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“Can you do me a favor?” Pom asked.

“Hmm?” Raku glanced up at her as she finished packing her gear away.

“I want to make a Raku photobook. A special edition. Only one copy printed.”

Raku frowned. “Why?”

“I want to give it to Yuki,” Pom admitted. “She’d like it, right? I think with my special vision and your”—she gestured vaguely to Raku’s body—“We could make something really spectacular.”


Pom waited patiently. She put on her cutest, most innocent smile.

“Okay,” Raku relented.

Pom couldn’t stop herself from doing a quick victory dance.



“So, how’s this going to work?” Raku asked.

They were standing in Raku’s bedroom. Pom was in the middle of rooting through her closet, looking for something suitable.

“Okay, here’s the thing: this may sound strange, but photobooks actually have a plot,” Pom said.

She pulled out a dress, then held it up to Raku, considering it.

“What do you mean?” Raku asked.

Pom shook her head. The dress wouldn’t do. She returned it to the closet.

“There’s a sense of progression,” Pom explained. “They start out with more everyday stuff, like dates and such, then get more… personal. They invite you inside of the person’s house. Inside their room.”

She held up a second dress. It wasn’t quite right, either. With a frustrated sigh, she hung it back up.

“Then what?” Raku asked.

Pom picked out a third dress, from the very back of Raku’s closet. She had to sort of crawl in there to get it. She held it up, looking from the soft yellow fabric to Raku’s body, imagining the shape of her under the dress.

It was a little lower cut than Raku typically dressed. A little less, well, flouffy. Something still wasn’t quite there, though. Grumbling, Pom waded back through the closet to replace it.

When she emerged, she said, “We need to go shopping.”



The shopping trip doubled as the first part of the photoshoot. Raku wore a nice casual dress that was flattering albeit still modest. They walked through the park, and Pom took countless candid photos of Raku admiring the greenery, the soft yellow of her dress standing out against the stark green leaves.

Pom got Raku to laugh by doing a silly dance, and her smile in that instant outshone the sun.

Then some people passing by started to stare, and Raku’s smile turned embarrassed, and Pom got photos of that, too.



As they waited for the train, Pom arranged a nice tableau, trying to capture the blue sky and green meadow while leaving out some of the unsavory background surroundings. It was a careful balancing act. She got a shot of Raku from behind, the wind gently pulling at her hair as she faced the train tracks.

On the train, Pom managed to find the perfect angle where she captured Raku’s face as well as her reflection without capturing anyone else in the photo, including her own self.

Raku gazed out the window with a dreamy longing, her eyes half-closed, a pleasant smile on her face. She seemed lost in her own world, a feeling that almost seemed too personal to share.



Before they went shopping, Pom took her out for dessert. She picked a table by the window of a cute little cake store. After evaluating the lighting, she had Raku sit down, then carefully arranged the items on the table.

She took a few photos before they started eating. Then she instructed Raku to take her first few bits very carefully and photogenically so that Pom could include a photo mid-date.

The photos featured Raku laughing and smiling at the camera. The table was small and quiet, intimate. Pom’s own plate was in the photos, too, barely in the frame.

“In a good photobook, the reader feels jealous of the photographer,” Pom explained. “They want to be where I am right now.”

She reached across the table and wiped a bit of frosting off of Raku’s mouth with her finger. Then she brought her finger to her mouth and licked it off.

Raku blushed, and Pom’s finger was quick on the shutter.



At the store, Pom put away the camera for a bit to do some real work. She’d identified a few stores with products that she thought would fall within the slim range of outfits that Raku would be interested in owning which would also match Pom’s own standards for the photoshoot.

The first store was a bust. Raku turned up her nose at everything that Pom liked. They had more success at the second one.

Well, until the standoff outside of the changing room.

“I like the white one,” Raku said.

“You’ll look better in the black,” Pom told her.

Finally, she just piled both dresses into Raku’s arms and pushed her into the changing room.

When Raku walked out a few minutes later, she just said, a little sheepishly, “I’ll go with the black.”

Pom was always right about these things. But she knew better than to gloat about it, not now. The real test was going to be in the next store.

