Cognitive dissonance is what happened to me at that moment. Somehow I was used to the fact that it was usually guys who pushed girls against a conventional wall and hovered over them, whispering obscenities in their ears with a very obvious imperative purpose. And I was terribly uncomfortable with the realization that here, in this reality, they were doing this to me!
The red-haired fury approached me and pinned me against the side of one of the minivans. I had to squint as hard as I could to make sure the exposed parts of our bodies didn't touch.
"Honey" she whispered in my ear, gently shaking her half-naked, size-three breasts. "You wouldn't mind getting a decent amount of money for half an hour of pleasure, would you?"
It was hard to resist such an offer, and under other circumstances I would have shown this insolent woman who was on top!
"S-thank you, but I'll pass!" I replied with a strained smile.
"You are so shy!" she said with a lustful smile.
She grabbed a white strand of my hair and began to wrap it around her index finger. I almost had a heart attack when I realized what she was doing! She could have been fried! Now I knew my powers didn't work through my hair. A small but perhaps important detail for the future.
"P-please don't touch me!"
"Slutty, huh? Damn, I love this guy! I think I'm finally starting to sweat!" The woman moved her hips and, letting go of my hair, used her free hand to pull up her strict, business-like skirt. "Try it!"
"I-I don't think that's a good idea..."
"Come on! Come on!" she insisted, grabbing my forearm.
You idiot! I warned her! Unfortunately, my new body's reflexes left a lot to be desired, and I didn't have time to stop her. She touched my skin and convulsed. It was as if she'd been electrocuted! Anyway, the grip of her palm on my hands only intensified, and if I hadn't broken free, it could have ended very badly.
Here's the translation of the passage you provided:
Lucky, lucky that I was able to control my feelings. After all, the energy, and the strength I received from touching the stranger, hit me hard in the first second! This couldn't be compared in any way to the time a girl touched me on the bridge in the park. Here, I got much more! But what's the reason?
After calming my emotions, I caught sight of my hands. The exposed skin quickly turned blue and was covered with fine scales. What the hell?! Terrified, I instinctively wished for everything to return to normal, and, miraculously, it did! My skin returned to its normal pale pink color, and the scales disappeared without a trace. But I still felt some changes in myself, something was definitely different than before!
The answer to all my questions came from the red-haired girl at my feet. She was still trembling, but it was gradually subsiding. On her body, just as it had on mine earlier, tiny scales appeared, and her skin rapidly turned bright blue. Her facial features and body proportions slightly melted and changed, the only thing that stayed the same was her hair color.
Now it was clear.
"Mystic, huh?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.
Looking at my hands again, I allowed them and the rest of my body to manifest the absorbed power. After a few seconds, I looked like the twin brother of the red-haired lady.
Here's the translation of the next passage:
I didn't think it would happen so quickly, but the nature of "transmigrants" is that we're inevitably drawn into situations like these. An ordinary person can live their whole life in one city and never see anything unusual. But this certainly doesn't apply to people like me! We often get caught up in stories, or we meet all sorts of amusing or dangerous characters.
A mystic, as far as I know, was also a mutant, just like my new body. Her abilities included changing her appearance, disguising herself as others, growing wings, claws, and similar things. In this way, she compensated for her initially extravagant mutant appearance. I think many mutants who had visible signs of being different from humans would give anything to hide their "ugliness."
Looking around, I made sure no one was watching us and sat down next to the girl. Apparently, she wasn't badly hurt. The first girl I unintentionally tested my mutant abilities on looked much worse after a shorter period of contact. Does this mean that regular people suffer more from my abilities, while mutants handle them better? Let's not jump to conclusions.
My head was noticeably buzzing. The power was swirling, filling me with contradictory sensations. I thought I heard a faint whisper at the edge of my consciousness. The girl at my feet, in such a helpless state, and despite her appearance, seemed quite attractive to me. Even more attractive than before!
