You smile as his shivers send tiny ripples of tingles through your hand. His fear is positively appetite whetting and you casually lick the saliva from pooling on your lips. Letting the question linger a moment you close your thumb over his quaking body, his wide eyes looking from it to your own hooded lids. You run the side of your thumb from the top of his soft haired head, like a fluffy pillow you can't wait to feel on your tongue, down his muscular arms and chest, stopping at his toned, but meaty belly. You rub him like this several times, sensually, almost erotically. You can feel his heartbeat quicken from under his t-shirt.
He is about to ask again, fear pulsing through him along with the testosterone and adrenaline, making his muscles tense and enhancing his flavor, when you break the silence. "Well... my hot young morsel... while most of those ideas my competing bidders made were certainly enticing," you begin, feeling his fight or flight reflexes kick into overdrive at this mention of agreeing with the crazy plans the others had in mind for the little treat in your palm. "Instead I've often fantasized about a different path. And in all honesty, it's the same with every tantalizing young man or teen I've bought. You boys are certainly fun to play with, fun to molest, and fun to torture..."
Corbin opens his mouth to speak, his dimples stretching away from his normal winning smile into a grotesque look of abject horror, but nothing comes out except a mouse-like whimper. He knows you've done this before, and if he only knew how many of his former colleagues and friends had met their end in your roiling gut he would faint dead away.
"But ultimately," you continue, "all I really want to do with you delicious little snacks is prepare you, taste you all over, and when I'm finally tired with your exquisite aroma, mouthwatering taste, and horrified begging screams, swallow you up to slowly dissolve in my gut."
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