As soon as Raku saw where Pom was taking her, she blanched.

They walked in, and Raku walked right back out. Pom had to go collect her from beside the fountain, where she was standing and pointedly looking in the other direction.

“C’mon,” Pom said. “We’ll find something you’ll look really cute in. If there’s nothing you like, we don’t have to buy anything.”

Raku begrudgingly let Pom lead her into the lingerie store.

Pom didn’t try to push her luck here. She let Raku pick out things that she liked, which were all on the more tasteful end. After trying on a few bras, Raku ended up torn between four different ones, surprising both of them. Pom picked the spiciest one, and Raku almost retracted her choice, but it was too late; Pom had already won.

Raku practically covered her face as they waited in line to buy them.

“Okay, let’s get you home,” Pom said, after they’d completed the hardest ordeal.



Back at Raku’s apartment, they ate some real food together. It wasn’t anything fancy; just some takeout, but it was early evening, and both of them were really hungry after they’d been running around all day.

“Can I get some shots of you in the new dress?” Pom asked after dinner.

Raku changed into it. When Pom saw her, her heart started pounding a bit. The black dress clung to her body, showing off her curves. It was a very un-Raku-like look, but appealing in the sense it gave of looking at something forbidden.

“Hang on, we need to redo your makeup,” Pom said.

She took Raku into the bathroom, then had her climb up onto the counter. Pom stepped up in front of her. She removed Raku’s old makeup, feeling the soft warmth of Raku’s breath on her hand as she gently rubbed the cloth on her face.

Then Pom reapplied her makeup, layer by layer. Raku gazed at her as she brushed color onto her skin. Pom chose a red lipstick, something bold to match the boldness of the dress.

“Okay!” Pom chirped. “How’s that?”

Raku turned around to gaze at the mirror. She froze for a minute, spellbound by her own reflection.

She looked almost like a different person. Like the kind of woman who’d go out late at night to strange parties. Who’d come back home with a stranger and wake up in someone else’s bed.

“Is this okay?” Raku asked, uncertain. “This isn’t really me.”

“When people buy a photobook, what they want is a fantasy,” Pom told her. 

She held out her hand and helped Raku down from the counter.

“They don’t want what you are; they want what you could be. They want the version of you that exists in their head.”

Raku gazed at her, not quite understanding.

“Trust me, you’re doing amazing,” Pom assured her.



The next set of photos, Pom took in the living room. She arranged Raku on the couch, having her sit up for some photos, and lay down for others. She also got a few of Raku by the window, her face cast half in shadow by the dwindling light.

They moved to the hallway. The lighting wasn’t as good here, so Pom had to get a bit creative, moving some lamps around. It had taken Raku some time to get used to the dress, but she was more confident in it now, more sure of herself. Pom wondered if she’d ever be able to talk Raku into wearing it outside of the apartment.

“Do you have the new lingerie on?” Pom asked her.

Raku hesitated. “Yes.”

“Could I get some pics of it?”

“No one else will see them, right?”

“Besides Yuki? No. But they will be printed in the book. Just one copy, though.”

Raku thought about it for a long moment.

“Okay,” she said.



Pom followed her into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Then Raku reached up and slowly unzipped the dress.

Pom’s breath caught.

Raku removed the rest of it with care, then set it aside. Nervously, she turned to face Pom.

She wore a black brassiere embellished with lace and ribbons. She wore matching panties, too, but it took Pom’s gaze a minute or two to make its way down there because she couldn’t stop staring at her breasts.

“Uh, wow,” Pom said. “Wow.”

Raku blushed very deeply.

“You look so fucking hot,” Pom said. “Hang on.” She’d almost forgotten that she was here to take pictures.

She fiddled with the settings on the camera.

“Lay down on the bed,” she instructed.

Raku obeyed. She stared up at Pom with a bashful look, the demureness of it all contrasting with everything else about her right now. Pom snapped photo after photo, getting every possible angle of her.

“Is this good?” Raku asked.

“You’d be hotter if someone kissed you,” Pom admitted.

“Yeah?” Raku asked. She sat up a little. “But wouldn’t that mess up my makeup?” she asked, frowning.

