Goddess Worshipper's Diary: Venice Beach

It was a scorching hot Sunday afternoon in LA. I’d decided to get a little high and let the vibe of the day carry me to Venice Beach for a walk along the boardwalk. I was feeling great - light, euphoric, everything buzzing with that hazy golden glow.

Then, up ahead, I noticed a large crowd had formed. 

The low thump of bass began to roll into my awareness, slowly growing louder as I approached. Soon I could make out the booming beats of hip hop, pulsing with heat and rhythm. Curious, I wandered closer, the music drawing me in.

Lucky me! Turns out, one of LA’s top pole dancing studios was doing a live beachside demo, likely looking to drum up attention - and clients. And they had plenty. It was impossible not to stop and stare. I joined the crowd of gawking onlookers.

There must have been more than a dozen dancers, each more stunningly sexy than the last. The majority were white girls, with one or two of more exotic mixed looks. Their bodies moved to the music  with sexuality and grace, winding around freestanding chrome poles that had been anchored into the sand. 

They all wore impossibly barely-there swimsuits - thong backs and neon straps, tiny pieces of metallic fabrics that barely covered anything, shimmering textures that caught the sunlight like fire and showed off their bodies to perfection. 

Their high heels flashed as they posed and spun, expressions both alluring and confident. Every movement seemed designed to captivate. 

Some had long, flowing hair that whipped dramatically with each turn; others had buzzcuts and braids, striking in their own bold way. The confidence they exuded was magnetic - every step, every swing on the pole, said "look at me", and you couldn't look away.

Behind a set of DJ decks, a tall, dark-skinned Black King with long, swaying dreadlocks commanded the music like a powerful conductor. He wore dark shades and an open vest exposing a powerfully muscled physique, and from the moment I noticed him, I felt the full weight of the bass hit my solar plexus. 

The beats were relentless - deep bass-lines that made my ribcage vibrate. Around him, an entourage of more Black Kings, decked in streetwear and tank tops, chains gleaming - moving to the rhythm. So this was the team in charge of this unexpected display!  

Some Kings were posted up silently watching, others talking confidently with the female dancers between sets. They obviously all knew each other - they were smiling, flirting, hyping each other up, filming clips. The energy was electric - raw, intense, sexual.

That’s when I saw her.

She stepped up to the pole - tall, commanding, with long blonde hair that caught the sunlight. She wore a high-cut, thong back, metallic swimsuit that left little to the imagination, clinging to her in all the right ways. 

The thong back revealed one of the most finely shaped asses I’ve seen in a very long time - full, rounded and perfectly smooth. Her legs - endless, toned and shapely - were perched on impossibly high stiletto heels, the kind that made every step look like a statement. If this girl appeared on BLACKED, she'd break the internet!

As the beats dropped, she began to move - slow, deliberate, magnetic. Her body curved and twisted around the pole with a grace that was half gymnast, half goddess. Every spin, every arch of her back, every flick of her blonde hair was pure seduction without a single word spoken. I couldn’t look away.

People around me were filming, cheering, clapping. But I stood there in silence, stunned. Not just by her beauty - though that alone was enough to knock the wind out of me - but by the confidence, the power, the artistry of it all. She wasn’t just dancing. She was performing a kind of magic, and we were all under her spell.

When her set ended, she dismounted the pole with a final, effortless flourish, and joined the group of girls and Black Kings gathered round the DJ. There were congratulations and high fives. Yes, they all knew each other. This was its own social group. The crowd erupted. I found myself clapping too, still dazed.

This was more than just a performance. This was a collision of modern interracial - Black Kings, white goddesses, beautiful bodies, rhythm, flirtation, and confidence. A living, breathing display of interracial attraction and energy that had the whole crowd buzzing. I stood there, swaying gently, a little high and a lot awestruck, soaking it all in. 

The Black Boyfriend Effect: Interracial Love Is Liberating White Women Everywhere

By a white guy, writing with love...

So, we all know that a new cultural phenomenon is sweeping across cities, suburbs, and social media feeds alike. Dubbed "The Black Boyfriend Effect," this trend isn't just about interracial romance - it's about transformation.

