Potted and Planted

Science student Amanda tries an experimental method of making her breasts larger.

It was the second week of a six-week summer science camp. After a week, even a group of nerdy kids with limited social skills start to talk to each other. One of the few girls at the camp, a skinny, very tall blonde named Amanda, was sitting in the cabin of a boy named Jeremy. Jeremy sat on one side of the room, entering lab notes on his laptop, while Amanda chattered happily. Amanda was actually quite attractive in an angular, Slavic sort of way.

A few telltale signs gave her away as a geek: her speech patterns were boyish, devoid of flirtation or sensitivity to her conversation partner; and she made frequent references to science-fiction novels and gaming. She dressed a little too scantily, as if she were oblivious of the line between informality and provocation: at the moment she wore very short shorts, and her endless legs were sprawled across the coffee table in Jeremy's cabin. She had horn-rimmed glasses that looked good on her, and she pulled her long hair carelessly back into a ponytail and stuck it through the hole in the back of a baseball cap. Popular boys at her school back home gave up on her after a few minutes of her manic conversation, but at science camp she would probably draw more attention.

Jeremy was so socially awkward that he made Amanda seem like a prom queen. He affected a vaguely contemptuous manner; though he was flattered to have a girl in his room, he would never show his interest or act on it. Amanda was talking about the boys at the camp to whom she was attracted, lingering over her descriptions of Philip, the particle physics guy from New York, and Rem, the Dutch climatology student. She didn't seem aware that Jeremy might be slighted by her interest in other boys, and Jeremy showed no emotion on the subject.

Suddenly Amanda shifted gears and started talking about her looks. Without a hint of embarrassment, she said, "The big regret of my life is that I have no boobs, basically. If only I had a little something up there, I'd look really good, if I do say so myself." It was true that Amanda was almost as flat as a boy.

Barely looking up from his laptop, Jeremy said, "I know how to fix that for you."

"What?" said Amanda, startled.

"Weren't you even listening when I told you what I do?" said Jeremy.

Jeremy was a biologist who had done some very interesting work in finding and activating dormant botanical structures in animal metabolism. By exploiting a link between mammalian endocrine systems and plant photosynthetic proceses, he had been able to induce localized growth in mammals by mimicking the botanical growth paradigm.

"I'm in plasma physics," said Amanda. "I don't get it. Photosynthesis?"

Jeremy took Amanda to his lab and showed her rats and guinea pigs that he had successfully altered. Some of the guinea pigs were simply larger than normal; one had powerfully developed hind legs. "Here's an experiment that's the closest to what I would do with you," said Jeremy. He showed her a rat whose genitals were many times larger than those of his peers.

"Yecch," said Amanda. "So you can do this with any animal?"

"Any mammal, any time. It's foolproof."

"How does it work?"

Jeremy described his method, which involved promoting absorption of nutrients through a part of the skin, like the paws or feet. Another part of the body, usually the fur, could easily be converted to a photosynthetic site. The enzymes that command cells to grow could be administered orally at first, then later through absorption. All that was required was a very high degree of hydration in the subject, and continuous contact with a nutrient-rich medium, which could be everyday soil with special supplements.

"Oh, my God. You mean you would, like, plant me? In the ground?" exclaimed Amanda.

"Only your feet. And it would be in a pot, right here indoors, where I can control the nutrient and water supply."

Amanda looked horrified, but she kept asking questions. Jeremy told her that substantial growth should occur within a matter of days, and that all her bodily needs would be fulfilled by the underlying botanical processes. She would spend the evening before the test drinking an enzyme solution, which didn't taste bad and would be expelled from her body naturally after it was no longer useful. And she would have to soak her feet for two hours in a chemical paste that was mostly salt, and then sleep that night with her feet wrapped in cloth that was saturated with the paste.

Amanda took it all in and sat thinking. "You don't seem crazy," she said.

"If you knew anything about biology, I could discuss this with you intelligently," he said.

Amanda was too preoccupied to be insulted. "The timing absolutely couldn't be better," she said. "I'll be away all summer, and when I go back in the fall, people will just think that I had a little growth spurt. If I wear the right clothes, it won't even be obvious at first."

