surrealexp

Holding logs update:
I haven’t been up to too much since my birthday on June 4th. We ended up doing a holding contest later that night. I absolutely lost it about 40 minutes in as I had been drinking all day. My wife promptly went to the bathroom and returned dressed in some super sexy lingerie. Needless to say we stayed in the bedroom the rest of the night. I decided to take a 28 day break and resume holding after July 4th.
 
Thursday, July 7th, 2022
 
It was another super crazy day at work with no breaks aside from lunch. I had been drinking my usual amounts of water with only peeing before and after work. My bladder was starting to grow day but day it felt. Today felt different though. I was wearing a long, flowy red dress and sandals. The outfit wasn’t pushing on my bladder hardly at all from what I could tell but by lunch I definitely had to go. I only had a few hours left so I wanted to try to make it home. 
 
Quitting time came around and I was absolutely full. I knew I needed to go soon. I debated going before leaving for the day or try to make it another 20 minutes home. I chose the latter and I wish I wouldn’t have. As soon as I sat down in my car it hit like a freight train. All the pee surged and I had to double over and grab myself to attempt to regain control. A good spurt has escaped already. 
 
I said “fuck it I like my car clean.” and sped down to the new car/ receiving lot where I had many sneaky pees before. I drove to furthest point away from people and parked all while fighting back an ocean. I dashed around to the front of my car, hiked my dress as high as I could, and just soaked myself. I didn’t even bother with the panties and they we’re already soaked. 
 
After what felt like an eternity, I stood and surveyed the damage. Just a small wet spot the size of a nickel on the back of the dress. I was safe but barely. The whole way home after that I couldn’t figure out what would’ve caused that to happen like it did. I can usually pee at home, drive to work, work for 8 hours, drive home, and pee again. But I guess today my bladder got the best of me.
 
Saturday, July 23rd, 2022
 
Nothing crazy, I attempted to do this milovana challenge. I think can guess how it ended based upon the rest of my stories haha. (Hopefully the link works)
 
https://milovana.com/webteases/showtease.php?id=57308
 
I haven’t done anything for August yet but I plan to do a hold this weekend! Stay tuned!

I'd have to say complete and total bladder submission is my most extreme fantasy. A girl gives me full control over how much she drinks and when she goes to the bathroom, preferably for a couple of days. I ask her to drink at least 12-24oz an hour, maybe more, and on top of that, we're going to go through all of our normal daily activities -- no sitting around at home in a safe environment. We would run errands, make a trip to the mall, make some long road trips, maybe see a movie or go to dinner. All of this while keeping her as well hydrated as possible and denying trips to the bathroom. She would cutely be very vocal about needing to pee, frequently holding herself in less and less subtle ways, and growing slightly embarrassed as we're out in public together. The day would certainly involve a wetting or two, but also some legitimate trips to the bathroom to keep things interesting. I would want her to wonder whether she'll make it each time she has to pee, always keeping her on the edge of thinking she's going to wet herself.
Second to that, I would say having a girl completely tied with her legs spread and her arms bound behind her while extremely desperate to pee. I'd love to watch the frantic attempts to clench and slow loss of control as her bladder slowly overcomes her ability to hold.
All of this with a consenting girl that's into these sorts of things, of course.
 

I've had this happen a couple times at bars or sporting tailgates. Not men and women simultaneously using the same toilet, but:
Once I was in the men's room in a university building that opened its bathroom for tailgaters. The men's line was moving along quite fast, and the women's line was not moving at all. Two ladies busted in to the men's room and said "we're not gonna make it in the other line" and took over two of the stalls. You could audibly hear that they were not joking about needing to go.
Similar event at a bar, I was using the men's room and a college aged girl came in, somewhat drunk, said there's a long line in the other bathroom, and just popped a squat. The bar was a typical run down college bar, so the stall door didn't really close properly, and she didn't care.

I'd have to say complete and total bladder submission is my most extreme fantasy. A girl gives me full control over how much she drinks and when she goes to the bathroom, preferably for a couple of days. I ask her to drink at least 12-24oz an hour, maybe more, and on top of that, we're going to go through all of our normal daily activities -- no sitting around at home in a safe environment. We would run errands, make a trip to the mall, make some long road trips, maybe see a movie or go to dinner. All of this while keeping her as well hydrated as possible and denying trips to the bathroom. She would cutely be very vocal about needing to pee, frequently holding herself in less and less subtle ways, and growing slightly embarrassed as we're out in public together. The day would certainly involve a wetting or two, but also some legitimate trips to the bathroom to keep things interesting. I would want her to wonder whether she'll make it each time she has to pee, always keeping her on the edge of thinking she's going to wet herself.
Second to that, I would say having a girl completely tied with her legs spread and her arms bound behind her while extremely desperate to pee. I'd love to watch the frantic attempts to clench and slow loss of control as her bladder slowly overcomes her ability to hold.
All of this with a consenting girl that's into these sorts of things, of course.
 

