Ghost Sex The Violation

by G L Davies

  © G L Davies 2014

  The Paranormal Chronicles presents

  Ghost sex: The Violation

  By

  G L Davies

  Introduction

  If you haven’t already guessed this book is based on two very controversial subjects, sex and the paranormal. I would imagine that one or both are of some interest to you but before we begin I must warn you that this book, this paranormal account, is unnerving and the graphic and descriptive nature of the spectral intrusion and violation may be both unsettling and offensive to those of a more conservative persuasion. I believe if you have picked up a novel called Ghost sex: the Violation then I would imagine you have some inkling to what the subject matter will entail.

  Are you still there? Good, then let’s start with a deep and profound question that I need to ask you, to ask yourself. It is important that you do so, as you need to know what bearing, if any, sex has on your life. As you will have concluded by the title of this book, sexual violation is a key theme in the investigation we are to conduct. Do not base this answer on what you have been told to believe, or one you expect others to believe is your answer. You must be honest. The question is: What does sex mean to you?

  Is the physical act of sex a way of achieving closeness, possibly to solidify a bond? Is sex a way of differentiating a romantic relationship from that of a plutonic one? Maybe sex is a way of getting people to like you, so that you feel attractive and desirable? Do you give yourself as an expression of gratitude and acceptance? Perhaps to some it is a physical and emotional expression, and to some just an animalistic and carnal urge that is programmed into the human condition to simply fornicate and reproduce, a part of us as normal as breathing and excreting. Is sex the heartbeat of a relationship? Or is sex just good exercise and an enjoyable, fun and adrenaline fuelled rollercoaster of physicality and pleasure? It might be a mixture of feelings but whatever sex means to you, it is constantly there. Whether you have too much, too little, have abstained or can’t get any at all, we all realise that sex is an important part of our lives. However, imagine if you will that your body is at the whim of an unknown and unseen visitor, which will conduct an illegal intrusion upon you. You cannot stop it, reason or plead with it, or even ask for help from such tangible institutions as the police, medical or psychological practices. No justice can be served on the entity that has sexual union at its own malevolent whim. Just when you feel that you can despair no longer, you have given in to the mal-treatment and to the defilement; suddenly you realize that this paranormal incursion into your life may not be as bad as you first thought. Can you envisage that you have submitted and have accepted this taboo as a personally justifiable occurrence?

  How would that affect those close to you? Consider your current partner if you have one and ask yourself how would they react if you were to have a paranormal affair? Could they lie next to you at night content in the knowledge that a metaphysical visitor, with a power far superior to our own, is having carnal relations with you? That something unearthly and quixotic is pleasuring you in a way they cannot. Would they take this in their stride, or see it as some negligence on your behalf, or perhaps that of God? Could you both look at each other the same way knowing that a third member was now part of your sacred relationship? There are so many questions that you will consider once you have undertaken this read and joined me on this investigation. This is indeed a journey that perhaps you did not expect to undertake today.

  The paranormal of course is based on your own subjectivity and the experiences or beliefs that you have. Some people are hardened to this subject and can take the unexplained in their stride, but for some it is a terrifying topic. Regardless of your stance, I believe this investigation will have elements that will take you by surprise, the detail and ferocity of the events bestowed upon the home will shock you.

  I have investigated the paranormal for over twenty five years. I have witnessed some truly baffling sights and experiences and have been able to bring peace to troubled and disturbed people by offering a solid and rational explanation for the events happening to them. In some cases I have been given no choice but to notify the authorities as the events perceived to be occurring are due, sadly, to a breakdown of mental and emotional functionality that have the possibility to do harm to others. This case, the one before you now, is like nothing I have ever been involved with. It breaks new grounds in terms of the experiences perceived by the witness’s and by the information collated in the subsequent investigation that ends this account.

  If you think you know about paranormal encounters, if you think this is just a Welsh version of the Entity or a more sexually descriptive version of the potter’s wheel scene in Ghost, then I ask you to reconsider and push away any preconceptions of what you are about to read. If the accounts presented are real, then every single one of us on this blue globe, spinning in the cosmos, is susceptible to a terrifying and illegal breach onto our physicality. If your house is deemed to be haunted then maybe the events happening so far just herald far more terrifying activity yet to occur.

