#cb2

Shay Mitchell via CB2

by inconnu

Keisha Lance Bottoms & Jon Ossoff

Oops, forgot to install Counter Strike Source! :P

FantasyFeeder: link

P@treon: link

Summary: After a lunch service gone terribly wrong, Connie realizes she must step up her game and truly step up into her assumed role as "Constance Caprisky", eccentric and haughty sister of a tech billionaire, for Kurt's protection. Meanwhile, Moira makes a friend in fellow cater-waiter Bernard, who, while apologistic towards the feeders on the island on the surface and envious on a deeper level, definitely has pure intentions when it comes to her, right?

A bit of what to look forward to: appetite stimulants, mind-control themes, brainwashing, and promises of lots of weight gain to come!

EXCERPT

"Good," said Bernard as soundlessly, Moira pulled the cork from the bottle of wine he had just walked her through opening. The dining room was silent this time of night, illuminated only by moonlight streaming through the windows. "Now sell it to me." 

"Here we have the Luisa 1995 Piedmont pinot noir, wonderful year for wine, by the way," said Moira, talking out her ass. "Now, this is going to be a light and inoffensive red wine–"

"Deeper," instructed Bernard. "More sensory." 

"Okay…um…a softly structured and fruity–"

"Make me want it, Moira. Make my mouth water for it." 

"Thisisgonnabe a REFRESHING and VIVACIOUS red, BURSTING with the TEMPTATIONS of an ORCHARD OF SUCCULENT FRUIT WITH A FINISH OF ROSE PETALS AND TRUFFLED HONEY, AND IF YOU'RE STILL UNDECIDED ON YOUR ENTREE, THIS WOULD PAIR ELEGANTLY WITH OUR LEMONY AND JUICY FALL-OFF-THE-BONE PORK CHOP PICCATA!" spewed Moira, improvising at a million miles a minute as within her, her nerves fried. She finished panting, as if she had just run a hundred meter dash. She could have fallen from the effort of that demanding spiel, but her palms caught her as they landed against the table cloth. In the semidarkness, Bernard applauded, pacing a circle around her. 

"Excellent! Brava! Now, you're going to set the cork down on the table in front of the diner who ordered the bottle," he explained. "They're going to run their thumb over the wet part. This is how they can tell the wine isn't corked–'corked' meaning the cork has been exposed to fungal contamination. If it feels spongy and moist, then the bottle is good. If it crumbles at their touch, they'll send it back. You get out of here, you go work for any regular restaurant and get a customer who picks up the cork and sniffs it, you know you've got an idiot on your hands who doesn't know his wine." This was the latest of the trade secrets he had shared with her over the course of her table-service education regarding how to discern a true gourmand of class from a common phony. It felt delightfully mischievous, to revel in all he had to teach her as he tattled on society. Dare she say, it made her feel special? Too bad he wasn't her type. 

"Now, you're going to pour a sample for the person who ordered, and as you finish, twist up, so you don't spill, like so," he continued his lesson with a demonstration, pouring a ruby-red sip of wine into a glass preset on a nearby table. "By the by, if you'll indulge my curiosity," he said, swirling the wine in the glass, "why seek out this job at Abundance, why come to the CorpQuest retreat, if the thought of weight gain leaves such a bad taste in your mouth?" 

"Well, like I said, it's only when it's on purpose," clarified Moira. 

"And if it's an accident?" 

"Look, I get it," she said. "Sometimes you start a new medication, or you get a desk job, or you get injured and have to be off your feet for a while. And sometimes, being heavy-set is just in your genetic code. And to be honest, I do like the look and feel of a big dude. They're soft…their hugs feel so warm and sweet…but if you're pushing yourself to overeat, then it's your fault if something happens to you, is my reasoning." 

