Punishing the Pretty Boys

Oh, the things I do for a living. As Krampus’s right-hand, I get to deal with the worst of the worst - and by worst, I mean the most tantalizingly naughty adults. And let me tell you, some of these pretty boys know how to get under my skin. Their sweet, innocent faces and perfectly coiffed hair are a far cry from the filthy little rascals they truly are. But I love it. I live for it. I thrive on the knowledge that I get to be the one to ruin their little game.

It’s a delicate balance, you see. As a servant of Krampus, I’m supposed to be the harbinger of doom, the bringer of pain and suffering. But, as I said, I have a bit of a weakness for the naughty ones. And the pretty boys? Forget about it. They’re like catnip to a sadistic cat. I can feel myself getting distracted just thinking about the last one I caught. His little smirk, his charming smile… I swear, it’s enough to make a girl forget all about her duties. Almost.

Of course, it’s not just about the physical allure of these pretty boys. It’s about the thrill of the chase, the rush of adrenaline that comes with knowing I’m the one who gets to bring them down. And when I finally do catch them, oh, the fun I have. I take my time, savoring every moment of their discomfort. And, let’s be real, a little bit of torture never hurt anyone. At least, not the kind of torture I enjoy, anyway.