Increasingly, white women are choosing Black men to date - and as they do so in increasing numbers, they are undergoing noticeable - and equally wonderful - shifts in confidence, self-expression, and personal style, in ways that are turning heads and fueling the movement.

And the transformation? It’s not subtle.

From changing the way they walk into a room, to the boldness of their wardrobe choices, these white women are radiating something unmistakable: liberation.

A Confidence Revolution
 
At its core, The Black Boyfriend Effect is about what happens when boundaries break down - culturally, emotionally, and personally.

Psychologists and cultural commentators suggest that when white women enter interracial relationships with Black men, they’re often exposed to a level of cultural richness, resilience, and authenticity that gives them permission to unlearn many of the unspoken restrictions they may have grown up with in suburban white culture.

“White femininity in many Western contexts is often associated with being ‘contained,’ polite, and non-disruptive,” explains Dr. Maya Ellis, a sociologist specializing in race and relationships. “But Black culture tends to encourage boldness, self-celebration, and expressive identity. When white women step into this world, it can feel like permission to finally let go and be themselves.”

It’s more than adopting new cultural aesthetics - it’s about embracing a different value system. One that affirms you, loudly.

The Style Shift: From Vanilla to Vibrant
 
Perhaps the most visible sign of The Black Boyfriend Effect is how white women's wardrobes undergo a steady metamorphosis.

What was once a sea of beige, soft neutrals, and predictable high-street staples transforms into vibrant prints, bold colors, and adventurous cuts. 

Shorter skirts, higher heels, crop tops, statement hoops, head wraps, colorful longer nails, waist chains, anklets and ethnic-inspired accessories are all becoming part of the new normal. 

Thrifted vintage? Absolutely. Ankara skirts? Why not. Chunky gold jewelry with tribal influences? It’s a yes.

“It’s like they finally start dressing for themselves, not for the approval of a PTA board or a suburban coffee morning,” says personal stylist Kendra Moore, who works with clients exploring style as a form of self-healing. “They’re showing skin, taking risks, mixing cultures - it’s fearless. And you can tell they feel good doing it.”

Fashion is, after all, a form of language. And these women are now speaking in boldface.

Cultural Osmosis or Something Deeper?

Some critics are quick to cry “appropriation,” but others argue this is more about immersion than imitation. These women aren’t just borrowing looks - they’re living and loving in communities where these styles and expressions are part of the everyday experience. The cultural exchange becomes more nuanced, more personal.

“Being with a Black man often means being invited into spaces and experiences that are radically different from white mainstream culture,” says writer and cultural critic Jamal Rivers. “And many white women come away from that experience feeling seen, not judged. That kind of affirmation is powerful - it changes how you carry yourself.”

In fact, many white women say that being in an interracial relationship for the first time helped them dismantle internalized perfectionism, body image issues, and even long-standing emotional repression.

Across Generations, A Shared Freedom

What’s fascinating is that The Black Boyfriend Effect isn’t limited to Gen Z or young millennials. Women in their 40s, 50s, and beyond are embracing the same shifts. 

Dating apps, online forums and TikTok feeds are filled with white women of all ages testifying to how their lives - and wardrobes - have changed since falling in love with Black Kings. 

Not to mention the relatively short time frame within which interracial has completely dominated the porn world...

Maryanne, 49, from Atlanta, shared on a viral post: “I am tall and I  used to hide my curves. Now I wear what I want. I wear heels. I wear shorts. I dance more. I laugh louder. I feel more alive at 49 than I ever did at 29. Being loved by a Black man showed me parts of myself I’d kept hidden for decades.”

So… What Is Really Happening Here?

Ultimately, The Black Boyfriend Effect isn’t just about fashion or who you're dating. It’s a reflection of how cultural connection can act as a catalyst for freedom and self-discovery.

These white women aren’t becoming someone else - they’re becoming more themselves. They’re shedding outdated scripts and embracing a fuller spectrum of emotion, expression, and identity. They’re breaking free.

And maybe, that’s the quiet revolution of love across cultures: not just the merging of two people, but the unearthing of something freer, bolder, and far more beautiful within each of them.

Love did that. Confidence did that. Culture did that.