“Sure would,” Pom said, grinning. “That’s what makes it good,” she whispered.

Raku was staring at her with a heavy gaze. It felt like an invitation.

Pom walked over to the bed. She climbed up onto it. When Raku didn’t flinch away, she moved closer to her. Pom reached out, gently cupping Raku’s face, trying her best not to disturb her makeup and hair too much. Not yet.

Raku closed her eyes, and Pom leaned forward and kissed her.

The first kiss was more tender than anything. Pom tried to be gentle, chaste. But then Raku started to take it further, and Pom pulled back. Raku made a frustrated noise.

Pom scampered back to the camera. She got a couple more shots, admiring the artful way Raku’s lipstick was smeared.

Then she got back onto the bed, and this time Raku was the one who made the first move, resuming right where they left off.

As they kissed, Pom reached up and touched Raku’s breasts through her lingerie, and Raku moaned. Pom stopped kissing her for a moment and stared down at her, her hand still on Raku’s breast. Raku’s hair was starting to get a little disheveled, her pupils blown wide.

Pom got off the bed again. This time, Raku complained. “Pom!”

“Hang on, it’ll only take a second,” Pom said. She snapped a few more photos, feeling restless and turned on, but putting those feelings aside for a bit.

When she got back onto the bed, she climbed on top of Raku. They started kissing again, and Pom reached down and felt the front of Raku’s brand new panties. She stuck her hand in and felt how wet Raku was, how desperate.

Pom started to move her fingers, and Raku’s back arched up off of the bed. She let out a little gasp. Pom went to kiss her again, but paused, realizing she didn’t want to mess up Raku’s makeup any further.

Instead, she started to move down the bed.

“Pom,” Raku begged.

Pom gazed at her. Then she moved the panties out of the way and put her tongue on Raku instead, staring up at her as she licked her open.

Raku wriggled and let out soft breaths, her hands clutching at the sheets.

Pom could feel when Raku came, her body pulsing around Pom’s fingers, against her tongue. She didn’t make a sound, just let out a shuddering breath.

For a minute, Pom just laid on Raku’s thigh and caught her own breath. She felt Raku’s fingers carding through her hair.

Then Pom got up. She went back to the camera, her hands shaking a little. She’d kept one hand clean for this. She got a few more pics of Raku spread out on the bed, her hair haloed around her, lingerie back in place, but looking like she’d been thoroughly fucked.

“Was I good?” Raku asked, almost in a whisper, after Pom had finished taking the last few photos.

Pom lay back down beside her, feeling suddenly exhausted, even though she hadn’t even gotten a chance to come.

“You were so good,” Pom said.

“Do you want any other photos?”

Pom thought about it. At first, she wanted to say no, wanting instead to see where things took them next in bed. But her artistic vision ultimately won out.

“Maybe we could get a few more,” she said.

Raku stared at her, relaxed and pliant, waiting for further instructions.

“Let’s get you into the shower,” Pom said.



The next photos she took were of Raku in a towel. Raku’s embarrassment was all gone for these, despite the fact that she was wearing even less. Pom took some strategically framed shots where the towel just barely covered her.

Raku’s gaze in the camera lens was more teasing now, like she was inviting the viewer into the shower with her. Pom stopped just short of following her there, not wanting the water to damage the camera.



Finally, Pom had Raku dressed in a white nightgown, her hair dry again, makeup gone.

They were back in the bedroom. Raku looked genuinely sleepy, like she wasn’t doing this just for the photos.

“Lie down,” Pom said.

“Goodnight Express?” Raku asked.

“Goodnight Express,” Pom repeated.

Pom pulled the blankets up around her, and Raku closed her eyes. Pom snapped a couple photos, then decided to dim the lights before taking more. The camera shutter was so quiet, the sound was hardly intrusive at all.

After Pom had gotten her fill of photos from this angle, she went to tell Raku to move so that they could try another one, but then she listened to the rhythm of Raku’s breaths, and she realized that Raku had fallen asleep for real.

Pom rested her chin on top of the camera. For a long time, she stared down at Raku.

Then, as quietly as she could, she packed up the camera and the rest of her things and left.