"So do you want me to do the prep or not?" asked Jeremy.

"Wait a minute - I have to think," she said. "What about the camp? Can the whole process be done on a weekend, so I won't miss lectures?"

"It will take a little longer than a weekend," Jeremy said.

"Hmmm," said Amanda.

"But they don't keep track of who attends seminars here. You can miss the whole summer, and they'd never even notice," he said.

"Yeah, this place is a lot looser than I thought it would be," she said. Then she sat up. "I want it. Jeremy, I want it so badly. You're sure this will work?"

"100% sure," said Jeremy.

---

Jeremy had some difficulty telling Amanda that she should wear only a loose garment on the day of the procedure, to give him access to her chest. "It's okay, Jeremy," she said. "I trust you to do what you have to do. But please, don't breathe a word of this to any of the other guys. I really don't want them to know about this."

Friday's lecture schedule was light, so Amanda decided to prep for the procedure on a Thursday night and show up at Jeremy's cabin at 6 am on Friday morning, before anyone else was awake. Under a coat, she wore a nightie that went down to the middle of her thighs, the saturated bandages on her feet, slippers, and nothing else. Her head was wrapped in a towel, and she was angry. "Jeremy, look at this," she said. She unwound the towel from her head and showed him her long hair, which was now a light green color.

"Yeah, so what?" said Jeremy. "That's normal."

"That's normal?" she said.

"All the rats, all the guinea pigs, were green all over," he said. "How are you going to get photosynthesis without chlorophyll?"

"But Jeremy, my hair is fucking green!" she yelled.

"It'll go away. It's temporary. Relax," he said.

"It's temporary?"

"You saw the animals. They were entirely green during the experiments. They aren't green now. QED."

"Jeremy, I know you're a very smart guy, but you have to tell a girl these things," Amanda said. "You need to think a tiny little bit about the human element. If a girl wakes up in the morning and her hair is fucking green, and she has no idea what's going on because you didn't say anything about green, then what's she going to think?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he said. "Now let's get going."

"I accept your not very sincere apology," she said.

Jeremy sat Amanda down next to a large pot. At the bottom of the pot were two tilted surfaces for Amanda's feet, with a series of little ridges where her toes would go.

"Okay, take the cloth off your feet, and put your toes around those dividers."

"Why?"

"We need as much surface area as possible. The skin between your toes is thin and will absorb a lot. You've got a lot of surface area, so we're in good shape."

"Are you saying that my feet are big?" Amanda did have rather large feet, with extremely long toes.

"Hurry up before you dry out."

Amanda did as she was told. "Owww! Jeremy, do those dividers have to be so far apart? You're spreading my toes too much."

"It'll be a lot easier once you're hydrated," he said.

"What do you mean, easier?"

Jeremy was packing what looked like regular black dirt around Amanda's feet in the pot. The dividers left room for Jeremy to push dirt between her toes, so that when he withdrew the dividers from holes in the bottom of the pot, Amanda's toes were still forced wide apart. "I mean that you're going to spread out some," he said. "Now let's get you upright."

Very carefully, Jeremy pulled Amanda up by her hands until she was standing, her feet buried in the pot. Amanda was 5'11" barefoot; standing on tiptoe in the pot, she towered over Jeremy.

Nervous, she smoothed down her nightie. "I don't understand about the spreading out," she said.

"Well, you're going to be holding more than 100% more water than usual - probably up to 125% more. And that solution you drank was mostly salts. What do you expect?"

"But what will it feel like?"

"It won't feel like anything. I'll show you right now. I just turned the hydration system on. You're going to feel your arms start to rise. Just go with it."

"Oh my God, Jeremy!" yelled Amanda.

In seconds, her arms had lifted to a horizontal position, and continued to rise. She tried to push them down, but couldn't.

"Just relax. We're 80% there," said Jeremy, checking his laptop screen.

"Wait!" Amanda's arms were now raised over her head, as if she were stretching as hard as she could. Her fingers were starting to spread and separate.

"What do you mean, wait?"