And maybe that’s what we all really want: the freedom to be seen, loved, and fully expressed—in color.

Sidebar: What’s in the Wardrobe? Key Trends of the Black Boyfriend Effect

• Bold Prints: African-inspired fabrics, loud florals, and vibrant streetwear mash-ups.
• Statement Jewelry: Oversized hoops, beaded necklaces, gold chains, tribal motifs.
• Curves on Display: Figure-hugging dresses, crop tops, daisy dukes, high-waisted jeans, and braless fashion.
• Natural Hair Appreciation: From embracing their partner’s natural styles to experimenting with head wraps and hair jewelry
• Confidence First: Clothes that say “I like how I look” - not “do I look okay?”

WIFEY: Rebecca

I want to give props a gorgeous girl who has just joined the VIXEN stable - Rebecca. 

Rebecca is a successful DJ from North Carolina, who has just debuted on WIFEY, the cuckold-focussed sister site to BLACKED under the Vixen media group. 

For me, it goes way beyond that insanely cute face. There's something about Rebecca that is deeply triggering in a "small-town, sexy girl-next-door" kinda way...

...and I love the fact that through her love of music, she has found success as a DJ...

But most importantly, it is truly amazing to see a gorgeous girl like this find a place in the lifestyle by joining the VIXEN stable...

Rebecca is one of the debut girls on WIFEY, who put their girls first by giving them a beautiful makeover and then allowing them to experience, with the support and presence of their cuck partners, the best sex of their lives...

Rebecca is paired up with Hollywood Cash, Jada Stevens's King, who really knows how to give her an experience that she (and her partner) will never forget, with his insane 11 inch pleasure giver...

It is my sincere hope that girls like Rebecca, who are throwing aside the outdated stigmas of the past, encourage other girls to join the lifestyle, and even more hopefully, take the plunge into interracial adult art for the growing legions of fans who adore them...

Goddess Worshipper's Diary: The Blonde At The After Party

Last night, I watched a blonde model get ritually spanked in public. 

I thought I'd start this story with the shock payoff - and then explain to you how it all actually happened! 

I had managed to get myself an invite to an elite adult industry party, one of the developing benefits of all the work that I put into this blog, the lifestyle and the networking.

The venue was a nightclub, with luxurious decor and a sexy crowd of industry insiders and amateurs. 

As I moved through the crowd, I noticed him almost immediately - a dark-skinned Black King who exuded power. Wearing a black suit and a gold chain, he stood with the sort of confidence you only see in alpha males who have conquered the world. 

But what really caught my eye was the exceptional young woman beside him. She was tall, with the most striking short cut blonde hair, which really caught my attention. The closest I can find as a visual comp is this image of Charlize: 

Her face was gorgeous, with beautiful blue eyes. She was wearing a sleek backless black minidress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her legs were long, tan, smooth and shapely in black stiletto heels. 

They made a beautiful interracial power couple. I watched them for a moment as they conversed with two older gentlemen, a duo of the most important adult producers in the room. 

The King had his hand on the tall blonde's bare back, resting there protectively, as if nothing or no one could touch her. The contrast of his dark skin against her smooth, tan back was mesmerising to me. 

I couldn’t help but slip into my natural fly-on-the-wall voyeur mode as I took in her gorgeous long legs and observed the way they stood together with such ease and intimacy.

As the night wore on, I found myself growing more and more relaxed by the vibe of the party. The gorgeous models, the conversations, the clinking of glasses—it was an adult industry scene that, frankly, I am barely a part of, but it felt like I belonged there somehow. Or maybe it was just my desire to.

When the event began winding down, I achieved something I was never expecting for the night: I talked my way into a private after party. It was being held in a penthouse room in a nearby hotel, and somehow, my persuasive charms had paid off!

I made it to the hotel with a small group of hopefuls, and we were invited up to the top floor. 

The after party was a whole different vibe. It was intimate - about twenty people in a spacious hotel room. The vibe was laid-back, but there was an undeniable air of expectancy, as a handful of gorgeous models interacted with a bunch of well-known adult producers. 

I felt a little like an outsider, to be honest. I didn’t know anyone, and everyone seemed to have their own group, their own conversations. It was easy to feel like I didn’t quite fit in. 

