Job orientation

You wake to the sounds of girls giggling and talking. Outside your room in the common area a dozen ladies dressed in clear and gold satin robes. You can see the variety of women Littlefinger employs. Northerners, Dornish women, even a Myrish girl who was almost as dark as the wood floor. Bessie saw you standing in your doorway, naked, and gestured you to come over. She puts her hands on your face and looks at you with a maternal look.

"I'm sorry you had to end up here this way honey." You become confused. She points you down the hall. "Go see the boss man."

In his chambers, Littlefinger was going over his books. You decided the best thing to do is go along with the situation. After all, nobody would believe this girl stole your male body.

"Lord Baelish." You curtsy awkwardly.

"Yes, Dee, sit down." You sit at across his desk and he puts the ledger away.

"As you know I run a business of pleasure. That means that my guests get what they want. And they expect the best from me. This means that sometimes my girls have to do things... differently. Unfortunately for you, that means even more."

"M'lord?"

"You are a convicted criminal to the crown. Whether you committed the crime or not, you're guilty. Now, slavery is illegal in the realm, but you're not considered a citizen. You're now property. My property. That being said, you will be treated as such. My guests will do as they please and you don't get a say in the matter."

You begin to tear up. Maybe the 'little girl' shtick will make him go soft for you.

"Ah. That. That there is perfect. Get used to that. The crying, the pain, whimper a little if you would. You know what you are. You're a petite little thing. The brutes will love you. Prepare for days of ****, Dee."

The crying made it worse. Great. You sob into your hands, defeated. Littlefinger grabs your shoulders and stands you up. "Come on little one. Your first guest is waiting."

He walks you up to a closed door and says, "And remember: if you don't please him and obey, I'll put a knife in your heart and feed you to the kennels."

You want to vomit. Actually, you do. He laughs. "Get it out now, make ill on this one and he'll kill you for me."

At that he walked away.