"I see. So you're here because…" 

She sighed. "I followed a guy here. We dated for a while, but when I found out he was deliberately making himself fatter, I begged him not to throw his life away…" She sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "He refused to listen to me, and so, we broke up. Now he's here with our boss…well, she's not really our boss, but she's the founder of our–you know what? It's complicated," she said. "But I saw him at breakfast this morning and he looked like he was having a terrible time, so who knows? He might yet come to his senses. Sorry, no offense. I know you like this stuff."

He sighed. "I'll compromise with you here: a lot of the feeders we get at this event employ practices that are simply indefensible." 

"Then why do you defend them?" 

"Because when you meet one that truly has a good soul," he said, "it makes it all worth it. You can feel the nourishment secondhand, watching them do what they do. Take, for example, Leonard Caprisky's little sister, the first-timer. I don't know if you've met her, but let me tell you: that haughty act of hers? It's nothing but a defense mechanism. Why, she even called me a 'pathetic lackey' at the desk today, and I didn't even mind, because I can see right through her, and I know she's only trying to protect that young man she brought with her from anything that might stand in the way of him achieving his wildest dreams, and, well…I'll endure the bad, if it means I get to walk among the good. Just don't let it get to you." 

“Wait, Leo Caprisky? CEO of Mybrid, THAT Leo Caprisky?” asked Moira, shocked. “I didn’t even know he had a sister! And how could he be a feeder? I know him! He plays golf with my dad.” 

"I'm sorry you're having to encounter some of the bad eggs when it comes to feeders in this place," said Bernard, "but many of us are not so different from ordinary people, and without you ever knowing it, or it ever even affecting you, we might be your brothers, cousins, or colleagues. Now…" He pulled another wine glass from the table and poured a heavy measure. "You've done well tonight, but now we have a conundrum. We're technically not supposed to open any wine off the clock. To assuage your conscience, I'll shoulder the guilt in full…" He held the glass out to her. "If you assist me in getting rid of the evidence." 

She took the glass by the stem and sipped from it. Flavor notes of rich red fruit, cherry and plum and something else she couldn't identify, tickled her tongue, and as the liquid slipped down her throat, the most wonderful buzz sparked in her brain, seeming to trickle down her hairline and into her cheeks as her lips spread into a smile. 

Black In Design Collective | CB2

This remarkable piece draws inspiration from the traditional 4-legged Kikuyu stools made specifically for women out of singular tree trunks—a stool often found in the center of the "nyumba" or home. Designed by Sandra Githinji of Sandra Githinji Studio, this coffee table features a top with a mesmerizing pinwheel pattern made of ebonized oak certified sustainable by the Forest Stewardship Council ® (FSC). It rests atop four solid ebonized oak legs whose geometry marries clean horizontal lines with gentle interior-facing curves. CB2 exclusive.

Dome Round Ebonized Oak Wood Coffee Table 47.25"Wx47.25"Dx14"H Designed by Sandra Githinji Studio for the Black in Design Collective Engineered hardwood frame with FSC®-certified ebonized oak veneer FSC®-certified solid ebonized oak legs Made in Indonesia

Carved of honed travertine stone, this triple-tier pedestal by Sandra Githinji Studio references layered thatched roofs common within sub-Saharan Africa—the stone's natural veining embodying the textural qualities of grass reeds. As travertine is a natural stone, each piece will have unique variations that produce a one-of-a-kind piece. CB2 exclusive.

Tukul White Travertine Pedestal Table 20"Wx20"Dx30"H Designed by Sandra Githinji Studio for the Black in Design Collective Engineered wood frame Natural honed and unfilled travertine veneer Variation in color and activity of travertine is to be expected; each will be unique Imported

"Muthoni wa Kirima was a top-ranking female freedom fighter in 1950s Kenya," says Sandra Githinji of Sandra Githinji Studio of the creative muse for this stately bust. "She refused to cut her hair until her people tasted the fruits of independence." Nicknamed "Weaver Bird," this remarkable woman is the inspiration behind a casted fiber-clay bust that's suitable for indoor or outdoor display. CB2 exclusive.