But I tried not to let it bother me. Instead, I took it all in - the models, the music, the easy mingling of sexy people who had likely known each other or worked together previously. There was a sense of familiarity among the group, and I could only hope to blend in, even if just for a little while.

So there I am: I’m standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city lights flicker below. The r n' b music hums in the background, a mix of ambient beats and low conversation filling the space in the haze of post-party euphoria.

I’m talking to the girlfriend of one of the producers, trying to keep the conversation afloat as I sip my drink. She’s animated, discussing some latest project, but my eyes keep drifting to the corner of the room. Where I spot her. The blonde model with the short hair. 

She’s sitting across from a Black King, but a different guy from earlier, listening intently to whatever he's saying, her bright blue eyes sparkling in the low light, her long, smooth, perfect legs crossed tantalisingly. She looks perfect, the kind of model beauty that would not be out of place at Fashion Week.

I don't recognize the King - he’s younger, tall, with an easy charisma. He's clearly someone who belongs here, just like her.

And I—well, I’m just here, trying to get through this conversation. I feel a little out of place, but I know better than to make it obvious.

The night stretches on, and the buzz in the room intensifies. The blonde model, for a moment, breaks away from her conversation, and I think, maybe now—this is it. She’s free. She’s no longer caught up in whatever charm this young King has been laying on her. But before I can even make a move, the previous King / boyfriend enters the picture.

I’m trying to keep my attention on the girlfriend of the producer in my ear, but I can’t help but keep glancing over. The blonde model is now standing, smiling as her boyfriend pulls her to his arm and leads her to the couch where he is sitting with a small group of white men. A few words are exchanged.

When I look back, I catch something that knocks the wind out of me. The couple are sitting flanked by the same two older white gentlemen they were speaking to earlier at the event. And she’s kneeling in front of them. Yes. Kneeling. 

I just want to be free to be able to observe this scene, but the girl I'm talking to is still in full flow and I'm too polite to turn my back. Time passes, and all I can think about is turning round to take in the sight of the beautiful blonde model kneeling at the feet of the Black King and his allies. 

Then I hear it.

A loud - and unmistakable - SLAP rings out across the room. So loud, in fact, that there is an immediate hush to the conversation. We all turn to look at the source of the sound. It's come from the couch area.

It's a sight that I will never forget. 

The tall blonde is draped over the knee of the Black King. Her dress has completely disappeared. She is wearing only a black silk thong, and the black stiletto heels. Next to them, the two older gentlemen are watching so intently that nothing could distract. 

The Black King raises his hand into the air...and let's it fall...spanking the perfectly shaped rear of the blonde, hard. Her whole body shudders. Her face is buried into the sofa. Her body convulses, her breasts squashed into the couch under her. 

The King raises his hand again. He is measured. In no hurry. His hand falls and strikes the blonde's exposed rear once again. SPANK. Her long body twists in response.

I am staring, open-mouthed. I can see that the blonde's entire ass is glowing rose-red under the impact of her King's large open palms. 

The two older men sat with them on the couch are taking in every inch of the blonde laid out before them, staring with barely-concealed lust. There is some exchange between them and the King - I can't decipher what - and the three men laugh. The King raises his hand again and spanks the blonde's beautiful ass. SPANK.

There is something about this whole scene that is so deeply intimate and mind-blowing. My mind races as I try to make sense of it. I watch as the spanking continues - SPANK...SPANK...until the blonde is almost motionless across her King's lap, her face buried in the couch in surrender and her ass and the backs of her legs glowing pink red. 

I have no idea how much time passes. The spanking has stopped. The King is stroking the long smooth back of the blonde across his knee. Then his hand continues down, slowly, caressing the curve of her ass, slowly finding it's way between the glowing cheeks, and down, down, where it settles in the spot between her legs, finding its home and slowly massaging. 

It is a matter of just moments before the blonde lets out a deep, shuddering and prolonged orgasm. There is something intensely vulnerable as her long body releases and she buries her head deep into the couch in surrender. The two older guys have not taken their eyes off her, even as she lays exhausted and motionless they are taking in every inch of her. 