  I am by my own admission no William Shakespeare and where I may make grammatical and spelling errors I make up with a passion and enthusiasm to uncover the truth, to report to those willing to take the time to read these accounts of paranormal events happening to real people, just like you. For those of you that read my previous offering of A most haunted house, which was the raw and gritty account of a haunting so devastating that it tore the world apart of a young couple just trying to settle together and find happiness in a new home, then this account is just as confounding. Not only by the spirits need for sexual intrusion, but also for the chilling and terrifying haunting that took place in the home and its effects on the other members of the household. This is not just an account of a ghost’s sexual wrong doing, but of a paranormal infiltration and haunting into a normal household in a town in Pembrokeshire.

  The investigation and interviews I conducted have some of the strangest and unique factors that I have transcribed. The Paranormal exceeds what is deemed physically possible based upon our times scientific assumptions so, as I did with A most haunted house, I ask that you take the account and digest it and fathom it in a fashion best suited to you. It is not for me to force upon you any beliefs of what occurred at this home in Pembroke Dock, but for you to use your own beliefs, theories and philosophies and decide for yourself. Unlike A most haunted house I was able, along with a psychologist, to spend a week at the home to conduct a more thorough investigation. After the family’s account which follows shortly, my investigation shall be presented to you to help you discern on the nature of the events. You are now the investigator and through my thorough interview techniques I ask that you look for evidence and clues on what you believe is fact or fiction.

  The transcripts are in the words of the people involved. Often it shall be raw, gritty and exceptionally vulgar and colourful at times, but these are the ways in which the family express themselves. This is their story and I ask that you take the time to concentrate on the accounts they tell and not the way they deliver it, as through their own expression and words you get a closer and truer look at what they experienced. You get a feel on their backgrounds and their upbringings, the very fabric of their countenance. We would also like you to note that during the questions regarding the sexual and graphic nature of the offense that a female investigator accompanied myself for those sessions and that the names of the people involved have obviously been changed to protect the anonymity of the family. Dates, locations and details that could link to the family have been changed and the accounts have been arranged into a more chronological fashion so, you, the reader can become more involved in the events as they happened. The family
have given me full permission to publish their story on the basis that if others out there have had similar experiences; it may help make sense of what happened. This account is shocking, chilling and exceptionally detailed in places so be warned this paranormal chronicle may not be to everyone’s liking.

  Are you still there?

  Excellent, then let’s meet the family.

  Lisa

  I meet with Lisa at her home in Pembroke Dock. Pembroke Dock is a town in Pembrokeshire, south-west Wales, lying north of Pembroke on the River Cleddau. Originally a small fishing village, the town was greatly expanded from 1814 onwards following the construction of a Royal Naval Dockyard. It is the third largest town in Pembrokeshire after Haverfordwest and Milford Haven. Today, much of Pembroke Dock's maritime industry has gone. The town continues to cope with high unemployment, limited public and private investment, and decaying buildings. The town briefly had resurgence in the late 1990s and early 2000s with the arrival of large superstores and the development of the Cleddau Business Park.

  Lisa sees herself as fortunate as she has worked for a national company for sixteen years, now in her early forties and mother of one, Lisa sits in her living room smoking a cigarette. She is pleasant and agreeable and her face does not reflect the trouble past she has endured. She is happy to reminisce about her childhood days and relationship with her family;

