The Diary Of Insanity - Part 1 - Sex Stories

The Diary Of Insanity - Part 1

... moments, I placed her water back down on the table and stowed away my Rohypnol. All was well. She returned moments later, to see me twiddling my thumbs. I hoped I didn't look too nervous. I was sweating as she sat. 'Please, God, make her drink' I thought. She did. Thank God for helping me rape, I guess? I'll ask for his forgiveness in the morning. She drained the last dregs of her water and at the same time, unbeknownst to her, she dosed up on roofies. The plan I had hastily put together was put into action. The train took a couple more minutes to arrive in Salisbury. I kept glancing at her. She was showing no signs of anything happening yet. That was good, the last thing I needed was for her to go down on the train. I followed her out onto the platform and through the building. All of that took a few more minutes. I thought I saw her pace slow as we walked, but that could have just been wishful thinking. She seemed unconcerned that I was tailing her all the way to the carpark. But hey, my car was indeed there too. It wasn't so far fetch'd. She was definitely feeling something. She stopped by what was evidently her car, and fumbled around in her bag for keys. A couple of times she let out a slurred curse and ran a hand through her long blonde hair. I went and stood by a car two down from her's. It wasn't mine, but that didn't matter. She was nearly gone. She managed to get her door open, and sat down in the driving seat. Now was my time to interfere, before she drove off and ...

... killed someone. I walked over to where she sat and knocked on the window. She wound it down and gave me a groggy stare. "Whut?" she asked, a definite slur detectable in her question. "Um, high" I said to her. "Do you mind if I borrow your phone? I just need to call my brother, he's in hospital." I was hoping to call on her sympathy with the bit about the hospital. Heck, I don't even have a brother. She nodded, and reached into her bag. It took a few moments for her to find the phone, and when she handed it too me she leant way too far in her seat. I could see beads of sweat forming on her brow. I took the phone and pretended to dial, all the while keeping an eye on her. She had sat back in her seat, and was staring vacantly at the windscreen. I gave up on dialing then, and just stood there waiting for a couple more minutes. She was definitely fucked up now, slipping lower and lower into her seat. I put her phone in my pocket, and returned to where she sat. "Come on, open the door" I said in a soothing voice. She offered no objections, and clumsily fumbled for the door handle. After uncatching it, I pulled open the door and bent low over her. I took her bag, and her keys out of the car. Then gently lifted her out onto the tarmac of the road. Slamming the door shut, and awkwardly locking it with the keys, I began a very nerve racking journey back to my car. It was a couple of rows away, and at any point someone could arrive and see the scene I was presenting. But evidently god ...