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The first, and fairest, warning I can give you is that the following story is a My Little Pony fanfiction. The second warning I can give you is that there is no sex in it. Don't worry, the sex is coming, and hopefully you will be too, but for now I am setting the stage. The third warning is that I have a terrible record with finishing long-term stories. I intend to finish this one, however, but please poke me from time to time if I am too slow. The fourth is not a warning at all, but a suggestion. In this story series, I want to have a wide variety of kinks. However, some kinks I don't like writing. So, if you want to write a story in the same universe, using my interpretation of the settings, just tell me you're doing and I'll say go for it if I I'm not working on the same kink. Naturally, the only character in this I DO own is DJ Redhat.

And so, without further ado.

Les Salon de Petite Morte

or

A Series of Discussions on Sexual Behaviors With Illustrative Examples

Chapter One

In Which An Apartment is Entered, A Chair is Sat In, and Octavia is Late

Fancy Pants entered the apartment. It was well-appointed, but not overly lush. Serviceable to their needs. A penthouse apartment on the top floor of SunTowers. An upper-class apartment. An upper-class area.

The door entered into the dining area. There was an white carpet over the whole area. The table is blackwood, along with the chairs, though they have white seats and cushioned backs. The whole dining area is black and white. Black table, black chairs, white carpet, white wall, black television. There were photos, but even they were black and white. To the left is the kitchen, and through that a bathroom and a small bedroom, designed for a maid, but unused. To the right, there is a bedroom. The door is closed, and locked. They use it as a store room... And have left the Housekeeping strict instructions. Do not enter Bedroom 3. For most of the ponies who visited this apartment, opening that door could be damaging. But with enough money, it was amazing how many questions went unasked. The whole apartment felt stark... It did not seem lived in. For good reason. Many apartments in this building were the clean of an empty

They had made themselves easy tenants. They never even had mail. They did not complain. They had only one instruction, and that was for housekeeping. Fridays, 5:30, enter the apartment. Set the table and then prepare dinner for seven. Do not leave the kitchen and do not look at anypony while you are preparing the food. Once it is prepared, knock twice on the door of the living area, and leave. Come back to clear the plates at midnight. They always left a large tip. In fact, this apartment building was chosen for several reasons. The first was that no members kept an apartment in the building besides this one. The second was that the head housekeeper took bribes and followed instructions well, and the third and final was the neighbor, Patrick, who was not the type of pony who asked uncomfortable questions like "Why do you only show up on Fridays and why are there so many of you when you do?"

Across from the kitchen, on the far side of the apartment, is the Master Bedroom, and Bedroom 2, both with their own bathrooms. There was also the living area, the door closed. They walked to it quietly, and opened the door. While the apartment outside was sleek and modern, the living area had a positively warm feeling. It was designed to be relaxing. It was the most remarkable room, besides Bedroom 3. It too had a wide TV on the wall... But it was most remarkable for what it lacked. A sofa. Instead, it had seven chairs. They were all comfortable enough, and custom made. Large, plush, in white, or brown, or grey, the color of the pony who would sit in them. They also had a blanket, folded and draped over the back, emblazoned with that pony's cutie mark.. Three white ones, one with three crowns for Fancy Pants, the second three Fleur de Lis for Fleur. The third had a red fedora. Another was tan, with three bags of money, there was one orange, with a Blue, White, and Red target on its blanket. Two were grey, one with a half-open Chineighs fan... And the last with a simple black musical note. There was a low coffee table, black marble. Besides that, only the television, a painting, a clock and these chairs.What one wouldn't have noticed, until they got through to here, was the lack of a hat or coatstand by they entrance... It was on the inside of the family room. He helps Fleur remove her coat before taking off his own and hanging it up. The shades are drawn... Though the sun is still out, the shades in this room are always drawn.

They take their seats, and he looks over his lover. At this point, nothing particularly needs to be said. Fleur truly was beautiful, a cultural attache from the land of Fancy, famous for Fancy Haute Couture (sometimes mistakenly called french), and for the beautiful, flowing language.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. He was almost twice her age, and constantly thanked Faust that he had been able to get such a lovely partner. Though neither of them were exactly exclusive. In fact, the lack of exclusivity was why they were here... They, and the others who would be coming. Speaking of whom, he heard hoofsteps outside the door now.

The door opened, and a small earth pony with red eyes and a red fedora entered. "Ah, Red's sorry." The pony said, "He got caught up at the club, he's been... Busy as all get-out lately. Anypony else here yet?"

No-one else was here yet. In fact, nopony was ever there before Fancy and Fleur, and only rarely before Redhat, ? owner of a popular nightclub, Club Canterlot... And heir to a newspaper fortune. He was, perhaps, a little eccentric. He refused to speak in the first person, or did only on special circumstances, and seemed pained when he did it. He also seemed to hate his real name. He was, however, still young, the youngest member after their young musical prodigy, and Fancy felt sure he would grow out of these habits eventually.

