In the Night Train's Eye Ch. 01

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An evil begins from humble beginnings, aiming for the top.
4.8k words
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 05/17/2009
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The alarm began its piercing scream at 5:30 a.m., the very moment Narsimha dreaded. He rolled over slightly and turned it off. Not a man to use the snooze button, he embraced the warmth of his bed and wondered why he had to get up so early. He reluctantly walked downstairs, beyond his posters of Che and Marley, to the kitchen. Any hopes to make cereal were dashed by an unusual smell in the fridge that wafted through his nose; the sink was full of an ill-fated cheese dip his neighbor Audrey had tried to make a couple nights ago.

A moan ripped through his stomach, and after looking at the limited options within his apartment, he decided on finding a place to eat where he was headed. Narsimha had just begun up the staircase when his pocket vibrated.

"Nars, seriously. Seven years working here, and just get down here, just wait until you-" The high voice shrieked in his ear.

"I'll be there, shit. Mason, it's early as hell, and you're already calling?" Nars smiled.

"Make-up is done at 7. Don't get here late! The boss needs this one."

Nars entered the studio through the back door and was still stopped by security. His Native American heritage, that of high cheekbones and black hair, was his distinguishing feature, and he was promptly let in. Nars, as he was soon nicknamed at the agency, had intimidating eyes and a physique that discouraged messing with him. Perhaps his looks were a detriment in some settings, he thought. He had had shoots with models who felt repulsed by him, resulting in a low energy level and mediocre shoot. But by many of their standards, he was an impressive looking man.

He made his way into the studio, shook hands with a modeling representative and began organizing his equipment when a voice interrupted him.

"Hahaaaa, you ready? This is your best model to date!" Mason yelled, his diminutive body moving excitedly. He withdrew a wrinkled paper from his small blazer and dropped it. Nars grabbed it and stared.

"Mr. Newton managed to get her in...didn't you talk to her manager? But the photo call and itinerary are right here," he said, handing Nars a bulging manila envelope. Within it were details for the theme of the shoot, light measures from the previous day, and a profile on the model.

"Mr. Newton has got to be pulling strings," Nars said quietly. "She's one of the top models in the world, a few swimsuit issues to her name...and she comes here. Don't repeat what I just said, got it? Work quickly, quietly and don't mess with shit."

The door opened at that moment, marking the arrival of Dwayne "Night Train" Newton. The owner of the studio and GTM Magazine strolled in alone, his head covered with a stylish fedora. He himself looked like a 1930's photo piece. Newton's customary suit and tie led Nars to look down at his own comparably shabby appearance.

A thirty-five year old black man, Newton had built his growing media empire on suspicious means. Of course, only his employees could realize that. The whole operation he ran was far from transparent, avoiding external investigation and keeping all problems in house.

As a youth, he avoided the perils of gangs and the urban warfare that simmered in the neighborhood. Even so, his protectiveness of his two younger brothers strengthened to the point he dealt with any threats, on his own. Newton's temper became legendary.

Upon the murder of his younger brother Deacon, the three murderers hid out on the other side of town and drank heavily. They had no fear of reciprocation. But by the time the "gas" explosion had subsided, their house had been destroyed, the three men had been killed, and dental records were needed for the coroner.

Of course, the man standing before Nars showed nothing of the sort. Newton unleashed a wide, unsettling grin in their direction and offered his hand.

"Hey fellas. I assume you're ready to go and do this right. But more importantly, Mason quit your moving around, stand up straight! And Nars, we're on those terms, aye? Isabel María Muñoz ," he said fondly.

He took Nars by the shoulder and walked him from the others. Nars shifted uncomfortably until Newton chuckled softly.

"Man, I'm not going to kill you. Relax now; we need the model to get good vibes from you, y'hear? But she's another animal, this girl. She's exactly what we need, a step up from the department store catalogs and shit to the big time. Now listen, you're probably wondering how we got her, but ask yourself this, would you want to make her our top model?"

He smiled, already knowing the answer.

"You'll do fine. But make it happen on your own. Don't rely," he said, pointing in Nars' chest, "On anyone else. Of course, that's what I'm doing now."

