The voice woke you up from your sleep and pulled you back into your cell, chain up, cold, and fearful. A long sheet of light crossed the dungeon floor, alluding to the entrance of two blue elves from upstairs. Their footsteps drew closer and you shy away.
In the other cells, Beoga girls were chained up similiarly. The standard arrangement for a Beoga was to have their arms crossed over their heads, exposing their armpits and their feet uplifted in wooden stocks inches in front of their face. The full package: so guards and prospectors interested in ticklish Beogans could admire their dusky smooth skin, their slim youthful faces and most importantly, their big soft Beogarin feet.
You yourself are quite a specimen, or so youre told. Like most Beogas, your feet are smooth and elegant, a lovely shade of brown that the blue elves seem to covet. You wiggle them in their stocks, nervous.
"I have not," confessed the other blue elf. "So I will divert to your expertise then."
"This one is quite adorable. She can speak our language, retaining only a slight accent." They stop by your cell, two tall shadows. "See her distinct Beogrin feet? The way the toes bunch together at the pinky toe, and the tall Beogrin arch? Thats where Beorgin girls are most ticklish and it is a wonderful way to discipline them."
"I love her dusky complexion," marvelled the other. "Can I give her a test run?"
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