By George Private
Wen Zhao, or Emelie as she called herself to foreigners, was a pretty 23-year old Chinese girl who had started working as a guide for foreign tourists in Beijing, after having studied English and gone through a tourist education.
Now, she was working for a small company picking up foreign tourists from hotels and taking them to various tourist attractions. At first, she had only accompanied a more experienced guide as an assistant, and then doing shorter tours on her own. Today was the first time she was conducting a longer trip alone. She was a bit tense beforehand, but also looking forward to the experience, not knowing that it would lead to a very embarrassing situation for her.
Wen Zhao had to get up very early to eat breakfast and then take the bus and metro from the suburb she lived with her parents into central Beijing. There, she would meet with the driver of the minibus they would use during the day. Together, they would drive around to various hotels to pick up the tourists that had signed up for the trip, often just a couple or a family at each place. Typically, this would take about an hour, sometimes a bit more if the morning traffic was heavy or the hotels were located far apart, before everybody had been gathered and the actual tour could start. Today’s tour would go to the Forbidden City, i.e. the old imperial palace in the centre of Beijing, followed by the Summer Palace at the northwestern outskirts of the city. Then they would have a rather late lunch at a restaurant, visit a tea shop, and finish at the Temple of Heaven.
Wen Zhao had been to the toilet when she got up. She then drank a couple of cups of tea for breakfast, and filled a water bottle in case the day would be hot and she would get thirsty. The bus and metro journey from the suburb to the downtown place where she met the minibus driver took about an hour and a half. The roundtrip to the different hotels took a bit more than an hour. Towards the end, she started to feel a bit uneasy, as she could feel her bladder starting to fill up with the morning tea. She wondered whether she ought to go into the lobby of one of the hotels and quickly use a toilet there before continuing. But at each place, the tourists were already waiting outside when the bus arrived, and since they were already running a bit late, she did not want to slow down the trip even more by going inside to use the toilet. Or maybe she was simply a bit too shy to excuse herself and leave the group for such a private reason.
The last place to pick up any tourists was a small hostel inside one of the narrow “hutongs”, the traditional old alleys with their low buildings. The minibus could not drive into the narrow alley, but had to stop at the main street, while Wen Zhao walked into the alley to pick up the tourists at the hostel. On her way there, she passed one of the old public toilets still used by some of the local inhabitants of the hutong that did not have any toilet of their own. She stopped outside it for a moment, thinking whether she should take the chance now when she was alone to go inside and use it to relieve herself. Somewhat hesitating, she peeked through the door into the women’s side, and saw a row of traditional “squatting” toilet bowls in the floor. But there were no divisions between the toilet bowls, let alone any cubicles with doors to lock, everything had to be done in the open, in front of other visitors. Even if the toilet was empty right now, with her being the only person there, somebody may turn up while she was using it, and Wen Zhao was rather pee shy and did not like the idea. And although this side was only for girls and women, if somebody opened the door while she was there, there would be almost free sight for any passers-by in the alley into the toilet, including boys and men.
So she felt too shy to use this very public toilet, and instead hurried to pick up the last tourists that were waiting outside the hostel a bit further down the alley. Perhaps, though, this would be a decision she would regret later on during the day!
Half an hour later, just before 9 o’clock when the gates were going to open, they arrived at the entrance of the Forbidden City. There was a crowd of people queuing for tickets or waiting to get in. Wen Zhao had to get their tickets from the group ticket office. By now, she had almost forgotten her need to go to the toilet. She told the group to wait and stay together while she picked up the tickets, but also pointed to where the toilets were, in case someone else needed to go. A few of the ladies took the chance to go there, although the toilets were pretty crowded, while Wen Zhao went to get the tickets. A few minutes later she was back, but they had to wait a few minutes extra until everybody was back from their toilet visit, before they could enter.
Inside the gates, Wen Zhao gathered the group in front of a map of the Forbidden City, where she could point and tell about the outline and history of the Imperial Palace. Then they proceeded slowly through the palace complex, stopping here and there as Wen Zhao had something to tell or show, or to look through the open doors into the various buildings (which they were not allowed to enter) and take photos.
Now and then, Wen Zhao could feel the pressure in her bladder, especially when she was walking down some stairs, but it was not that strong, and for long periods she did not think about it. Instead she was concentrating on keeping the group together, not losing anyone among the crowds, and what to tell at the various stops, not to forget anything important. A couple of times, they passed signs showing the way to public toilets somewhere on the outskirts of the palace grounds, but Wen Zhao neglected them, both for her own sake and for her tourist group. She did not want them to get further delayed by leaving the main route through the area, she had given those who needed a chance to go while she picked up the tickets, and she herself would have to wait until later.
After about an hour and a half, they reached the exit at the other end of the Forbidden City. Here, the driver was supposed to pick them up with the minibus, but he had had to park at some distance away. Wen Zhao tried to call him on her mobile, but since he did not answer, she had to leave the group and go to the bus parking to find him and the bus. Again, she told the group to wait, and to stay together and not get lost. There were some stands where they could buy souvenirs and refreshments, and she also pointed to the public toilets on the other side of the street, if someone wanted to go.