"Sir, I'll do my be-" Nars began. But Newton had given him an encouraging slap on the shoulder and started away. Newton walked slowly towards a brightly lit door, paused as if to say something, and meandered out.

The next hour Nars set up the equipment: the lighting and cameras, as Mason lingered excitedly on his cell phone. The small man lent no help, oblivious to the grunts of his friend. Nars wiped sweat off his brow. At least, he reasoned, the work would lead to bigger and better things.

The door opened, and three people walked in. Nars instantly recognized María Muñoz. To say she was a stunner would be an understatement. Her dark hair framed her perfect face and pointed to her other assets. Standing tall and proud, her juicy breasts were held by a timid halter top. Nars noticed the slight tremble each breast gave upon her steps, only teasing any man lucky enough to be in her presence.

The long-legged brunette was wearing Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses and low-rider jeans. Her face was contorted into a painful expression as she yelled into her cell phone.

"And how long is it supposed to be? I never signed that contract!" She complained in her Argentinean accent.

It wasn't altogether unexpected for models to balk at shoots, Nars knew. He had not dealt with a girl of her caliber, but he knew he had to change her mood. Nars stood upright, loosening his sore back. She approached him very quickly, even pulled her cell phone from her ear, and leaned towards him.

"You, are you the photographer? I need to see the contract!" Isabel demanded, flipping her hair wildly. She put her hands on her hips, exposing her smooth stomach. Her flawless skin, the color of honey, and deep cleavage led Nars to hesitate.

"Ms. María Muñoz, I looked at it, and everything is here," Nars said, opening his manila folder. He pulled out a couple sheets and handed them to the girl. The nails of her delicate hands sparkled in the light.

"Here it is, your signature. We really hope to have a great shoot today," he said with a nervous shrug. The raven-haired Latina flashed her eyes at him and stormed off towards the dressing room. He couldn't help noticing her tight ass and what it did to her jeans.

Mason had stopped moving. He was finally frozen in place, his hands wedged deep in his pockets. Nars laughed heartily for the first time all day. It was only 7:15 after all, but with several hours ahead of him, it would seem to be a very long day.

"Nars, what is going on? Sure, she's beyond gorgeous, but we can't have this fucked up like this. Imagine Mr. Newton and her yelling at you in the same day, and all because we can't handle an assignment like this."

"I don't think Newton would yell at us, it's fine if she does, but you got to listen to me. We are sitting on either our graves or a gold mine. This is his money, and more importantly, his opportunity to get a hell of a lot more. A killer layout with this girl would make him, understand?" Nars said emphatically.

"I do," Mason said simply as the two men watched Isabel get ready. She was getting the finishing touches from make-up, and her long hair spilled over her shoulders down to her lower back.

Of course, the black bikini she was wearing matched her well and exposed her body for all to see. The frilly lace edges gave it a distinctive lingerie look, not that either men were looking at that as much. Isabel's butt stood out proudly, two bronze orbs that were intersected by the bikini string. It jiggled with her movement and snapped back into place. It was truly magnificent.

She turned, her stunning face and cleavage now pointed in their direction and making them blush red. Mason wilted under the pressure, and even with years of dealing with models, had to hide the growing bulge in his pants. He walked away without saying a word.

Nars began walking in her direction. She noticed and gave him a smoldering glare, only after pulling her bikini away from her butt and allowing it to snap firmly back in place.

"Ms. Toscani-" Nars began.

"Shit! Please call me anything, anything but that. You do know my name?" She questioned as make-up finished up. The portly assistant hurried off, leaving the two alone. Nars' eyes followed the woman until her exit and returned to the sexy creature before him.

"Let's get this going, Isabel. I'm Narsimha, or Nars. I don't want to be here any more than you, okay?" He extended his hand to her. She reluctantly took it, and Nars was hit at once by the softness of her skin and her exquisite smell. It was fruity and definitely beyond his realm of control. He immediately felt a throbbing sensation in his pants; luckily he had cameras to attend to and made his escape.

"Look, I can't know what you've gone through. I do know you've got a great portfolio, and I'm thrilled, just thrilled to work with you. Hell, I don't know how we booked you at all, but we need to do this and do it well," Nars said. She sighed, unimpressed, and stood in front of the cameras.

