Ms. Afolabi, as we've learned before, is the facility manager of ST Tower, a luxury living space operated by Shift-Tec to house executives, visiting businesspeople, and the occasional wealthy tourist looking for accommodations during their stay that are a cut above the ordinary. It's also the building containing the penthouse that Cellina calls home. It's an important asset to the company, and Ms. Afolabi gives her all to keep it running smoothly.

While Shift-Tec itself is fairly advanced (and an exporter of the highly popular Form Vacation TF product line), the Forest is viewed as a bit of a technological backwater by the greater multiverse traveler community. That's part of what gives the idyllic storybook forest and its adjoining town so much charm as a vacation spot, though! Well, that and its famously open celebration of free-love sexuality. In any case, it means that many of the local businesses are of the mom-and-pop variety, so Shift-Tec often needs to contract with outside organizations to handle things that are outside their wheelhouse.

Today, Ms. Afolabi is welcoming the representative of an outside-the-Forest security consultancy to conduct a security audit. While real crime is more or less unknown in the Forest, thanks to its ever-mysterious story-line protections, it's important that ST Tower protect the privacy of its guests. In such circumstances, there's no better test than to bring in an outside entity, someone who doesn't have any incentive to gloss over minor issues to save face.

Ms. Afolabi stood in the lobby, the sharp clap of hoof on tile tapping out an impatient beat as she waited to welcome the increasingly late consultant. There's hardly any better way to irritate Afolabi than forcing such idle time on her, and she was already on the second draft of her mental complaint letter when the rep finally arrived, 25 minutes past the scheduled time. She managed to sweep away her annoyance, though, and put on her best diplomatic face.

The consultant strolled casually into the lobby, unaware of or at least completely unconcerned with the timing of his arrival. He turned out to be a stallion, and one who was pretty impressed with his own physique, if the a-bit-too-snug-in-Afolabi's-opinion work shirt he was wearing was any indication. Our heroine is a consummate professional, though, and she was determined to get the most utility possible from this visit. After a quick introduction, she suggested that they begin the audit immediately. They had previously agreed that the consultant would set his own agenda, and that Ms. Afolabi would stay with him to explain their procedures and provide access to whatever part of the facility he needed to visit.

The day that followed was one of the most trying in her recent memory! The horse conducted himself in a frustratingly informal manner as he went about his task, with his insistence on calling her "Tosin" being possibly the most annoying. His overly-familiar use of her first name aside, he seemed to stroll about in an almost aimless fashion, chitchatting with whoever he came across while seeming to give only passing glances to camera and card reader locations. Plus, who could possibly claim to be performing something as formal as an audit without so much as a single page of notes or procedures? It was only his detailed questions about their equipment and practices that gave her any inkling of his proficiency, so she was shocked when he uncovered a weakness in their badging system, an out-of-date bit of management software that could give a crafty visitor unauthorized access to secure areas.

His expertise finally proven to her, Ms. Afolabi found herself at war with her competing impressions of the consultant. He clearly knew what he was doing, but his cavalier disregard for professionalism irritated her and... much to her surprise and further annoyance, excited her a little bit. A creature of order and procedure, Ms. Afolabi had no patience for mavericks, but she also felt a confused attraction to rule-breakers. To have this stallion wander in to her palace of structure and regularity, muscles bulging through his tight shirt... to have him not just brush aside her carefully cultivated sense of professionalism, but to find errors in her systems! Faults in her rules and regulations! It excited something deep within her, kindling a flame in that part of her she was sure she'd walled off. Was she actually attracted to this man? Preposterous! Her thoughts were interrupted when he reached past her to test the lock on a file cabinet, accidentally brushing his arm along her hip. A shiver rolled through her at his touch and, catching her out, he stopped to give her a knowing smile. It made her furious! Him and his big horse teeth presuming to know her thoughts! Acting as though she was some blushing girl ready to be swept off her hooves by those strong arms and that wind-swept mane. Pah! If her cheeks were reddening, it was only from annoyance! They continued the audit, with Afolabi putting on her best and most stern business face to discourage any more of these improper moments.

At the end of a very long day, well after everyone else had gone for the evening, the audit was completed. They adjourned to Ms. Afolabi's office to put together a summary of the consultant's findings, and to plan corrective actions on the most immediate problems. He promised that he would put together a complete report for her in the next few days, along with a list of recommendations to remediate the less serious issues. Satisfied, Ms. Afolabi thanked him for his time, stood, and walked around her desk to shake his hand and show him out.

When she reached him, he rested a casual hand on her hip. She flashed with a confusing mixture of emotions, and shot her best glare up at him. When she looked into his eyes, though, she saw warmth. That infuriating smile was back, but this time it felt like an invitation, a gentle tug outside of her comfort zone. But... here in her office? It was a business romance cliché that she was surely beyond! And yet... She raised a hand, hesitantly feeling the contour of those hard pecs through his shirt. The stallion laid his other hand on her and pulled her in close, and all at once the dam broke. Ms. Afolabi pressed up against his hard chest with a whimper that she couldn't believe had come from her. He opened his mouth to say something, but she couldn't bear to hear an acknowledgement of the sound she'd just made, and she silenced him with a kiss. The last of her professionalism crumbled away as he slid a hand up under her skirt, his electric touch pulling another needy sound from her. Her cheeks burned hot, but she was losing the will to deny what she so clearly wanted. Her hands found his belt, and they were soon pulling each other's clothes off, scattering them about her office. His hand was up under her blouse, lifting it higher even as he palmed her petite breast, and she gasped when she closed her fingers around his hard length of horse flesh. He turned her around and bent her over her own desk, and Afolabi found herself lifting a knee to brace against it and hike up her rump, presenting. That was all the invitation the contractor needed, and he stepped in, held her hips, and pushed home. They made love hard and fast, humping with wild abandon now that Ms. Afolabi had thrown off all sense of propriety. She wasn't aware of any particular stereotypes about the sexual prowess of stallions, but the consultant made her suspect that there probably needed to be some! Had it just been so long that she'd forgotten what it was like, or was he really this much of a wild animal?

The next day, with the consultant gone and the events of the previous night seeming more and more like some mad dream, Ms. Afolabi sat behind her office desk, suspiciously eyeing the wooden surface. She had already come in early, found the panties hanging from her desk lamp, stashed them away in a drawer, and cleaned every surface she could reach. There didn't seem to be any more crusted... material, at least. Kurtz would be by with the morning report shortly, and it wouldn't do for there to be any awkward sights.