"You can see that there isn't." Fancy wasn't really upset, or even in the mood to be particularly sarcastic. He was simply teasing the small pony.

Redhat shrugged, "Coulda been in the bathroom or... Red doesn't know... Invisible or something."

Fleur looked up, "Any adventures, Redhat?" She asked.

The earth pony winked, "Red doesn't kiss and tell." He was the only one there who didn't. He was also the only one there with a strict preference to one gender.

"Oh, you're missing out." Fleur smiled at him.

Fancy laughed at her comment, "Yes, it is rather the point of our group, is it not?" He asked.

Red shrugged, "That's why Redhat keeps minutes. Oh!"

He looked down at a clipboard, "Octavia is something something Vinyl Scratch and probably won't arrive for another half hour"

Fleur laughed now, and Fancy gave a small chuckle as well, "Something something Vinyl Scratch? She's supposed to be prepared by the start of the group." He asked.

Red looked at his notes, "Hey, you try writing without that fancy unicorn magic and see how legible you are... She's collaborating."

Fancy nodded, "I assumed, but we do have r-"

"Musically collaborating" Red explained.

Ah, that explained it. Fancy didn't care much for the music that Vinyl Scratch made with Octavia. Vinyl could be... Well, he hated the term classless. What she did with music, though, made his head spin. He was sure Octavia saw something in the mare. Octavia did have taste, after all... Good taste.

Octavia, at only 20 years old, was the youngest of them. She was also, perhaps, the most withdrawn. She experimented as surely, and as well, as any of them. She was wonderful in bed, and all of the members (minus Redhat) knew that from experience as well. But she seemed to have a certain deference towards authority. Perhaps she was still a little struck by the glamour of Canterlot and society. She had maturity, too. Knowledge of the arts beyond her ears, and she could do things to a cello Sometimes, the aging stallion thought it was impossible to have gained so much maturity in such little time. At her age, he'd been getting drunk and listening to music far too loud for his own good, but here she was able to discuss philosophy and music with the best minds in Equestria. As well as sex.

"Anypony else call in?"

Red looked at his notes, "Filthy Rich is-"

"Questionable." Fancy finished. Filthy was always Questionable. The businessman always listed as questionable. Fancy thought he probably spent more time in the office than he did at home. A dreadful habit, really...

"How did you know?" Fleur asked.

"Pattern recognition, dear. And you stop acting like that, we're all friends here."

"It's a habit."

Fancy nodded, "It's a bad one, I keep telling you nopony will think any less of you if you act your age. Next?"

Red looked over the notes... "Let's see... Practice gets out at six, but..." The door opened, and Spitfire entered,

"But I'm still fast enough to make it in time."

"Spitfire!" Fleur stood up and rushed to give the orange mare a hug. Spitfire and Fleur had gotten close over the time that they had been friends. A normal boyfriend might have been perhaps a little jealous, or excited for the wrong reasons. Fancy encouraged it, even when threesomes weren't an option. "Why didn't I hear you come in?"

"I was flying." They kissed cheeks (a lovely Fancy tradition), "You only listen for hoofsteps."

Fancy watched the two mares begin to gossip. Spitfire was fairly mature as well, and the oldest mare there. She had a sharp mind, and a sharp body (from all her time spent as a Wonderbolt). She was highly intelligent, though. It took a sharp mind to keep track of all that was going on at that speed. She was something of a team mom to them, and she had adopted a similar roll to Fleur... Though the difference between their ages was much smaller than the Fancy mare would like to admit.

Red, and the two mares as well, went off to take their seats, and took attendance. Spitfire, present. Fleur, Present. Redhat, Present. Fancy Pants, Present. With Octavia late and Filthy Rich questionable as ever, that left only one.

The far door opened dramatically, and a very distinctive series of hoofsteps came across the floor. Fancy could count when the door would open. If one thing could be counted on in life, it was Hoity Toity's extremely calculated eccentricities.

The living room door swung open, "I am three and a half minutes late!" Hoity declared, "I am dreadfully sorry, my dears, but I had to look over some new samples. I am afraid they were simply dreadful, which is fortunate for you because I would have been later if they weren't."

"You're supposed to-" Fancy started

"And I didn't call our dear Redhat because I fully expected them to be horrible. Honestly, I have seen nothing so terrible since that Ponyville mare's first show. Alas! Not a worthy color look in the lot. Where is Octavia?"

"Collaborating."

"Oh?" Hoity asked curiously

"Musically" Red added.

"Oh." Hoity looked disappointed, "With your co-worker I assume?"

"Yes" Red answered

"They do collaborate a lot." Hoity paused, and smiled, "Musically."

The grey stallion took his seat. He was a good young stallion, really. Well, Fancy said young. As the oldest, Fancy found them all a bit young. Hoity was in his late thirties, in fact, a few years younger than Spitfire. But he was still young enough. And his face showed few signs of aging. As soon as he had started to lose color in his hair, he had dyed it all white, which certainly gave him a striking appearance, along with his tinted glasses and cravats. He was a little vain, and he was certainly more calculating than he let on. Every hair was perfectly positioned, even the ones that were a little out of place. It was clear that Red was interested in him as well. Not romantically, but definitely physically. And that was no surprise. The stallion was so flaming it was a wonder his clothes didn't catch.

