his experiment failed tonight, he would destroy the footage. But if the plant did indeed respond to his presence, he would need solid evidence to prove it.
Releasing a faint sigh, Christian battled back a surge of impatience. His hopes that the plant would readily approach faded, only to be replaced by the understanding that more was required of him. His breathing again grew shallow as he lifted his hand and placed it against his flaccid cock. How long had it been since he last masturbated? He couldn't even remember. Outside of his time at the lab, he grabbed a few hours of sleep each night, along with a five-minute shower each morning. There'd been no opportunty for self-pleasure. Or any pleasure, for that matter.
Though his face flushed at the thought of this being captured on film, he again assured himself he could delete the footage. And perhaps the plant would respond far more quickly to his arousal.
Christian began tentatively stroking. A moan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and relaxed into the sensation. "Mmm..." His hand moved a little faster; both his palm and strengthening erection were moist from the humid air. "Ah, that's nice." It wasn't all that nice, actually; he would have much rather jacked off in his bed at home. But he hoped the plant might be able to sense the vibrations of his voice. He'd spoken to it often enough in the past.
Despite Christian's unease, his cock continued hardening from his insistent touch. If nothing else, he'd get a decent jerkoff session out of this. He was about to start fondling his balls when the sound of rustling leaves made him freeze.
Lying silent and motionless, Christian heard the plant's approach. His gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling as he waited. In his peripheral vision, he thought he saw movement, but before he could turn his head, thick vines snaked over his body. It took every ounce of his will to subdue an astonished cry.