Despite their lack of connection, Isabel proved to be a capable model. Nars did not have to direct her poses or body movements at all- it seemed every pose the Latina did complemented her body in some way. She varied her positions from standing to getting down on all fours, jutting her inviting ass in front of the camera. The flawlessness of her skin, hair, and body had Nars sexually frustrated within minutes: so much that he had her change outfits early so he could cool down.

Isabel emerged from the dressing room wearing a red tank top that clung to her well formed breasts. It was the bottom, however, that grabbed Nars' attention. She wore a black skirt, best described as a schoolgirl skirt that rode from her groovy hips to a few inches above her knee. Her slender legs stabbed into the ground in a pair of silver heels that fit her feet well, and her sleek hair was placed in two pigtails on either side of her head.

"How're you feeling? Anything you need at all, go ahead and tell me because once we start shooting..." Nars said playfully.

"I'm fine," she replied sullenly. Isabel then crouched down, her thighs on top of her lower legs, exposing her underwear slightly. Nars aimed the camera carefully, allowing the frame to catch her extremely toned legs and the silky blue snatch between her legs.

She turned more to the camera, and using her hands, squashed her breasts together. The result was a delicious canal of her flawless bronzed skin, that surely would bring dirty thoughts to thousands come press time. Isabel moved her hands further under and pushed upwards, exposing her lace bra and nearly a nipple.

She leaned back as she did so, eventually to the point of lying down, which made her skirt ride up. Once more her underwear became visible, but this time her whole panties could easily be seen. It revealed the connection of her two sexy gams, and her most intimate area.

Nars took a deep breath and tried to think about baseball. But as he did, her scent reminded him of the writhing supermodel at his feet. She spread her legs to the point the silky panties clung tightly to her slight mound. Her well-pedicured feet brushed him slightly as she did so, and she shot him an annoyed look.

With that, she crawled sexily to her feet and took a couple steps backward. Isabel began to pull her skirt towards her cute belly button slowly, allowing Nars to settle under her and take pictures of her exposed crotch. She did so in a slinky way, again revealing her panties to Nars. The supermodel's lavish perfume filled his nose and excited him; he knew he had to move to the next segment, but the way her panties stretched over her cunt was simply delicious.

"I need the other side," he said reluctantly.

Isabel stubbornly complied. She flipped her skirt up, exposing her tight ass. The underwear only scantily covered her butt, which she manipulated by tugging up or to the side. Her delicious ass moved under her command, until she let the silky garment slide back between her cheeks.

"Get ready for the water," he said apologetically, as he sprayed water on her butt and inner thighs. The water made her butt shine and her panties somewhat see-through.

Isabel gave an unappreciative yelp and stare in his direction. Nars shrugged, and the two got back to work.

She bent forward at the waist and managed to touch the floor with her hands. Upon getting her palms flat on the floor, Isabel wiggled her ass, which made her skirt ride further up her hips. Her glistening ass was in such a vulnerable position Nars had to avoid his primal urges and take a couple steps back. Through his viewfinder, he focused on the plump ass in front of him, the skirt barely covering its top, and the clingy panties that disappeared between her cheeks.

Just as suddenly, Isabel had risen upright and shifted her skirt to more lady-like levels. She yawned silently as she reached her arms upward and stretched until she was content. She looked at Nars, who was adjusting the lighting for their next segment and trying not to get over-stimulated looking at her body.

"Don't blow your shorts there, hon," she snickered as she went to change.

Mason had made his way back into the studio by that time to check how it was going. He made it in time to see Nars fiddling with his camera, and just as he was about to ask about Isabel, she returned. The fiery Latina wore hardly anything at all. In fact, Mason did a double-take at her skimpy bikini.

Nars looked at her girly pink number and looked down exasperated. The pure sexual force flowing from her body was downright sinful; the bikini informed the world she shaved and the top accentuated her juicy breasts. Isabel walked in front of the camera and flicked her hair impatiently.

***

Dwayne Night Train Newton tipped his fedora up and peered down at the girl writhing at his feet. He stared at the sleek muscles of her shoulders as they rippled and twitched. Clad in only a tank top and panties, Isabel María Muñoz made an impressive sight. Newton put a hand on her lower back and steadied her. He looked over her gently moving body and ended at her hands. The supermodel's long fingers would hold a ring well, he reasoned, when the time was to make her his. Having a woman like her, he knew, would easily meet his expectations: sassy, strong, and beautiful. Her creamy stomach would bulge with his children in the future.