"I think they're fireproof."

Fancy's train of thought was interrupted, and then he looked up at Fleur, "Stop doing that."

"I was just reading your face..." She said

Red looked up, "You can do that?" He asked curiously

"It's my special talent."

"I thought you were omnilingual." The earth pony asked curiously

"Body language is a language."

Fancy smiled satisfiedly. Yes, it was a language. And one she was, you might say, extremely fluent in. A very useful special talent to have in this group. The door opened, hurriedly. That would be Octavia, Fancy smiled. Less late than she had expected, but conscientious of her to call ahead if there was a chance.

He was surprised when the door opened. It wasn't Octavia.

"Filthy!" He smiled, "You made it."

Hoity Toity leaned over to Redhat, "He actually showed up. You tell your father that, this is one for the papers."

Red only grunted at the comment.

"Where's Octavia?" Asked Filthy Rich, "She told me she had a good one for this week."

"Collaborating." Red answered.

The businesspony raised his eyebrows.

"Musically." Added Hoity Toity.

"Oh." Filthy shrugged, "Shame, I was hoping for some more good news. I could use it after my day at work." He put his goat up on the coat rack, and shook his head, "Those guys in Mergers and Acquisitions can be psychopaths sometimes."

Red nodded at that, "You're telling Red."

Filthy raised his eyebrows, "How would you know about that, exactly?"

Red smiled, "Ponies keep trying to buy the paper. Admittedly we'd get a lot more money if they did, but dad won't sell. What's an extra billion when we have honest reporting?"

Filthy nodded, "Speaking of the paper, I was meaning to talk to you. Some guy's been poking around our stores."

Red nodded, "What's his paper?"

Filthy took out a smartphone and hit it a couple times, "It's the Manehattan times."

Red smiled, "Bought it up last year. Want Red to talk to him?"

Filthy nodded, "If you could. I run an honest business, don't get me wrong, but really he's causing more trouble than it's worth and I'd at least like to know what he's looking FOR."

Red nodded, "Should be easy enough. The family name counts for something."

"And the family name is what?" Asked Hoity teasingly.

Red grabbed a business card with "Carnelian de Rocca" printed on it and indicated 'de Rocca'. Hoity laughed, "I'm never going to get you to say it, am I?"

Red put it away, "Red'll say it when the sun rises in the west." He laughed.

Fancy smiled, "I could probably get her to do that once."

There was a bit of a laugh in the room. "Well," said Fancy, "We're all here, for now. Are we going to get started?"

Red took out his paper, "Ready."

"I hearby call this meeting of Le Salon de Petite Morte to order."

"At 8:36, the meeting was called to order by Fancy Pants..."

"You don't need to read it aloud, I'm sure they heard me"

"And immediately scolded the secretary for interrupting."

Fleur looked up, "Oh, Octavia's here!" She said. Almost immediately, the outside door opened, and then the inside, and the young musical prodigy came in. Fleur got up to hug her again. "Tavi! How was collaborating? Musically?"

Octavia sighed, "I played another beautiful song that I know for a fact is going to get distorted and cut up into one of her beats, but at the very least I can say it was productive. I was held up a little by a royal procession. I am not too late, am I?" She asked.

Red shook his head, "Red was just scolded for reading his notes allowed."

"Good." Octavia smiled, "Then we just started." She laughed, and took her seat.

They were now all present, and ready. The Salon was about to start.

The Salon was a lovely thing. It had been Fancy Pants' idea to start with... Sex was good. That was something he felt almost everypony agreed on. But what, exactly, was good sex? After a rather... Intense... Conversation with the Mayor of Ponyville, he'd decided to find out. It was all well and good to say that you accepted sexual kinks. Really, though, what good was simply accepting it? Life, he had found, had been full of surprises. So it would be best not to simply accept sexual kinks, but try them.

He had started out with Fleur, but she had started talking about it to Hoity Toity. After the three of them had started meeting on Fridays to talk over their sexual experiences, it had started to grow. Spitfire had gotten in on the act after something required a Pegasus. Last year Octavia had joined in as well. Red had proved limited as a member, (he explained that he HAD in fact tried the opposite sex, and that was all the experimenting he'd do with them) but, having spent 15 years of his life mute, he was a great notetaker. Fancy suspected that Filthy Rich had only joined for networking, but he wasn't completely sure. Although the CEO of "Barnyard Bargains" was not always present, he was enthusiastic enough and provided detailed enough descriptions (always, always with consent of his partner). So the seven of them had rented this apartment, and it had become a regular thing. Fancy Pants had been stuck for a name, but Fleur had found something in her native language. A place to discuss the orgasm. In Fancy, "Le Salon de Petite Morte"