Not one word of the above account have I exaggerated. This is exactly how the scene played out and it is a scene that will stay with me forever. 

Some minutes later, the blonde is sat next to her King on the couch. She is putting on a pair of grey combat pants and a black crop top, her short blonde hair dishevelled and a light sheen of sweat across her smooth tan skin. 

There is a little vulnerability there - but her King puts a reassuring arm around her and she curls up next to him. He continues his conversation with the other men sat on the couch. They are laughing. 

It's past 2am and I feel like it is time for me to leave. The energy of the room has changed and I don't know these people well enough to settle in for the next phase. Quietly, I leave the room and head downstairs to find an Uber home. 

My head is still spinning, enamored with the beautiful blonde model who has just been spanked in front of the party thart is continuing upstairs. I don't even know her name. 

Hero worshipping: Dezz

This Black King hails from Los Angeles. He's a personal trainer...

He's dating the very gorgeous and statuesque Hallie, also a personal trainer and emerging R n' B singer, song-writer, producer...

I think you'll agree with me they make quite the "power couple" - another example of the undeniable superiority of Black King / white queen couples that are redefining the culture...

Scenario: Jen

Jen sat outside on the stone bench, the warm sun casting a golden hue over everything around her. 

She had been looking forward to this date all week. Steve had seemed promising. But now, as she glanced down at her phone, her heart sank. The text from Steve was short and dismissive: "Hey, I’m sorry, something came up, I can't make it today."

Her fingers gripped the phone tightly, and she let out a frustrated sigh. This wasn’t the first time a guy from the app had canceled on her. Why did she even keep giving them chances? 

As she sat, deep in thought, a deep voice broke through her haze. "Hey. You look like something's bothering you. I couldn’t help but notice. Can I say hi?"

Jen looked up, her eyes meeting a pair of dark brown eyes set in a strong face. The young Black man in front of her was tall and well-built, with an easy smile. He had dark black skin that glistened in the sunlight, his muscular physique a clear sign of someone who took care of themselves.

For a moment, Jen just stared, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t expected anyone to approach her. She’d thought the world was too busy for people to notice others in moments like these. But there he was, standing before her, his attention solely on her.

"Erm...sure, you can," she said softly, motioning to the empty space on the bench. "It's just... I'm a little frustrated."

He smiled warmly and took a seat beside her. "Sometimes life just hits us with things we don’t expect, huh?" He glanced at her phone for a split second before focusing back on her beautiful face.

Jen gave a small, almost bitter laugh. "Yeah. I was supposed to meet this guy, but he canceled on me last minute. Again. I guess I’m just tired of it."

The young Black man's eyes held hers. "I’m sorry he did that to you. You deserve a real man who’s going to show up for you."

She met his gaze, her frustration slowly melting into a small but appreciative smile. "Thanks. It’s nice to hear that."

"Anytime," he said. "I can’t see someone beautiful sitting here looking down. Life’s too short." His voice was warm. "How about this: I’ve got some free time. I could take you for a walk around the park, maybe grab a coffee. Just to take your mind off things, if you want to..."

Goddess worshipping: Paige - again!

I've posted about her previously - Paige is a tall, thicc, blonde, blue-eyed goddess who is an influencer and model from Canada. She literally makes me twitch with unfulfilled longing...

My heaven if I saw Paige out in public in those denim daisies, I think my head would explode! That body! 

Well, the bad news (or the good news?!) is that Paige is too good for me. She's been snapped up by Adrian, an alpha Jamaican business owner and investor...

Paige recently accompanied Adrian to a Jamaican Roots Festival - and we are lucky enough to be able to view some of their adventure via her postings...

There's something about these videos that does as much to trigger me as my top 5 BLACKED scenes - and that's saying something! 

It's all the elements combined: an exceptional white goddess, liberated by a Black King to free her sexuality and self-expression in a way that I know I never could - in an environment dedicated to Jamaican beats and culture. 

Paige is behaving in a way that she never would with me - at ease, care-free and deeply sexual - and that's surely the reason why more and more of the most gorgeous white woman are choosing to partner with powerful Black Kings. It is beautiful to behold and to worship girls like Paige from afar in bitter sweet sexual denial!