There's a matter I need to address, though, for anyone who is a fan of my other novel, Good Intentions. It has to do with the question of an "original version." One part of this "original" stuff is shared below. For some fans, I could cut right to the chase... but given how Poor Man's is working out for me, I quite likely have some readers now who didn't start out with me as a result of Good Intentions. So, here we go:
As I noted in an earlier blog post, I started out writing what became Good Intentions while I had hit a small snag in writing Poor Man's Fight. Good Intentions was originally a series posted on Literotica.com under the title of "Angels, Demons and Alex." It was the first erotic anything that I had ever written, barring some racy letters between myself and a gal in high school who... um... well, that was twenty years ago. Anyway...
"ADA" was posted, in the beginning, in a serialized format. I posted each chapter as I wrote it. I did a few things there that were simply a matter of shameless pandering to my (underinformed) perceptions of the Literotica audience. For one thing, I felt like I had to make sure there was sex in every chapter, or at least ALMOST every chapter. (The first had none, and there was no prologue originally.) When I put the series together as the novel of Good Intentions, I had to consider the whole work as one big story... and that meant some stuff, like a couple of sex scenes and a couple of plot threads that went nowhere, had to go.
There are a couple of cut pieces I'm happy to share here on my blog. My favorite of them comes after the cut below. I'll post another at some later date.
I need to make something clear: the notion of there being an "original" version of "ADA" is really something of a murky topic. You see, the story evolved as I wrote it--a topic for another blog post--and thus I went back and changed stuff in the earlier chapters even while I was finishing the later stuff.
So, to be blunt: I don't have an "original copy" to send to anyone. I have an old computer tower in my closet that may have some of the material you miss, but that would depend on what material you're hoping to find. Some of it I genuinely wish I had never written, and have no intention of sharing with anyone ever again. They were my growing pains as a writer of erotica, guys. This is not a "Han Shot First" issue so much as it's like remembering the pilot of a TV series as being awesome until you dig it up on VHS and watch it and realize it was terrible TV. I am very sorry if this disappoints anyone. I know we all have varying tastes. I stand by my decisions and Good Intentions as a complete work.
Now, all that said: I promised you a "deleted scene." I didn't delete this one so much as I replaced it, because it's a tiny bit of what is more or less fanfic included in an otherwise completely original work. I didn't want any issues of copyright or to look like I was somehow making money off of someone else's creative IP.
I was, however, quite proud of this piece. I kinda wish I had kept it in the book and called it a "parody," but, alas, it was a risk I wasn't willing to take in my first work. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:
Alex Carlisle's Totally Not Safe For Work Marty Stu Wet Dream
“The preliminary tests say Sergeant Carlisle is fine, but we know the Goa’uld have tricked us before,” Dr. Frasier said. She stood over the young airman’s body where it was strapped to his hospital bed. As with most everywhere else in Stargate Command, the infirmary was darkly lit and not terribly comforting.
“Dammit, Alex saved our lives out there,” Colonel O’Neill snapped. “That’s gotta be our boy.”
“Or part of a Goa’uld plot,” Dr. Daniel Jackson put in. “Jack, you know as well as we do. The System Lords wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice a couple dozen Jaffa to make an infiltrator’s insertion into our ranks look believable.”
“I concur,” Teal’c said emotionlessly. “Sgt. Carlisle fought admirably in disrupting the Jaffa ambush. Yet if he has been taken over by a Goa’uld symbiote, then his rescue of SG-1 was all a spam.”
O’Neill’s hands, once covering his face in frustration, now slid down so his eyes could look upon Teal’c. “Scam, Teal’c. I think the word you’re trying to use is ‘scam.’ Or maybe ‘sham.’”
“Doctor, how soon will you know for sure?” General Hammond broke in.
“Give me a couple hours to run some more tests,” she shrugged.
“Right. Well, people, we’ve got a briefing, so let’s get to it.”
