It felt like a swarm of cats had taken a dump in my mouth—this body definitely hadn't smoked before. They say the first time is the most pleasant, but that's definitely not true when it comes to smoking. Once you're hooked, you get true satisfaction from filling your lungs with harmful tobacco smoke. But before that, your sensible body seems to signal that poisoning yourself isn't exactly the smartest or healthiest choice.
Eventually, it becomes an addiction, and your body radically changes its perspective, saying, "Well, if my owner has no sense, why should I suffer? It's better to relax and enjoy it."
Too bad I can't relax right now. Why? Because standing in front of me is a full-blown stalker. Not the kind of guy who hunts down artifacts from the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, but a personal pursuer.
Tall, but pretty thin, slightly effeminate man with long hair tied up in a bun, light traces of makeup on his face, but he'd chosen to go out in jeans today instead of a dress.
A strange outfit for such hot weather, but I only thought about it after I saw his eyes. I swear I've never seen this guy, probably in his early forties, but I recognized his eyes right away. Those unusual yellow eyes.
"Do I have something on my face? Did my mascara smudge?" he asked.
We met just as I came out of the bathroom stall. My gaze immediately fixed on him. I remember I didn't really pay attention to other people in public bathrooms before—it felt a bit awkward. But years of experience taught me to be aware of my surroundings.
Not that I'm some sensory god, especially now that I no longer have a body with a chakra circulation system, but I wouldn't exactly call myself clueless either. The moment I saw his eyes, I knew something was off, but adjusting to this new body isn't easy.
"Uh… I'd say your disguise is running a little," I replied.
I glanced at the bathroom door and realized it was propped open by a mop handle on our side. A flimsy barrier, of course, but it was enough to buy me an extra second in this new body.
"Excuse me?" she asked, pretending she didn't understand what I meant.
"I'm saying you need to control your eyes better. They give you away when you're nervous or too excited."
"What?" This time, she didn't keep up the act. The woman in the form of a tall, thin man genuinely looked confused. "How did you figure that out?"
Her appearance started to change. If you could call it that, her skin turned blue, her height shrank, but her proportions changed in other ways. Her clothes also shifted—her once-toned backside and modest chest were now partially covered by a long white dress. Long white gloves appeared on her arms, almost up to her shoulders, and a chain with tiny skulls hung from her waist.
"Oh, yeah," I swallowed the lump in my throat. Despite her appearance, I could still see she was technically naked. Her clothes were fake! "It's always a pleasure to meet the real Mystique."
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised," she replied, rubbing her belly slowly, her hand drifting lower, right between her legs.
If not for the dress, she might have started masturbating right there in front of me! Shit, I don't remember her being so desperate and lewd in the comics. Could it really just be sexual frustration? Could she even be saved? Damn, if only I could, I would try to figure it out! Damn you, Archie! Burn in space whale hell!
"Usually, when people notice my natural eye color, they just don't think much of it. You, though, noticed. Or…" She switched to a seductive, sultry tone. "Maybe it's your… special ability?"
"C-Cut the act," I said, struggling with my body's natural reactions. "I don't think you stumbled upon me by accident in such a big city. You were clearly looking for me. What do you want?"
It's so much easier to talk to Jubilee. I don't see her as a potential sexual partner. She's just too small for me to even consider her legs. With Mystique, it's the complete opposite. She's older, more sexual, and even with some exoticism, my tongue gets tied and my palms start sweating.
"Straight to the point, huh?" The blue-skinned lady didn't even bother changing her tone or pulling herself together. She clearly saw that I was involuntarily reacting to her feminine magic, and she was cranking it up. "Fine. Our first meeting ended too quickly, and I didn't even get the chance to understand anything!" She pouted her lips.
"Want to do it again?" I wiped sweat from my brow.
"I want to know what happened," she said seriously for the first time since we met.
Huh. I relaxed a bit and tried to put myself in her shoes. It was pretty easy since part of her memories were still accessible to me. She probably really didn't understand what had happened. I mean, she met some guy and decided to relieve some tension quickly. How can I blame her for that?
In my world, any guy would be more than happy to sleep with a pretty girl, as long as she didn't turn into a blue-skinned, partially scaled woman with glowing yellow eyes. But judging by the reality of this world, Mystique might have actually committed a crime, raping a cute guy.
Yeah, whatever. The important thing is that this guy did something to her that knocked her out with just one innocent touch. Is that weird? Definitely. Should I figure it out? Absolutely! Because this guy might very well be a mutant!