Half of the ladder price confirms a booking with this house, the first booking from a new client among them, and a cancellation forfeits it. One session alone is settled entirely at the door: a returning client's same-day hour or two.
A booking with this house has two moments at which money changes hands: the moment the office says yes, and the moment she arrives. For most of what the office confirms, both moments carry something. When the office accepts a booking on the WhatsApp thread, in roughly ten minutes, its confirmation names half of the ladder price as the deposit, and that half is settled electronically before she leaves home; the other half is settled with her, in the room, in cash, whatever major currency is in your pocket, at the day's rate, or on a card, or in crypto. She reaches a central address forty to sixty minutes after setting out, carrying the figure on the price page less what has already cleared.
One booking, and one only, skips the first of those moments. A client the house has looked after before, asking today for a single therapist for an hour or for two, is confirmed on their word and pays the whole figure at the door. That is the exception, and it is written here as one, because the half in advance is the ordinary shape of a booking. A name the office has never seen sends half on its first booking, however short the session and however soon it is wanted; a client the house knows well who asks for three hours tonight, or for a date further off, is asked for the half like anyone else. After a first visit that went as arranged, that client's next same-day hour or two is settled wholly in the room.
It helps to read the law from the widest layer inward. At the widest is the EU Consumer Rights Directive; beneath it sits the Dutch statute by which the Directive became national law, the Wet Koop op Afstand; and at the level of a single booking there is one article of the Dutch Civil Code. Under that statute, a consumer who contracts for a service remotely ordinarily has fourteen days to withdraw from it, and a request typed on a phone in a hotel room or an apartment is a contract made remotely.
The innermost layer is Article 6:230p of the Civil Code, and it is the one that decides the matter. The article enumerates what the withdrawal right leaves out, and among the items listed is a service whose performance is fixed to a given date, or to a given period. A nuru session is bought as an hour: an hour with a date attached to it, or a night with one. Because the booking is a dated service in exactly the sense the article describes, it falls within the date-specific-service exemption, and the fourteen-day right is absent from it from the start. It is not set aside by confirming, and there is nothing to relinquish; for a service of this kind the right was never there. A cancellation is answered by this page, and behind it by the house terms.
Each booking on the following list draws on the house days or hours before she leaves home, and for each of them the office collects half of the ladder price at the moment of acceptance. The list is the whole of it:
The half is fixed at fifty percent of the ladder figure, neither a range nor a matter for negotiation, and since inside the ring no supplement is charged for the hour, the weekend or the distance, the arithmetic is short. A first booking of one hour stands at EUR 180, so EUR 90 clears at acceptance and EUR 90 is handed to her at the door. The overnight, EUR 1,250, splits into EUR 625 at acceptance and EUR 625 on arrival. Two therapists for three hours are EUR 1,080; EUR 540 is placed and EUR 540 waits for the evening itself. Two hours booked for tomorrow rather than today are EUR 360, of which EUR 180 goes ahead and EUR 180 is kept for the room. The confirmation names the precise sum before any of it is collected.
A deposit reaches the office by card, via Revolut or Wise, or as cryptocurrency, the methods that clear in advance. It does not arrive by bank transfer or through PayPal, and it is never cash, since a deposit must be with the office before she leaves home and cash exists only once she is with you. The details for sending it appear inside the confirmed WhatsApp thread once the office has accepted the booking, never earlier and never from another number; a request for payment by any other route did not come from this house. The order the messages take is set out on the booking page.
Follow what happens between the office accepting an overnight and the message that cancels it. The office has already confirmed her, taken the address and settled the hour with her. Her night has been closed to everyone else; the other requests that came in for that night have been declined on her behalf. Her transport there and back has been arranged, for an airport visit days earlier. Each step was taken because the booking was accepted, and each was real work.
When the client cancels, none of that work returns. The clients who were declined have booked elsewhere. The closed night cannot be sold again at a day's range. The deposit is what that work cost, measured honestly, and that is the entire reason it is not refunded. It is not a penalty for a change of heart, and it does not scale with the notice given: a week's warning and an hour's warning both arrive after the cost was incurred, so neither earns a percentage back, and there is no interval of grace. The rule is that a deposit is not refunded on a client cancellation, and the rule is held exactly as written.
Only two situations are read another way. Where an order of government halts the house's operations, or where a serious illness makes the session impossible to deliver, the office may treat the booking as a case of force majeure. Each request is weighed on its own, and where one is accepted the sum already placed becomes credit toward a later booking, never a cash refund. A diary that shifted, a meeting that overran, a mild indisposition, a flight the airline moved, a hotel that moved you, or a plan that lost its appeal: none of these is force majeure; each is a cancellation in the plain sense, and the deposit is retained.
The office does sometimes accept a booking without any deposit: the returning client's same-day hour or two, or a request for today accepted while she was already crossing the city. What trust buys is a later invoice, nothing more. Should such a booking be cancelled, the identical costs stand, her journey, her closed hours, the requests turned away, and the office then requests collateral, the figure being half of what the ladder shows for that session. One policy, then, met on the far side of the cancellation rather than the near side.
A session the client brings to an end before its time is paid at the length that was booked, entire, and none of the price comes back. That block of time was hers to give and yours to hold; she crossed the city to keep it, and the unused minutes have no other buyer that day. Separately, and stated here once without qualification: she may end a session immediately, and without refund, where safety or consent has been compromised.
A booking placed under a name that is not the client's own, or reached through a phone that is not theirs, or made in jest, or made by someone who did not plan to be behind the door at all, is not a cancellation and is not filed as one. It is entered instead as a false booking. The identifiers used are kept, are shared with the reputable houses elsewhere in the city so that the same name meets a warned reader next time, and, when the circumstances call for it, the matter is put to the relevant authorities.
A client using their own name who answers the door at the time arranged will never meet any of this. Forty-five women travel alone for this house, at every hour, to addresses they have only read on a screen; the record is kept on their behalf and on nobody else's.
For the ordinary questions about a visit, the FAQ; for anything about your own booking, the booking line, which is read around the clock.