Exploring the Shadows: Brittany Newell’s Dual Life as Dominatrix and Novelist

Certified Bad Girl, Brittany Newell.

Brittany Newell, a Stanford graduate and author of the novel Soft Core, offers a unique perspective by intertwining her experiences as a professional dominatrix with her literary pursuits. After publishing her first novel, Oola, at the age of 21, Newell sought a profession that would provide financial stability while allowing her the freedom to write. She found this balance in the world of professional domination.

In her interview on NPR's Fresh Air, Newell explains the role: "A professional dominatrix is a person who is hired by submissives to enact a series of fetish or kink-related fantasies. It's different than being an escort. It's much more about role play and the creation of these fantasy worlds and satisfying different fetishes. And of course, the defining quality would be the power dynamic."

Newell's second novel, Soft Core, delves into San Francisco's underworld, following Ruth, a stripper who becomes a dominatrix after her ex-boyfriend disappears. The narrative explores themes of loneliness, desire, and the human need for connection. While the story is fictional, Newell acknowledges that her personal experiences inform the sensory details, providing authenticity to the narrative.

Reflecting on her dual roles, Newell notes, "I'm a writer, so I'm always interested in stories, and I kind of randomly found this type of work where people are always telling you, not just their stories, but they want to tell you their secrets." She believes that the qualities essential to both writing and domination are "empathy and curiosity and bravery." Through her work, Newell challenges societal perceptions of sex work and highlights the profound human experiences within these interactions. Her unique lens offers readers an intimate look into the complexities of identity, power, and vulnerability.

“I think Ruth is lonely,” Newell says. “I’m always writing about characters who are defined by their longing and motivated by trying to fill the God-shaped hole inside of them.” Ruth’s work isn’t just about control or performance—it’s about craving connection, navigating insecurity, and finding power in unexpected places. According to Newell, Ruth’s curiosity and ease with the “grubby” or “seedy” sides of life mirror her own. “I actually think I’m very different from Ruth,” she explains, “but we do share that fundamental curiosity and an attraction to underworlds or shadows.”

“It’s made me have so much empathy for men that I certainly never would have had otherwise”

Newell’s own introduction to the dominatrix world was less glamorous and more trial by fire. She describes her early dungeon work as “sink or swim,” where most of the formal training was centered around hygiene. “You learn as you go,” she explains. “It is like improv and you just kind of have to perform your way through the scene.” Each dungeon, she says, is like a themed stage set for different fantasies: a torture room, a faux-medical office, even a student dorm. “They’re not literally underground,” she clarifies. “‘Dungeon’ is a word with a lot of semiotic baggage.” The goal, ultimately, is not cruelty—it’s performance, boundaries, and controlled vulnerability.

One of the most compelling parts of the interview is Newell’s reflection on how being a dominatrix has changed the way she sees men. “It’s made me have so much empathy for men that I certainly never would have had otherwise,” she confesses. Many of her clients are high-powered, emotionally burdened individuals who seek surrender in the dungeon because they can’t find that release anywhere else. “They get to experience the ecstasy of surrender,” she says, adding that these sessions provide a rare glimpse into how toxic masculinity harms not just women and non-binary people, but men themselves. “In the dungeon, I’m getting a front-row seat to how toxic masculinity has harmed them.”

Her work challenges assumptions about power—and leaves readers with a deeper understanding of what people truly crave: not just pleasure or control, but the simple, aching need to be seen.

And yes, the question of safe words did come up—and Newell has heard them all. “I’ve heard ‘rutabaga’ as a safe word, like, several different times,” she laughs. “People think, ‘I’ve got such an original safe word,’ and I’m like, ‘Is it rutabaga?’” While novelty is fun, she prefers the classic color system: “yellow” to slow things down, and “red” to stop completely.

In Soft Core, and in her own life, Newell blurs the lines between fantasy and feeling, dominance and vulnerability. Her work, both literary and literal, challenges assumptions about power—and leaves readers with a deeper understanding of what people truly crave: not just pleasure or control, but the simple, aching need to be seen.

For a deeper insight into Brittany Newell's experiences and her novel Soft Core, you can listen to her full interview on NPR's Fresh Air.