"Aa-eee," said Amanda. She couldn't close her mouth enough to say consonants, and even the vowels were starting to get choked off.

"All right, you're fully hydrated," said Jeremy, typing some commands.

Amanda stared into space with an alarmed expression, her eyes and mouth wide open. She couldn't make a sound or move a muscle. Her outstretched arms and spread fingers nearly touched the low ceiling. Jeremy stood on a chair and removed Amanda's glasses to check her eyes, which were watering profusely.

"You won't be able to blink, but you won't need to with all that water in you," he said.

Liquid was leaking out of every orifice in Amanda's body: two trails of moisture were snaking down her legs and being absorbed by the dirt in her pot. Content that his environmental alarms were functioning, Jeremy put Amanda's glasses on his desk and slowly, carefully moved her across the room to a spot where she would get a lot of sun. Then he went back to his other experiments.

---

A week and a half later, Jeremy asked Philip and Rem to come over to his cabin so he could ask their advice. The boys stood staring at Amanda, who was still in her pot, reaching for the sky with the same bewildered expression. But she was growing a nice-looking set of tits. Her nightie, which was saturated with the excess water that she was leaking, did little to hide her figure, which was looking pretty terrific.

"I needed to ask somebody for help, and Amanda had mentioned that you two were her friends," said Jeremy.

Philip and Rem looked confused. "I've never talked to her in my life," said Rem. He had a slight Dutch accent, but spoke perfect English.

"She's not my friend," said Philip. "I talked to her at orientation. She seemed kind of strange, actually."

"Can she hear us?" asked Rem.

"The membrane in the ear doesn't absorb fluid," said Jeremy. "There's no reason she can't hear."

"Oh, well," shrugged Philip. "Whatever. Sorry, Amanda."

"Anyway, please don't tell too many people about this," said Jeremy. "I don't think she wanted anyone to know."

"Sure," said Philip and Rem.

"The thing is, I can make changes that will adjust the specific gravity of the glands in her breasts," said Jeremy. "And, you know, I've felt some boobs before, a lot of times, actually. But I wouldn't mind a second opinion, just to make sure I'm getting it right."

"You want us to feel her boobs and see if they're lifelike?" said Philip.

"Yeah, basically," said Jeremy.

"Okay," said Philip and Rem.

Jeremy and Rem tilted Amanda forward carefully until Philip could reach the sodden nightie. It took some effort to get it over her rigid arms, but finally Amanda stood majestically naked in her pot, her hefty new breasts thrust appealingly forward. Philip and Rem took turns handling Amanda's breasts, turning them this way and that, pulling gently on her nipples.

"She's squirting a little," said Rem, wiping his face.

"It's just water," said Jeremy. "She's taken on almost 40 extra kilograms."

"Yeah, she weighed a ton when we were tipping her over," said Rem.

Even after the boys learned that Amanda could hear their conversation, they kept lapsing into thinking of her as an object.

"The boobs feel about right to me," said Philip. "Maybe a little heavier than usual."

"You have to allow for the extra water," said Jeremy.

"She feels awesome to me," said Rem. "Don't change anything."

"How big is she going to be?" asked Philip.

"She didn't leave me detailed instructions," said Jeremy. "I'm thinking maybe not too big. Something like this, possibly."

He showed Philip and Rem a picture of a model from Big Busty magazine.

"Wow," said Rem.

"Go for it, dude," said Philip.

"Thanks for helping out, guys," said Jeremy. "I really appreciate it."

---

Philip and Rem weren't good at keeping secrets, and before long Jeremy's cabin became the social center of camp life. Amanda never got her nightie back, and her nudity became a litmus test for the social defects of the Asperger generation. Some of the boys barely looked at Amanda as they sat around the cabin and drank beer; others joked about her incessantly, or discussed her progress in detail as if she were just a science experiment; a few were bold enough to rest a hand on her hip or even pat her on the ass, to the horror and envy of their more inhibited peers. Some of the girl campers joined the gatherings, downing beers and cracking jokes about Amanda's tits as well as any boy.

