Checking emails, creating content and building and maintaining an audience — these decidedly non-erotic tasks are parts of many modern jobs. So, too, are they part of the experience for two Lane County residents who make their living as sex workers, sometimes through sex livestreaming, otherwise known as camming.
One Lane County sex worker, who goes by Emrys for safety reasons and anonymity, doesn’t cam anymore, but did extensively in the past, and now makes their money as an adult dancer. Another, who goes by Willow for anonymity purposes, still livestreams, with an emphasis on submissive/dominant (sub-dom) roleplay scenarios.
Both experienced cammers got into the business on their own terms, are proud of what they do and see sex work, their only source of income, as both a service and a creative outlet.
For them, sex work in this context is a way to help their clientele understand their own desire and sexuality. Unlike other forms of sex work, camming is generally legal under certain parameters, namely the model’s age and consent. Still, Emrys and Willow agree that destigmatization and legalization in different areas of sex work would improve safety and build healthier relationships with intimacy.
There are safety issues and drawbacks in camming as there are in any kind of sex work. Emrys, in particular, says that making money in camming takes dedication beyond just the livestreams, including the aforementioned tedious parts of the job.
At the same time, Willow adds, “It’s really deep emotionally and psychologically. I think some people might be surprised by that. You have to work to maintain boundaries.”
Outside of Lane County, camming is a multi-billion-dollar industry that has exploded on social media and several online platforms, most notably OnlyFans. The sessions cost money, and Emrys, now in their late 20s, and Willow, 34, both say their clientele is from all over the world. They are mostly heterosexual men, some women, some queer people and a mix of new faces and regulars.
“I began live-streaming about 10 years ago,” Willow says, “and over time I’ve become more and more fascinated by the psychological aspect of kink. So, I’ve been diving deeper into that. I invite people to come to me and have conversations about their interests, their desires. We try to help them better understand themselves, and also feel more comfortable with their sexuality.”
Willow says many of her clients identify as happily married men, but feel they can’t explore their submissive side with their wives. As for Emrys, “I got a couple of women here and there. I definitely got some queer people,” but, like Willow, most of Emrys’ clients were straight-identifying males.
Even so, “a lot of men are curious about queer experiences,” Willow adds. “Sometimes we just talk about what that might be like. They visualize with me — if we’re on a phone call on a cam. We’ll talk about opening up.”
Both Emrys and Willow say sometimes clients just want to talk. “That was another part that I enjoyed,” Emrys says. “Finding a safe space for exploration sexually,” but also, “for people who just want to chat with me.”
In some sessions, Emrys continues, “I’d start to go into like, ‘Oh, what do you like? What do you want?’ And they would just be like, ‘you know what? I don’t really have to do anything. We can just chat.’ And that really was very fulfilling for me.”
On that note, Willow says, “I’ve had some great conversations about family, about life, about Buddhism, nature — some interesting interactions over the years.”
Generally, there are two competing narratives about online sex work: One is that platforms like OnlyFans allow more creative and financial control for the creator, offering more power to pick and choose their clients and the kind of performances they want to do.
But Emrys says don’t overestimate how much money sex cammers make (some platforms take as much as 50 percent of a creator’s earnings), or the amount of behind-the-scenes work it takes to be successful. She quit because she could make as much money dancing, if not more, with less effort.
The constant focus on her appearance also drove her away. “People are constantly talking about your body, you know, saying really terrible things to you. I used to have a folder full of screenshots of some of the stuff that people would say to me. If anyone else saw that, they’d be appalled.”
The other narrative is the victimization of the models through stalking, harassment and abuse. In 2020, Eugene Weekly reported sex trafficking allegations involving a former University of Oregon student, which began through a Craigslist ad for online modeling.
“Sex trafficking exists and is horrific, of course,” Willow says of the dark side of the industry. “Unfortunately, sex trafficking is also sometimes used as a broad moral justification to restrict or criminalize consensual sex work.”
By associating all sex work with trafficking, Willow says, “policymakers and advocacy groups erase the distinction between coercion and consent. This framing allows laws to be passed for ‘protection’ that ultimately remove sex workers’ autonomy and rights — often making them more vulnerable to violence, exploitation and poverty.”
Of online sex work, Emrys says, “It provides a platform to be super independent, like you have a lot of autonomy.” Models make their own hours, have more control of their finances and art, and can just be by themselves if they need to, she says. “You don’t have to depend on anyone, which is nice. I don’t like depending on people. And so in that regard, it’s good. It can be empowering.” But Emrys adds, “It’s a really rough industry.”