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You are a husk. Specifically, you are a denizen of the Lust Layer of Hell. You live a life of pleasures and calmness, freed from eternal torment by your king, Minos. However, you, as well as other citizens of the layer, have noticed something; his highness never eats.
Of course, husks can't die of starvation; the whole Greed layer would be dead if that were the case. That doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, though. His highness is often too preoccupied caring for his city and people to realize he has gone weeks without eating. You wonder if you could help him.
You wander through the city streets towards the center; a gargantuan throne. Atop it sits your benevolent king, lost deep in thought. You climb his robe, as most do when they need to gain his attention, and stand on his lap. Beneath his crown, you can just barely make out his piercing blue eyes and slit pupils. He looks down at you.
"Ah, mine apologies. I t'was lost in mine thoughts." He speaks, clearly whispering as to not harm your ears. "What doth thou need?"
"Your highness," you begin, "we have noticed that you do not eat, nor sleep. Are you alright-?"
Almost as if on cue, a soft groan emanates from his middle. He hums in thought. "I.. suppose I hath gotten caught up in mine duties."
"Would you like me to get you something? It may take a few trips, but-" He cuts you off.
"Prithee, there is no need for that.. May I?" He holds out a hand for you to climb on to.
You climb into his palm, allowing him to lift you closer. You can faintly hear another growl beneath you. He brings you to his face, speaking even softer than before.
"Prithee, may I.. Indulge?" You pause, trying to think what he could mean. Before you can ask, his jaws part, revealing his serpent fangs and tongue. Said tongue flicks out to smell and taste you.
"Your highness-?" You begin. He stills his tongue, his breathing slow. His tongue now acts more as a bridge, and you begin to understand what he is requesting. You step onto the red flesh carefully to not slip. He makes a sound reminiscent of a purr, pulling you into his maw.
You are now laying down on the warm, wet muscle. He gently moves you around with it, coating you in sticky saliva. He hums in approval. You feel your environment tilt, his mouth opening just enough to give you light to see. You slide to the back of his gullet, feeling his throat squeeze your legs, before it opens and you are pulled in.
Gravity aids in your descent, meaning he has to swallow less. After what feels like forever, you are squeezed into a much more open, albeit noisy chamber. You land at the bottom in a pool of saliva and gastric juices, hearing him sigh in contentment. His stomach lightly churns you. You can hear his voice above. "Mine gratitude upon thee for this.."
"Of course, your highness." You answer, uncertain if he can even hear you.