As they left, Major Samantha Carter paused to grasp the patient’s shoulder. “Hang in there,” she said, and then left. Soon, it was just Dr. Frasier, Alex, and all the straps and restraints keeping him imprisoned on the bed in case he was inhabited by one of their enemies.
“So, uh…what more can I do, Doc?” Alex asked. “I mean, I know you can’t just take my word for it that I’m not carrying a symbiote.”
“Well, Sergeant,” Dr. Frasier said, walking to the door and closing it – and, oddly, locking it – “our autopsies of a few people possessed by Goa’uld symbiotes when they died gave us the chance to see how they effect the human body. There’s at least one way I can verify right now that you are or aren’t a Goa’uld host…but if you aren’t, you’ll have to give me your word that you won’t tell anyone about it.”
“Although, if you are a Goa’uld host, no one would believe you, anyway.” Pointedly, the lovely older woman took off her surgical gloves, washed her hands, and then rubbed them with…something?
“Right. Well, I’m not, so I give my word. I won’t tell anyone. Gotta be top secret stuff, right?”
Dr. Frasier hid a smirk. “Yes, Sergeant. Highly classified information.”
“Okay. What do we…um…doctor?”
She didn’t answer, merely raising an eyebrow as she slipped a hand under the folds of his hospital gown between his legs. Her lubricated hand caressed his nuts, found his penis, and began to play and stroke.
“This is a test?” Alex asked, trying to keep his breathing steady.
“Yes,” Dr. Frasier nodded, though clearly her own breath was a bit heavy. “Goa’uld symbiotes cause a discoloration of semen. That,” she said, and then smiled tauntingly as her hand encircled his now very erect and engorged cock, “and something tells me no System Lord could stand being sexually controlled by a human woman.”
Alex groaned in pleasure. The beautiful doctor had a touch that did much more than heal. “Their loss,” he huffed.
Dr. Frasier’s manipulation of his cock grew more sensuous yet firmer, and as she looked from his eyes to his groin it was clear who was in charge here. “Despite this personal familiarity, Sergeant,” she said in a seductive tone, “I expect that you and I will be able to keep up proper military decorum on the base.”
“Oh, yeah, sure, ma’am,” Alex breathed. Her attention to his cock never let up in speed or grip. His eyes rolled back into his head. Alex’s hips pushed up the full quarter-inch of give allowed by the straps. His breath grew shorter and quicker until he finally let out a loud grunt. Dr. Frasier was quick; she had a hand towel at the ready.
She looked down at the towel, then at Alex. His pleasure gave way to alarm. “What?” he asked. “Is something – oh god, ma’am! Doctor, please don’t tell me I’ve got one of those things inside me!”
The doctor reached up to her neck with her left hand to pull loose her regulation tie and unbutton the collar of her uniform shirt. “No,” she said coolly, “but as you’re such a robust, young, healthy male of such obvious discretion…and you’re still quite aroused,” she went on, unbuckling her belt and looking him in the eye, “I think I’d like to have this thing in me.”
A moment later, several – but not all – of the restraints were undone, allowing Alex the use of his hands and some freedom to his hips. Dr. Frasier climbed on top of him, her pants gone and her shirt undone. She leaned in close to his face and whispered, “Also, when we’re alone like this, I’d prefer to be called Janet.”
Alex awoke to the oddest sensations around his groin. Just as when he’d gone to sleep and as he’d awoken yesterday, he was mostly enveloped by Lorelei’s mouth. One hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, while the other lay against his hip. Yet there was strange pulsating feeling within Lorelei’s mouth, and the feeling of her breath coming out in a sharp rapidity against his groin as she was…giggling?
He grunted, and she pulled off of him. He had never heard her giggle before, and with her head now buried against his left hip, he couldn’t be sure that was what she was – no, she was definitely giggling.
Realization hit him like a pie in the face. “Oh, no,” he groaned...