Becky drove first to a Confederate battlefield. Then she said, ‘I want to take you someplace special for our picnic. A place I go to sometimes to be...alone.’ And she headed out of town. Before he knew it they were traveling down a one-lane, red dirt, country road. When it ended she shut off the car, ‘I hope you don’t mind. It is a Revolutionary battlefield of sorts.’ She opened the car door and got out and Alan followed her with the picnic basket. She led the way down a small path until they. By two in the afternoon Mel was beginning to grow uncomfortable, similar to most shifts here. It was a familiar feeling as the day wore on. She would feel her bladder expanding, filling up like a balloon, pressing against the corset and sending warning signals to her brain. Normally she made it to four and could half march, half run for the staff building at the far side of the site. Today she felt fuller than usual. Maybe she had tightened her corset too much, maybe drunk a little too much. More

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