In fact, by now she wanted to go quite badly, but she could see that there was a long line of tourists queuing on the ladies side. Also, from a previous visit, she knew this was a rather dirty toilet, and although there were some divisions between the squatting toilet holes here, giving a little more privacy than in the “hutong toilet”, there were no proper walls and no doors to close. So rather than going there together with some of the members of her group, she felt she would have to wait until they got to the Summer Palace, where she knew there would be better toilet facilities that she could use, while she left the group to stroll around in the park on their own for some time. So while several of both the men and women in the group made use of this toilet facility, she instead went to search for the bus.
It took some minutes, but eventually she found the minibus and the driver, and they drove to the exit area to pick up the rest of the group. Again, they had to wait a few extra minutes, as some of the tourists in the group had to finish their business, either at the refreshment and souvenir stands, or at the toilet, before everybody was back and they could leave. As they were waiting, Wen Zhao felt that she really also should go to the toilet now when she had the chance, but, in a combination of shyness and unwillingness to delay the tour further, she decided that she would have to wait and hold out until they got to the Summer Palace, even though she could feel her bladder being almost full by now and needing to get emptied soon, and she knew it would be at least 45 minutes more before they got there.
The bus trip became quite painful for Wen Zhao. The bus was shaking and her bladder was paining, and instead of telling background stories about the Summer Palace or the places they passed, she mostly sat quite, concentrating on holding her bladder and counting the minutes left until they would reach the Summer Palace.
Unfortunately for Wen Zhao, they ran into a traffic jam, although it was no longer rush hour traffic. The bus was totally stuck for some minutes, and then moved very slowly. Wen Zhao started squirming and fidgeting in her seat. She asked the driver if there was some other route he could take to get faster to the Summer Palace, but he shook his head. “Are you all right?” he asked after some time, having noticed how uneasy she seemed to be, bending and bouncing in her seat. “I really have to pee very badly” she whispered back with a very embarrassed look on her face. “Do you know if there is some public toilet close to here on the way where we could stop?” she then asked in a low voice. Again, he shook his head. Wen Zhao sighed and groaned.
Eventually, the traffic started to move, and after one hour and 15 minutes, they reached the parking at the entrance to the Summer Palace where they had to get off. By now, the pressure in Wen Zhao’s bladder was so big that she almost did not want to leave her seat, stand up and get out of the bus, for fear that she would pee her trousers if she did so. But eventually, she composed herself, and followed the others out of the bus without any accident happening.
Now, she was almost there. But she knew that here, the closest public toilet that she could use was inside the entrance gates. So first she had to get the entrance tickets for the group, hand them out to everybody, give a short introduction about the Summer Palace and tell them that they could go inside and look around on their own for an hour, and instruct them carefully where and when to meet again. Then, as they had all gone through the gates and the group had started to disperse, she would finally have the chance to visit the toilets inside the gates and empty her aching bladder. At least she knew that this was a clean and modern toilet, with proper cubicles with doors that you could close and lock to give you proper privacy.
So again, she told the group to wait and stay together, as she went to the ticket office to get their tickets. There was a line, not too long, but for Wen Zhao it felt like it took forever. Her bladder was almost overflowing by now, and she had to cross her legs and sometimes bend over while waiting. People were watching her, and noticing. If this at least had been the line to the toilet, not to the ticket counter! She felt a small leak, and yet another leak as she reached the ticket counter and explained what she wanted. Her underpants started to feel really damp.
She hastily paid and picked up the tickets, and somehow managed to get back to the group without any more leakage in her pants. There, she started to distribute the tickets while moving and bouncing back and forth all the time, unable to stand still. While doing this, she tried to explain in a very fast way and with an almost panic-stricken voice what was going to happen, that they should go in and look around on their own, and then they would meet at this place in an hour. She was getting frantic, and could feel more and more leaks, her underpants getting more and more soaked, as she bounced around or bent over in front of the group.
Then, she could not hold it anymore. Her bladder burst and released a torrent of pee that had been held back for so many hours, gushing through her pussy into her underpants and jeans, soaking them completely in the front and along the legs, and forming a growing puddle around her feet. Everybody in the group was staring and gasping. This was by far the most embarrassing moment so far in her life.
Eventually, as she had finished both with her talk and instructions, and with her peeing, the group dispersed and walked through the gates inside the park, showing their tickets. Wen Zhao slowly came after the rest, passed the gate where a guard looked at her and pointed at the puddle she had left behind, before letting her in. She walked over to the toilet building. She had completely emptied her bladder already in front of the group, but somehow needed to clean herself up. But there was no way she could get her pants and underpants dry, and she had no change. She had no idea how she would handle the rest of the tour, with lunch, tea shop visit, and visit to the Temple of Heaven, before finally leaving everybody at their hotels and getting herself home, in her pee-soaked and pee-smelling pants.