The Surprising, Post-Pandemic Revival Of Phone Sex

Behind the door of a cozy mid-century home in Edmonton, I’m welcomed into the living room of 30-year-old Emma. She’s gregarious, with chestnut hair and dry wit. She offers me sparkling water and settles into the tangerine-coloured carpet. I feel I’ve time-travelled when I enter this inviting space, which is apt, given what we’re meeting about. 

On an average day, Emma keeps her laptop open on her dining room table as she putters around the house before and after she gets home from her day job. She keeps her headphones on, and her ringer on blast. Emma will wipe her sudsy fingers between doing the dishes, or pause her latest binge of reality TV to pick up the phone. It’s common for her to let the phone ring four or five times before she picks up, which works fine, as Emma lives alone. It gives her time to see who is calling and go to her perpetually open laptop to review her client notes and messages. She is measured as she scans the document, reviewing highlighted words like “shame” and “doctor.” She clicks back to the last message she had with the current caller: It’s funny you didn’t last long… that’s embarrassing! Then, Emma clears her throat, checking her cadence and voice. She wants to make sure she gets her character right. This is Doctor Candy’s office. Back for more humiliation therapy? 

Emma is a phone sex operator (PSO). She works in the public service as an ecologist by day, but she struggled to get by after the pandemic, when mortgage rates and the cost of living spiked. Now, nearly two years into the profession, Emma has about 10 regulars she speaks to on a weekly basis, talking to each two or three times a week. She also has dozens of one-off clients and takes calls on mornings, evenings and weekends. (To protect her privacy, we’ve given Emma a pseudonym.)

“Honestly, it’s thrilling to be in charge of how much money I can make,” Emma says. “On Saturday, I worked a ton and made a ton of money. I’m having a blast, which I’d never have expected.” 

Before today, if I were to imagine a phone sex operator, I’d have envisioned pleather-clad women on late-night 1990s TV between infomercials—when beepers were in vogue, and Matchbox Twenty was bleating Push on pop radio. My only knowledge of phone-sex lines before this was when my parents, who owned a small business in the ’90s, fired an employee for racking up a $900 bill when they used the company phone to call 1-800-BOOBS on lunch breaks. 

I figured since then, phone sex, along with JNCO jeans and jelly sandals, had fallen into obscurity. In an era of OnlyFans, instant-connection camming, the proliferation of AI girlfriends and PornHub, why would phone sex be even remotely popular?

But Emma, who’s wearing Levis and a T-shirt, laughs. “I guess a lot of people think that, but they’re looking at it the wrong way,” she tells me. “It’s not just alive and well—phone sex is thriving, and it’s here to stay.” 

***

One of the first phone sex lines began in the early 1980s, when Gloria Leonard, a lauded feminist and porn star, recorded a steamy answering machine message; people could call in and hear her preview an excerpt of the latest issue of the men’s magazine High Society. There was such interest the magazine developed the Living Centerfold Telephone Service, where up to 700,000 daily callers listened to pre-recorded messages made by centrefold models for a fee. From then on, phone sex lines proliferated.

Given their popularity, phone sex lines are cited for playing a major role in streamlining phone operations as we know them now. Technology like touch-tone menus, voice recognition and collect-call systems were developed by major phone sex companies like American TelNet (ATN), an American enterprise that not only specialized in phone sex lines, but hotlines like dial-a-psychic. 

While traditional dial-in phone sex lines are no longer as common—ATN shut down in 2003— there are still a large number of websites that function just like traditional dial-ins. Callers have the option of either dialing the web platform’s 1-800 number, or by visiting the platform’s website and choosing the PSO they want to chat with based on their online profile. When callers choose an operator, the platform connects them anonymously. 

Emma says that, for the most part, her clients find her on the web, but some of her regulars who have been calling phone sex lines since the ’80s likely found her through the 1-800 number. When I ask Emma why she thinks phone sex is preferred over something more visual like OnlyFans, she says, “A lot of my customers know what they like. It’s familiar to them, the same way I’d rather go to my favourite pub downtown than try a new place.” 

Currently, popular phone-sex companies like NiteFlirt and TalkToMe average anywhere from $5 million to $25 million USD in yearly revenue. Finding a specific number is tricky—the adult entertainment industry is discreet when it comes to financial details. Emma primarily works with one of these companies over the other (she has asked Chatelaine not to specify which), and the company she works with takes 65 percent of her per-minute rate (her standard rates are typically $2.99 a minute). In an average month, Emma makes about $1,500, with her hours fluctuating weekly based on her availability. 

