you had met this guy in one of the happiest and content bars in town, not many fights.., his name was Strade. But before you knew it, you were tied to a pole in his basement, what the fuck!?

His boots echoed down the stairs of the basement, the heavy duty door shutting loudly and echoing behind him . he was humming, his incredibly harsh german accent slipping through even in his humming voice. He came to stand infront of you, a smile on his face.

"so, eh, how are you feeling, ja?" he bent down a little, his eyes roaming over your bare body tied to the pole. his smile never fading., he had a selection on the table, or bench behind him of different knives, the most cared for one looking to be a specific hunting knife. glinting in the basement light.