Danica

Ask who works strongest and the answer is Danica: pressure with architecture behind it, never one gram past what you wanted. Twenty-six, of De Pijp.

There are guests whose knots laugh at gentle hands, and Danica is the name they tend to book. Her strength is trained, not accidental: weight from the hips, forearms doing the labour, the kind of firmness that dismantles a conference back in twenty minutes and then, having earned the right, turns unexpectedly tender for the rest of the hour. She is dark-haired, twenty-six, and suits De Pijp's unpretentious streets, no ceremony, no fuss, results. Serbian is her own; her English is direct and warms as the evening does. The erotic oil hour with Danica is a two-act piece, force then softness, and the second act hits harder for the first.

Danica decides which bookings she takes and may decline any of them; she sets the limits for what a session includes, says what they are, and may end a visit at any point, as the terms set out.