  Lisa: I was born in Cambridgeshire in January 1972. It was snowing very heavily according to my Mum, and she said Dad never saw me being born, he didn’t see much of us all to be honest. My old man was In the R.A.F (Royal Air force) and we travelled around a bit. We lived in Cardiff for a few years before settling in Pembrokeshire around 1980. He was posted to R.A.F Brawdy and I have been here ever since. Mum and Dad separated in 1982 and we haven’t really seen him since, he left the R.A.F and became an overseas contractor for a big company. I have heard that he re-married and had a new family. I don’t mind them turning up one day if they are rich, but if not they can bugger off! Most people that know me down here don’t know that I am a twin, we were two girls and her name was Rose and she died when we were eight. She was run over outside a school. Dad was never the same and Mum became mixed up with some spiritualist people, I guess she was trying to hold onto to something, you know? Like maybe she wasn’t gone, but living in heaven or as a spirit. Mum changed her outlook completely and became really spiritual and holistic. She and Dad never really were the same together. He would drink and work and she would dabble in séances and Ouija boards and things with these other women. She is convinced that Rose has had long chats with her. I never heard or saw Rose after. She was killed and it is what it is.

  I liked Rose, we got on really well. You asked me earlier about whether anything like this has happened before; you asked if when I was younger I had experienced any paranormal activity. When we were about 5 or 6, Rose and I shared a room and our beds were a few feet apart. We would go to bed and we would wake up and something would land on my bed and then land on Roses, like something was jumping from bed to bed. You could not see anything, but at that age we used to find it funny. We used to call it the naughty boy as it would tickle our feet sometimes and hide things in our room. Mum shouted at us one night, as she said we were messing about and jumping around, and we were in hysterics as we were in bed laughing and it was naughty boy doing it. Mum was furious and used to threaten to take our toys away and we would be sad and say it wasn’t us. She believes me now, but back then being a Mum on your own, pretty much raising two girls because Dad is working, must have been difficult and tiring. Any mother out there knows that tiredness. Mum believes now though, she believes in everything. If the Yeti and a spaceman were sat in the garden having a tea she would take it all in her stride. That’s how much Rose’s death affected her. It changed her beliefs so much.

  I often think about naughty boy and how so many children have imaginary friends. Did Rose and I imagine him or was he really a ghost? I heard a customer talking to another lady last week, she was saying that her little boy has an imaginary friend and I smiled inside and thought, is it imaginary? Or do kids see spirits at a younger age?

  After Rose was killed I was upstairs in my room, just looking at the pale grey sky, there were lots of people downstairs. I think they kept me out of the way as mum and dad were so distraught. I just looked out of the window and I felt so cold and tired. I felt like I could just sleep and never wake up again. There is a strong connection with twins, unless you are one you can never fully understand, but her pain and loss I could feel. It was almost like an echo of her passing was hitting me in a wave, slowly getting smaller and smaller until finally I knew she was gone completely. I felt like I was slipping away from this world. Then I heard a weeping, a soft sob in the room, I looked and there was nothing. I felt a hand touch my hair and a chill went through me, like a cold draught touched my bones and the crying stopped. Most people might say it was Rose, I don’t think so; I think it was naughty boy, I think he was sad and he missed her. Naughty boy never did anything again, never bounced on the bed, never tickled my feet. He simply vanished. I lost two friends that day and my parents were never the same again. It is mad how in one day, one hour, and one minute, your whole life can change.

  Mum had an interesting theory that the reason naughty boy was sad was because he was leaving me behind to be with Rose. Rose would be all alone in the spirit world and I would be O.K as I had Mum and Dad and I would have a life and friends. He went to be with her and play with her and keep her company. I like that idea, naughty boy and rose forever young and playing in a place where there is no time and no illness or pain. I like that.

  Dad left and Mum got a council house here in the Dock. Mum didn’t seem that upset, it was like she expected it and she got even more spiritual and hippy like. She had a string of boyfriends, none lasted, and none really bothered with me, which suited me fine. I began to settle into Pembrokeshire life, I made friends, did O.K. at school and not much really happened. When I was sixteen I met this guy called Ian, who lived at a farm not far from Pembroke Dock, we got on well and we went out with each other. A few months after meeting him I got pregnant and left school.