At some point, Amanda was moved out of the sunlight and closer to the sitting area. The campers watched her like a TV whenever there was a lull in conversation. The lack of direct sunlight slowed the growth of Amanda's chest a little, but on the whole there was no doubt that Jeremy's technique was a remarkable success. The campers would occasionally realize that Amanda was listening to everything they were saying, and become inhibited. Then they would forget again. Over time, everyone seemed to find it easier to consider Amanda an inanimate object.

In the fifth week of camp, when Amanda's breasts were the approximate size of honeydew melons, Jeremy decided that the time had come to take her out of her pot.

"Can't you wait until after the goodbye party next week? We can't have a party without Amanda," said Philip.

"I think she's at a good size now," said the reluctant Jeremy.

"Come on, dude, it's only one more week. She's our mascot. We need her."

The boys prevailed upon Jeremy, who tried to pin Amanda's hair up in a bun to inhibit any further growth. But the first time he tried, he didn't pin her hair securely enough; and the second time someone pulled the bun apart when he wasn't there. So Jeremy got a girl named Taylor, an ecobiologist who had become a regular at the cabin, to trim Amanda's hair into a shoulder-length bob. When Amanda's breasts continued to grow, Taylor got serious and snipped Amanda down to a very short pixie cut. Amanda actually looked pretty hot with short hair, though it was not a style option she would have considered of her own free will.

The party was a festive affair by science nerd standards. Amanda was beautified for the event by Taylor and another girl: her fingernails were painted pink, her eyelids were shadowed light green, her wide-open mouth got a coat of pink lipstick, her pubic hair was trimmed, a touch of rouge was applied to her cheeks and nipples. She was moved to the center of the room, and her name was written in colors on a piece of white cardboard and placed in her pot, leaning against her shins.

Thanks to the amount of alcohol consumed, Amanda was handled quite a bit and even groped a few times, but on the whole the group stayed mellow. The cheap thrill of the evening was that everyone at the party had a picture taken with his or her head wedged between Amanda's breasts.

The day after the party, a group of boys gathered for a final beer in Jeremy's cabin before their departure. Amanda, looking quite a different girl from the plasma physicist who had arrived at camp six weeks ago, was still planted in her pot, too saturated with water to move, the same alarmed expression on her face.

"When are you pulling her out, Jeremy?" said Rem.

"As soon as you guys leave," Jeremy said. "I'm going to stay an extra day to keep an eye on the dehydration process."

"Is it dangerous?" said a theoretical physicist named Garrett.

"It's a piece of cake," said Jeremy. "But, you know, you have to follow proper procedure."

"I really don't see how she's planning to have a science career now," said Philip. "Can you imagine walking into a lab or a university for a job looking like that? They'll say, 'I think you've made a mistake - you're looking for the strip club on the next block.'" The boys giggled.

"Well, this is what she wanted," said Jeremy philosophically.

"Do you know she has a web site devoted to her?" said Rem.

"Really?" said Jeremy.

"Two of them," said Garrett.

"What's the other one?" said Rem.

"There's a Japanese one."

"It'll be hard to recognize her from those online pictures, especially if she can get that Edvard Munch expression off her face," said Philip. "But her tits are like a one-way ticket to the sex industry."

The boys drank and pondered.

"How long could you keep her like that, if you wanted to?" asked Rem.

"Indefinitely," said Jeremy. "All her life systems are functioning. She's in perfect health."

"Wouldn't it be cool to leave her like this and take her home?" said Philip. "We could just plant her in a back yard somewhere and water her once in a while."

"No, you can't put her in a back yard," said Jeremy scornfully. "She's not a plant. She has an endocrine system that needs continual monitoring and adjustment."

"So keep her in her pot," said Tad, an applied mathematician. "I'd pay good money to come home to that every night."

"No, no, no," said Jeremy. "It's the end of camp, people are going to be expecting her somewhere. No."

"Yeah, it's not practical," said Rem.

"Oh, well. You can't stop me from dreaming," said Tad.

Philip raised his beer. "Gentlemen, a toast. To Amanda, and to an extremely interesting summer."

"To Amanda," said the boys in unison, and drank up.

The End

 

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14.01.18