When I ask if she thinks keeping just 35 percent is fair, she shrugs: “It's costly to start on your own. I don’t have to build a website, or do my own independent promotion—clients are already visiting their site. Plus, these companies help me stay anonymous without worrying about my security, like clients figuring out my IP or phone number. It’s a racket, but I’d rather keep it this way.” 

Besides, she says, it’s busy. The site she uses includes a “featured” and ratings-based filter system, where top performers are often boosted, along with profiles of new operators, which incentivizes clients to keep returning to the site. Emma says building her client list from scratch took a long time—about four months before she had her 10 regular callers—but with her regulars, and a high number of five-star reviews, she can expect a reliable supplementary income in addition to her full-time job. 

Emma says that phone sex also had a bit of a renaissance during the pandemic. Between March and August 2020—a time when many people felt isolated and lonely as a result of pandemic lockdowns—NiteFlirt reported a 10 percent uptick in users. Emma suspects that business is beginning to slow down now that the world has reopened, but she personally hasn’t noticed it. Her regular callers bring in a solid amount of her supplementary income, and their calls have not dwindled: she still expects anywhere from 20 to 40 calls a week. Her largest client base is men over 40, with her eldest client well into his 90s. 

“I think phone sex can make people feel less lonely,” Emma says, “At least a fifth of clients call who purely want human connection, but these calls are also an outlet. It’s validating to hear you're not alone—that what you thought was your ‘weird’ fetish maybe wasn't that weird after all.”

Emma says there’s something particularly intimate when it comes to phone sex. In the absence of face-to-face communication or video chats, Emma’s clients indulge their fantasies without fear of judgment—sometimes it is reminiscent of long calls in early relationships. But then Emma changes her tone. “Most of the time, it's about getting to the bottom of their kink. They don’t always know,” she says. Emma takes pride in learning what callers are into: “I’m there to guide them.” 

***

Emma began working as a PSO, when, like most millennials, she found herself googling “how to earn money from home.” It was through this process she found out about the feasibility of phone sex work: the ability to make money on her own schedule, and the flexibility of not having to book time off for social events, instead simply keeping the phone line open when she was at home. Emma, who had never done any type of sex work before, was nervous to try it, but she said after she found some resources on YouTube, including a video in which she actually heard the YouTuber make a call, she thought, Wow, I could really do this. 

And she did: Through my research, I learn that Emma is actually in the top 10 percent of earners from the particular site she uses as a PSO. When I tell her this, she is surprised. When I ask her why she thinks that is, she cites being “chronically online” and watching a variety of porn. She says she has a firm handle on a wide number of kinks and is herself involved in a variety of online kink communities locally and nationally. In addition to this, Emma highlights two things she thinks have made her successful in this role: good marketing and providing a service professionally and consistently. 

When I ask what she means by good marketing, Emma talks of developing niche profiles on the site and a very direct biography that outlines her services. According to Emma, operators can have up to 10 different profiles on the site, but only three can be live at a time. The three different personas Emma offers her clients that she’s found not only the most lucrative but also the most fun for her are: a mommy Fem-Dom (a woman who takes on a dominant persona during sex), a sexual therapist and a girlfriend-experience line. In her feminine-dominant persona, she talks to callers seeking safety and indulgence. As a faux sex therapist, she’s often roleplaying the interests that callers would otherwise feel shame about. Emma doesn’t find that she needs to market herself outside of the site, and that she has enough five-star reviews that new clients tend to find her profiles easily; because of this, positive reviews play a major role in making money on the site.

Emma says she thinks she has high reviews because, when on a call, she “takes their requests seriously,” referring to her professionalism and consistency. Emma is not only professional, but sensitive to her clients, too. She tells me that before I arrived, she had just got off the phone with a regular who wanted to be shamed and kicked in the testicles. Emma’s voice softens when she says that these very specific requests require a lot of tact and compassion while trying to discern what her clients want from the call: “It’s so much more than the act—it’s wanting to be coddled, cared for,” she says. “Sometimes they’re recreating a bad experience and I am there to help comfort them.” 

There’s no shortage of kinks explored with phone sex. Website data from Niteflirt in 2023 suggests “hypnosis,” “therapists,” and “cuckold” were some of the most-searched terms. According to a 2019 survey by sex-toy brand EdenFantasys, 36 percent of participants had a specific kink. 

“The therapy’s probably my favourite,” Emma says, “Or my ‘ignore line,’ but I’ve turned that off lately because I haven’t been getting as many calls.” 

An ignore line?

“Yeah, clients call, and I keep them on the line for hours just by ignoring them.”

You ignore them?

“Yeah,” she says, speaking a bit slower. “They want me to dominate them, and they get off on being ignored. The only difference between me and a therapist is I'm a bit cheaper.” Emma grins. “Well, and sexier. And uncertified.”

