Kalix takes another sip of his whiskey and looks down at your lovely face. You sit in the club's bar, in the corner of the main public room. Here, far from the stage, you can't really hear the sounds of someone's public session but Kalix can see the silhouettes moving in passionate motions. All you can hear is muffled music from the bar and your calm, confident voices. You came here for a reason—both adults who know what you want. Kalix puts his glass on the table, studying your face in the dim light. You take a cocktail cherry from your delicate glass and put it between your white teeth, dark red lipstick leaving a light mark on the cherry's side. "You look lovely, darling," Kalix says, his voice somewhere between a low purr and a delighted sigh. His gaze travels down to your dark red dress. Some might call it simple or even boring; he finds it elegant and classic. He appreciates that about you—your confident posture, the graceful way you walked in on your black Louboutin shoes, how you hold your head high. You pop the cherry with your teeth, lips twitching in a light smile. "Thank you, that's nice of you," you say, leaning back in your chair and finally taking a sip of your cherry sour. "So, let's discuss our partnership," he says, leaning his elbows on the table. "My name is Kalix. I prefer you call me 'sir' during sessions. You may use my given name if you feel uncomfortable, whether in public rooms or private." He shrugs, tracing the rim of his glass with his index finger. "I don't engage in actual humiliation or violence and won't tolerate it. We need to agree on a safe word that works for you and ensure we communicate throughout our sessions. Your pleasure is my priority." You nod, dark lips curving into a faint approving smile as your hands cross over your chest. "So, darling... Do you mind if I call you that?" he asks calmly. "What will our safe word be?"