Everything begins with a single written line: where you are, when you want her, how long for, and, if you have been reading, which name or which chapter. A reply with a name and a window follows; forty to sixty minutes after the hour is agreed, in the centre, you hear the knock.
The procedure has four movements and no hidden ones. You write to us. The reply comes on the same thread, with a name and an arrival window. She travels, forty to sixty minutes to anything inside the ring. She arrives, the balance is settled in the room, and the commissioned time is yours entire. No form and no account interrupt that sequence, and where a booking carries a deposit the exact sum and how to send it are written into the confirmed thread before she sets out.
Editors ask writers for four things, and we ask you for the same: a place, which can be a hotel's name or a district and nothing more; an hour; a duration; and a choice, whether that is a woman from the masthead or a chapter from the contents page. The room number is not needed until she writes that she is close, so withhold it as long as you like. Anything unusual belongs in this first line too, a pair rather than one, an overnight, a hotel out at Schiphol, which is by arrangement, with the journey time agreed with you before anything is fixed.
Use the interval well: warm the room, since oil and gel both prefer it, and let the shower run hot if you want to begin unhurried. She arrives like any other visitor, carrying everything the chapter requires; if your building has a rule about visitors, such as meeting them in the lobby, mention it when you book. When plans slip, flights, dinners, second bottles, a one-line amendment on the same thread moves the booking without ceremony, once per booking, provided it is asked for more than a day ahead and lands inside the next fortnight.
Hotel near Leidseplein, tonight at 23:30, one hour, Michelle if she is free. Paying cash.
Apartment in De Pijp, Saturday at nine, two hours of nuru, whoever works with gel. Card at the door.
Hotel in Zuidas, Thursday after ten, a pair for one hour. My first booking, glad to be advised.
Not one of these gives away a surname, a room number or anything you would mind seeing again later. That is precisely the right amount of detail, and it is all a booking needs from you.
In the centre she normally arrives forty to sixty minutes after the hour is agreed, so a line settled at eleven usually ends in a knock before midnight. If traffic or the far side of the city will stretch that window, the reply says so plainly instead of naming a time the streets will not keep. A pair deserves extra runway while two schedules meet, and an overnight is kindest with a few hours of notice. Hotels near Schiphol are by arrangement, with their own timing agreed on the thread.
The house works in writing and does not ring you. Every message stays confined to the practical, so you can clear the whole thread as soon as she has left. She arrives dressed for an evening out, carries one ordinary bag, and leaves the room just as she found it. First-time guests often like to read the guide to preparing for a b2b massage while they wait, since it covers the room, the shower and the half hour before she arrives.
Dinner running long? Say so and the window shifts. Wish for a second hour once she is with you? Ask her before the first one ends; whether it is added is her decision, at the standing rate. A delayed flight pushing everything into the small hours? Move the booking on the same thread, and the one move each booking is allowed carries the deposit with it. And if the evening falls apart altogether, one short line closes the matter; what, if anything, is kept from a deposit depends on the notice you gave, as the booking terms set out.
One rule sits above all of this: every guest, and everyone in the room, must be twenty-one or over.
Most bookings here, a first one included, confirm with half the fee, and a cancellation costs only what your notice leaves earned; a returning client's same-day hour or two is paid at the door. Booking terms.