A lifelong introvert, Emma says starting this job has been one of the most empowering decisions she’s ever made—and that by taking these calls, she’s become more in tune with her own sexuality. “I’ve always been a little more freaky,” she laughs. “My partners in the vanilla world often made me feel shame for it. It was hard on me. I still feel there can be this uneven pressure on women versus men when it comes to sex. Why should my desire matter any less?”

When Emma was up for a promotion in her day job, she found the skills she developed as a PSO regarding conflict resolution and executive communication helped her ace the interview. And since she started her work as a phone sex operator, Emma feels more confident. “There was this cute guy at Costco the other day,” she recalls. “I just gave him my number! I feel I’ve got this secret now, like I'm in charge, you know? And my friends were shocked, it was really out of character for me.”

Emma’s friends know about her work as a PSO, and are supportive. “But I’d never tell my family, no,” she says, referencing a conservative upbringing. 

But it's not an easy job. “Some days, it's the best thing in the world,” she says. “Others, it's demanding of everything—my energy, my feelings. Like, it hurts my feelings when I don't get calls. It’s so silly. It makes me feel I’m not doing something right.” 

But, she says, then there are mornings like this one, where in addition to the call she’s already mentioned, she says, “I had an hour-long silent call, which is where I tell a sexy story and the person on the other line is totally silent.”

***

I’m curious about conflict. What about boundaries? How does Emma set them? Does she feel safe? 

“Yes, I feel safe. I’m in control,” she says. “You can block and report callers who violate your boundaries.” 

Emma guides me to her profiles, where under “Call Reasons,” phrases like Someone to talk to, Girlfriend Experience, and Role Play Advice appear. Emma says she outlines what she is willing to talk about, and if anyone crosses her boundaries, she blocks them. “Some [callers] will try and muck around to talk about something I'm not willing to; it's as easy as hanging up and blocking them forever. Like I said, it’s not easy work and there are corners of the internet that can be pretty dark. I take the calls I’m comfortable with—and honestly, for the most part, callers have been very respectful of that.” she says. “It’s not the people I’m talking to on the phone that I'm worried about.”

Recently, a colleague at Emma’s day job learned she was doing phone sex work on the side. He told everyone but her direct supervisors, and it made coming into her male-dominated workspace a misery. 

Emma felt she had few options, and feared if she reported the coworker, she might lose her job. So she held higher ground. Her coworkers were cruel, judgemental and sexist. She said the thing the men she works with were actually most angry about was the amount of extra money she makes.

It sadly seems that Emma’s experience might not be unique. In a small-sample study conducted by the University of Leicester of webcam and PSOs, half of the female respondents were concerned about their anonymity being violated, and 45 percent indicated information they put online was used without their consent. 

When I tell Emma I'm horrified by her experience at work, she’s understanding but glib. “See, [my coworkers] are the kind of people who would benefit from calling my therapy line.”

***

Still on her laptop, Emma shows me the hundreds of reviews on the bubble-gum-pink site where she hosts her services. 

I'm struck by the users who regularly visit Emma in the hushed corner between reality and imagination. It seems more expansive than a liminal space, almost a confessional. There’s Emma’s regular who wants to be made to feel really small, like smaller than a quarter. There’s no way of knowing who she’s talking to, but she says this person whispers they’re a psychologist. 

Other clients ask for a silent call—their wife is in the next room, or they drop off because their partner is back early from an event. Others pretend to have a partner, Emma says, because it’s part of the fantasy. 

While the reviews don’t read like love notes, there is a level of affection between client and host. The client usually begins with a compliment, something sincere (She picks up what you need from her and only makes it better, or so hypnotic and dreamy, I get lost in talking to her), then finishes with something more blunt (PERFECT NASTY SEX). 

Some clients describe Emma as their new favourite person, their number one. Some feel they can't utter their desires to the people they're with. Some think they can't find people to be with because of their desires. Some simply aren’t looking and prefer the straightforwardness of their interactions. 

“It’s a spectrum of interest, but it’s all communication. Lots of people aren’t talking to each other.” 

The line between desire and loneliness is present here. And so deeply human.

For Emma, she’s seeing connection differently, for better and for worse. 

Her new job empowers her, and while it hasn’t given her complete financial freedom, she can make her mortgage payment every month. She feels more powerful and communicates better. She buys brand-name soda water now and, over her bubbly drink, tells me of all manner of fetishes, from macrophilia (a fascination or sexual fantasies of giants) to axillism (armpit sex). How she finds most clients just want to feel as if they are being heard. 

I understand that. When Emma talks, I’m listening.