But before him now lay a girl. Newton wanted to make her his woman. It had taken effort and little struggle to show for it- the delicate skin that covered her body was marred only in one spot- a tiny needle prick on her neck.

He slowly came to stand above her. The lush Latina lay on her back with her legs only slightly spread, her arms clutched tightly to her breasts. The result was a luscious amount of her breasts sliding together. The sweat soaked tank top she was wearing did little to hide her nipples, which had begun peaking out of its top.

"You sexy bitch," he muttered as he descended upon her. Newton carefully got on top of her and was sure to use his legs to spread hers. As her ripe legs were opened, her underwear conformed to the folds of her cunt, only heightening his fierce desire. He pushed her sexy thong to the side and saw her pussy for the first time. It was the smallest, cutest pussy he had ever seen. And not a hair graced it.

He turned his attention to her nearly exposed breasts, shining in a sweat soaked mess. Newton savored the sight so much as to study her nipples, which were a dark pink color that grew darker upon his shadow covering them. He placed each hand on a breast and squeezed. The resulting marks on her skin immediately disappeared, and they returned to their flawless state. Newton moved his hands upward to the tank top itself, and with a jolt of gusto, ripped the garment up and off the girl. Her breasts jiggled lively for a moment before coming to rest.

She moaned softly, oblivious to the big black man on top of her. If only she knew the plans Night Train had for her, Isabel would have struggled. But she did not awake, and Newton continued his assault.

With the supermodel spread and naked, he did not intend to waste time. Her body stimulated him from the start, and his massive erection proved it. At eleven inches and thick as a beer can, it looked preposterous and certainly unable to fit in her. Newton eyed the ripe pussy before him and moved forward until his dick was touching her sweet folds. The contrast of her honey dew skin and his black dick had never been more apparent until now.

His dick nestled its way between her outer folds with little effort- it was only half an inch of penetration. But immediately after, he faced resistance. She was far too tight to try to take his monster sized dick, and he probably realized that. Nevertheless, he grunted as he tried to push into her further.

Isabel shifted her body weight away from Newton, which made the going tougher. He responded by sliding his hands underneath her world class ass and stoutly holding herself there. Newton could feel the trembling in her body, and her loud gasp.

Something had given in her pussy to allow his thick head inside. He smiled and knew he was going to be in business.

"Aw shit, this is some good pussy," he gritted. Newton began thrusting harder to open up some space for himself, and it was hard to come by. Regardless, her walls began opening up for him, stretching for him, and allowing entry to her most sacred place.

Her tightness faded. Newton bottomed out inside the Latina, much to his amazement. Her pussy was stretched to its maximum and almost obscene levels throughout his vicious pounding. He hoped he wouldn't ruin her pussy early on: with a dick of his size, it was bound to happen sooner or later. The blur of his black dick entering her fresh opening only added to the wrongness of it all and excited Newton.

He withdrew his dick from her with a wet slurping sound and retreated a couple inches. Isabel moaned sexily and began to cross her right leg over her left. As she did so, Night Train scooped a handful of her ass and pushed her onto her stomach, leaving her perky ass for the taking.

"I know you want this, you little bitch. Get used to it, in limos, parties, changing rooms," he spat out. Her body was dripping with sweat to the point that her silken hair clung along her back, just above her ass. A drop rolled from the peak of her butt down to her inner thighs, hesitated a moment, and fell into her crease. In response, she absently wiggled her ass into a more comfortable position and in the process ignited his lust.

Newton locked the girl under him in a doggy style position by resting his stomach on her back. His black, hairy chest rubbed against her flawless back, once again demonstrating the marked differences in their bodies. It was a stunning contrast, not only in the scope of skin color, but how a man like Dwayne Night Train Newton could be fucking a girl of her extreme beauty.

His dick once again lined up with her pussy, but her thong had shifted to block entry into her. Carefully using his thumbs he slid the soaked garment down her legs, and upon removing it, he stuffed it into his pocket.

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