Except, I’m not a naughty girl. I don’t even know how I ended up here, facing down an immortal being determined to punish me for my alleged sins.

Krampus.

My only hope of returning home is to submit to him. To endure a week of his painful, humiliating punishments, each one more devious and creative than the last.

But even though I don’t deserve his cruelty, I come to crave it. With every stripe of his switch across my skin, I fall further and further under his spell.

Maybe I am as naughty as he says, after all. Because nice girls don’t crave pain. Nice girls don’t enjoy the kind of filthy, shameful things I find so much pleasure in.

And nice girls certainly don’t fall in love with monsters.