>You are Anon, trying on Rarity's take on the playboy bunny suit for stallions.
>It's still a work in progress, but at least this version gives the boys a little room to breathe down there.
>For her part, Rarity is frowning at a report from her accountant.
>"Not quite enough... I'd need at least..."
>You take a few awkward steps toward her, not sure how you feel about the prototype.
>It covers your butt and technically your balls, but a good portion of non-ball sack is open to the air.
"What's up?"
>Rarity sets the report aside and looks at you apologetically.
>"Ah, you've changed, Darling? How are you finding the fit?"
>You shrug.
"Pretty good, actually. Feels kinda weird to have ball cleavage on display, but I imagine your regular customers will be more used to that. Now what are you worrying about over here?"
>She makes a few notes and sighs.
>"It's nothing too weighty, I had just hoped I would have enough saved to expand into Fillydelphia in time for the Fall season."
>You glance at the spreadsheets, not that you really know what to look for.
>Rarity smirks as you abandon the effort and sit across from her.
>You roll your eyes.
>You being bad at math has nothing to do with being a guy, no matter what she says.
"How about going public?"
>The fashionista raises an eyebrow.
>"Going public? Advertising that we can't expand into Fillydelphia yet?"
>You shake your head.
"No, I mean going from a private company to a public company. Selling stock to fund the Fillydelphia branch."
>She frowns.
>"We already sell as much stock as we can, please explain exactly what you mean by a 'public company', darling."
>You scratch your cheek.
"I would have thought... Well, what I mean is you would make, like, one hundred or so stocks? Basically, whoever owns at least one stock gets a proportional percentage of ownership of the company. As your company grows more successful, the stocks become more valuable and can be resold at a profit."
>Rarity tilts her head in consideration.
>"How would such partial ownership work? Especially if the stocks are being bought and sold at a whim."
>You shrug.
"I think everyone-"
>"Everypony"
>You glare at her, but she just smirks.
"I still say that's speciesist, but whatever. Everysmolhorse who owns a number of stocks above a threshold amount attends stockholder meetings and has a say in how the company is run. That's why you should always have more than half of the stocks yourself, so no o- no smolhorse can completely overrule you about how you run your company."
>The mare looks at you skeptically.
>"So I would be taking money in exchange for having to listen to a bunch of busybodies who may or may not know anything about the fashion industry for the rest of the time that I own the business?"
>You smile sheepishly .
"Yes?"
>Rarity shakes her head with a chuckle.
>"I still have a hard time believing your world was run by stallions, but this stock scheme is exactly the sort of thing overly meddlesome stallions would come up with."
>You squawk.
"Hey!"
>She gives you an amused look.
>"What other reason would they have to invest in stocks if it wasn't to meddle in mares' work?"
>You definitely do not pout, even if Rarity is making her 'Oh how cute, he's pouting' face.
"Look, the main thing most people did with stocks is trade them. Like, you would try to buy them when they were cheap, then sell them when they were valuable."
>She raises an eyebrow.
>"People would buy stock from companies that were in decline?"
>Okay, you might, just maybe, be pouting.
"Well, it might go up in value, or there are shorts and limit buys and stuff."
>Rarity raises her other eyebrow.
>"And those are?"
>You stare down at the table as your face heats up in embarrassment.
>You mumble,
"I dunno. Stock things."
>Rarity trots over and pecks you on the cheek.
>"That's okay, darling. You are quite easily cute enough to not know how even human business works."
>You cover your face and groan.
"I'm not cute."
>Your marefriend giggles.
>"You are adorable. And you gave me an idea for what to do."
>You brighten up immediately.
"I did? What is it?"
>She smirks.
>"You highlighted how nosy stallions can be, so I thought I would offer the Fillydelphia elite a one-time deal. For a significant investment, I'll give them a custom adjustment of one of the Fall line of outfits and send them updates about who else of note has bought which outfit from me for the Fall season. Not only will the investments pay for the initial costs of setting up a branch, but once it opens, the stallions will rush to get their preferred outfit, and then choose even more once they know what they are up against. It will be a fashion feeding frenzy! Wahahaha!"
>You smile in admiration of her cunning and enthusiasm.
"Sounds like a good plan, though sending all those reports sounds like a pain in the flank."
>Rarity shrugs.
>"That's why it's one time only, darling."
>You grunt in understanding and stand up.
>You feel the boys get some air and glance down at the damp patch on the stool seat in mild disgust.
"Yeah, ball cleavage might be a mistake. Leaving ball sweat everywhere can't be hygienic."
>Rarity has the grace to blush.
>"That is a feature, darling, not a flaw."
>You roll your eyes.
"Mares."
>She smirks.
>"But you still love me, even if I would drag my teats across two miles of broken glass to huff your ball sweat."
>You pick her up and throw her over your shoulder.
"None of that, I like your teats as they are, plump and not lacerated by miles of broken glass."
>Rarity hums happily as you carry her to the bedroom.
>"Then it is a good thing that I can huff straight from the source."
>Your marefriend is many things: cunning, ambitious, eloquent, graceful, generous, loving, and a huge pervert.
>You throw her onto the bed with a pomf.
>But you wouldn't have her any other way.