  We were far too young to have children. Ian worked on his parent’s farm and they paid him a pittance. They were so fucking tight, like misers. They didn’t help the baby at all. It was like they were ashamed of us. Ian would pop over and he tried to be a Dad, you got to remember he was only a bit older than me; he went from hanging around with his mates and having fun to changing nappies with me in my mum’s house. Mum was great, she raised Tyler like he was her own, she didn’t have much but mum made sure we didn’t do without. When Ian got up and left and never contacted us again, it was mum that was there, no one else, just mum. Ian’s miserable twat parents never told me where he was, never helped Tyler, and never even sent us a Christmas card. I have no idea where Ian is now, I don’t hate him as at times I wished I could just run away but you can’t, not when you have a little baby to take care of. He could and he did. Wherever he is I hope he is ok. His parents come into the shop where I work and go out of their way to avoid me, the horrible twats. They have a grandson in his twenties and they have never met him. Tyler tries, he’s a good lad and he will get there eventually, he just hasn’t found out who he is yet. The sad part is that Tyler had to come back home and live with me again and what’s been happening hasn’t just centred on me, no, it takes it out on him as well. As a mother I feel so useless, I should be able to protect my son.

  Tyler

  Tyler sits before me with a roll up cigarette and a coffee. He has his mother’s green eyes and brown hair. He is short and stocky and looks tired and has not shaved in several days. He is far more reserved than his mother and has a nervousness about him. He clearly is not comfortable and appears anxious about the interview process and the subject of the haunting at his home. I have to work hard, guaranteeing his anonymity, his body language shows tell-tale signs that he does not welcome another unwanted s
tranger into his home. He gets up and leaves and he and his mother have a hushed discussion in the kitchen. He returns, grumpily sits back down and makes a new smoke. He looks at me direct in the eye and asks again to confirm that they shall remain anonymous and that my role here is to help document the events and possibly offer a rational explanation, maybe help others experiencing the same things. I assure him, I explain what I do and how I will try and help him and his mother, he relaxes and after some small talk he begins his interview.

  Tyler: You know I’m not sure about all of this, all of this ghost shit. Sometimes I think it’s us, that we see things, the human race that is, like a psychological disorder, a mental illness we have that makes us believe we see ghosts and aliens and supernatural things. Maybe we developed it because we are scared of dying but we are just like ants in a nest. This world is the nest and we crawl all over it, working, screwing…dying. I think sometimes life is nothing more than that.

  I’m twenty four now and I’ve been back living with mum for about two years. I had my own place in town when I was working at the call centre but when I lost that job after a few months I had to move back as I could not afford the rent anymore. I liked the job, they were really good to me, really supportive but I kept not turning up or coming in late. I’d have a heavy weekend and I’d be fucked on the Monday. Nice place, nice people, but not for me. It was my own fault I lost the job.

  I’ve had a few jobs, I worked filling shelves in a supermarket in Haverfordwest but there weren’t enough hours there so I quit and worked at a local tourist attraction for a summer and that was O.K but the role ended in October. I liked that job, it was good to be outside and I met some really nice people there, some nice girls.

  I think if I could choose my perfect job then it would be in the army or navy or something. My granddad was a pilot or something and he got to travel the world. I have asthma and that holds me back, I should give up smoking and maybe start a health kick, a detox, but I never find the time to get around to it. I’ll try in the New Year. Believe it or not I did alright in school, I got some A levels in English and geography, but I only stayed on in school as I didn’t know what else to do and I didn’t fancy just getting a job for the sake of it back then. I wish I hadn't done useless A-levels, I should have gone to Pembrokeshire College and got a trade like a plumber or mechanic. That’s where the money is. Now I don’t mind what I do as long as I get money as you don’t get much on the dole, seventy odd quid a fortnight. You get treated so badly when you don’t have a job, it’s like you are judged, I ask the job centre people all the time for solutions and they send me on stupid courses. One course taught me how to turn on a computer, what a waste of fucking time. Mums good though, she don’t ask for keep and she works full time and she lends me a bit for going out or bus fare. She’s good like that. She’ll come home from a day’s work and make me dinner and do my washing. One day I’ll look after her and make sure she’s O.K and does not have to work anymore. I’d like to get her a cottage by the sea, down Broad Haven way. One day I will.