The proud and renowned Valkyrie

She immediately throws a rope around your genitals, then tightens it so that blood is restricted to your poor elven stones. Her arms are strong and worn from labor. Her hair is a thick matted mess of locks which seem to be braided in a functional style. She gives a great tug, you give a quick whimper in reply, then she begins to walk ahead dragging you behind.

She parades you through the markets, you’d fit into the crowds if the rope were around your neck. Instead the humiliation swells inside of you. For the rest of the day she stops at shops, collecting rare herbs, gems, and other supplies. You of course carry all that she purchases. She treats you as though you could not speak.

...

After a day of shopping, she retires to the tavern. You ferry her items inside, as the sun sets. She ties the other end of the rope to her bed, then leaves, locking the door.

The room is cluttered, mostly with laundry at the floor. Her old socks, and used boots, next to her massive spear and large buckler. Old soiled garbs, a horned helmet, and pouch of gold are strewn on the desk and chair.