Removing the glove from my right hand, I carefully poked my fingers into Mystique's shirtless, flat stomach. Nothing. My power didn't work through clothes, even thin ones like this! Smiling, I decided to make sure of that and removed the glove from my left hand. Okay, now I had to be careful, this fool had undone a few buttons and now her breasts seemed more open than closed. She wasn't wearing a bra either.
I adjusted her shirt a bit, put my hands right on top of her and began to gently massage her firm breasts. Oh yeah, baby! I could do this forever! These hemispheres clearly have some magic of their own!
In the movies, Mystic could "build up" any kind of clothing on herself, and she basically always walked around naked. I don't remember how it was in the comics, but she was usually depicted in a bright white dress and a thin belt of decorative skulls. Here and now, Mystique was apparently wearing real clothes, since they hadn't changed after she was pinned down by my power. But does that mean she can't make clothes? Should I try?
I could hardly tear myself away from playing with the mutant's hard nipples, but I brought my hands to my face and tried to force the abilities I'd stolen from the girl to create gloves on my hands. It didn't work right away. For about a minute I couldn't find the right approach, but I managed it. My hands were covered with an extra layer that looked like gloves but felt like a second skin.
***
Quickly touching Mystic's cheek with my finger, I immediately pulled my hand back. It doesn't work! Damn it! Well, my main mutant ability, which involves stealing others' abilities through touch, still worked as before. The gloves didn't help.
And I had already briefly thought that Mystic's abilities might help me with this. Of course, having sex while fully clothed—even if the clothing is grown from my own body—isn't exactly a pleasure, but as a halfway measure… Too bad it doesn't work. But could it have been that easy?
And now that I think about it, the original Rogue could only steal other people's abilities for a very specific amount of time. So whatever abilities I copied wouldn't be a cure-all. Still, it's necessary to test and understand the limits and nuances of my powers. The only problem is, I didn't want to keep tormenting Mystic.
In the comics, she's usually portrayed as a villain, but I didn't care. To me, she was an attractive, albeit somewhat unusual, girl I wouldn't mind having fun with—if only I could.
My hands wanted to reach out and touch her chest again, but I mustered enough willpower to fight the intrusive whisper in my head and stood up. Pulling on my gloves, I changed my skin color from blue to a more human tone. This was much easier for me than growing clothes. Does that mean Mystic's abilities work similarly? Space whales, how many questions I have, and how few answers!
After making sure I looked like a normal person and not a cosplay enthusiast with full-body weird makeup, I turned and started walking away. I could've taken Mystic's little clutch with me; there was probably plenty of interesting stuff in it besides money.
My conscience wouldn't have protested much in this case. "Rob from robbers"—it's a perfectly workable slogan. But Mystic hadn't done anything bad to me, so I wouldn't steal from her. She had tried to assault me, but she got what she deserved. Though I wouldn't mind introducing her lock to my key.
My pants felt tight, and I tried to calm down. It took a few minutes. As soon as the whisper in my head faded and the sensation of something new and unusual disappeared from my body, I managed to regain some composure. Hmm…
Finding a secluded spot, I tried to summon Mystic's abilities, but nothing happened. I struggled for a few minutes and got nothing. Does that mean they've already disappeared? I didn't have a stopwatch on me, but it seemed like they lasted about five minutes. And how long did I contact the mutant? About the same, just measuring in seconds—plus that one-tenth of a second when I intentionally touched her.
So, a second of contact is roughly equal to a minute during which I can use the copied abilities? Not to mention that prolonged contact could easily kill my victim.
Experiments are definitely needed. Damn it!
No matter how hard I tried to think of something else, hormones did their thing. Even though Mystic's indecent thoughts had left my mind and no longer influenced me, my young, unfinished body still reacted in the most predictable way!
I urgently needed to find the nearest hospital and donate some valuable biological material! I think I could even do without magazines and porn right now.