Here's some napkin math:
Assume that the average person has 1 full loss of control accident in their life between the age of 20 and 60. Obviously some people will have many more, some will have 0. Even if most people have 0, a person who has 10 will bring that average up. Probably isn't great info on this anywhere. This is 40 years, which is 350,400 hours. So, on average, a person has one accident per 350,400 hours based on the initial assumption. There are about 4.1 billion people in the world between 20-60, according to a quick Google search. If the assumption is correct, this means, on average, about 11,700 people between 20-60 have a full loss of control accident every hour. Obviously all of this changes heavily based on the initial assumption. You can do the same thing for a wider or narrower age range if you can make a good guess about how many accidents people have during those years.
 

Here's some napkin math:
Assume that the average person has 1 full loss of control accident in their life between the age of 20 and 60. Obviously some people will have many more, some will have 0. Even if most people have 0, a person who has 10 will bring that average up. Probably isn't great info on this anywhere. This is 40 years, which is 350,400 hours. So, on average, a person has one accident per 350,400 hours based on the initial assumption. There are about 4.1 billion people in the world between 20-60, according to a quick Google search. If the assumption is correct, this means, on average, about 11,700 people between 20-60 have a full loss of control accident every hour. Obviously all of this changes heavily based on the initial assumption. You can do the same thing for a wider or narrower age range if you can make a good guess about how many accidents people have during those years.
 

Here's some napkin math:
Assume that the average person has 1 full loss of control accident in their life between the age of 20 and 60. Obviously some people will have many more, some will have 0. Even if most people have 0, a person who has 10 will bring that average up. Probably isn't great info on this anywhere. This is 40 years, which is 350,400 hours. So, on average, a person has one accident per 350,400 hours based on the initial assumption. There are about 4.1 billion people in the world between 20-60, according to a quick Google search. If the assumption is correct, this means, on average, about 11,700 people between 20-60 have a full loss of control accident every hour. Obviously all of this changes heavily based on the initial assumption. You can do the same thing for a wider or narrower age range if you can make a good guess about how many accidents people have during those years.
 

Here's some napkin math:
Assume that the average person has 1 full loss of control accident in their life between the age of 20 and 60. Obviously some people will have many more, some will have 0. Even if most people have 0, a person who has 10 will bring that average up. Probably isn't great info on this anywhere. This is 40 years, which is 350,400 hours. So, on average, a person has one accident per 350,400 hours based on the initial assumption. There are about 4.1 billion people in the world between 20-60, according to a quick Google search. If the assumption is correct, this means, on average, about 11,700 people between 20-60 have a full loss of control accident every hour. Obviously all of this changes heavily based on the initial assumption. You can do the same thing for a wider or narrower age range if you can make a good guess about how many accidents people have during those years.
 

Never heard of mrsflood before but after browsing her manyvids - wow. She might be one of the best amateur producers I've seen. Looks like she really holds to her limit for most or all of her videos.

I havent seen this here yet, really nice vids, some paid vids but only $1, I cant buy them myself
https://www.pornhub.com/model/omo_natalie

This happened in my senior year of high school. I was 18 and about a month away from graduation.
I had a habit of peeing before I left home, and then not going again until the lunch break. Unfortunately (or not?), I also had a long bus ride and drank coffee every morning, so I'd usually have to go pretty bad by the time the break finally happened.
My first couple classes that day were fine. I was feeling an urge to pee by the end of the second one, but nothing more than normal. Then I had history. It was the last class before the break, we had a big test, and we weren't allowed to leave until we finished it. I remember getting to the classroom and thinking I didn't need to go that badly, maybe a 5 on a scale of 1 to 10. Turns out I'd misjudged how much concentrating on a test would affect my desperation.
The teacher handed us all packets of paper and told us to begin. After only a few questions, I was already getting distracted by my bladder. What started as a manageable urge was quickly growing into a definite need. I shifted around a little and squeezed my thighs together, trying to stay focused on the questions.
I continued on through the test, struggling to mentally balance both the test-taking and the pee holding at once. By the time I was halfway done, I was bouncing my leg and squirming in my seat. My desk was in the front row on the right side, only a few feet from the teacher's desk, and I'm sure he could see my desperation. So could anybody else in the room who bothered to pay attention, and my fidgeting was definitely causing a few glances.
Minutes ticked by, and the closer I got to finishing the test, the harder I had to try to keep it in. My legs bounced rapidly and I rocked my hips back and forth, pressing my pussy against the hard plastic chair. I didn't care who saw me at this point; I was just trying not to wet my pants in class. I had to go so badly, it was a full-on emergency. The bell rang then, and I hurriedly finished scribbling down something for the final essay questions. I tossed my things in my bag, wincing at the pressure in my bladder as I stood up, and practically threw my test onto the teacher's desk as I walked quickly out of the room.
The hallway was super busy, and I had to push my way through a maze of people. It was so hard to not shove my hand between my legs. I was about to lose it. The bathroom was close, but there were still so many people in the way, and the crowd wasn't moving fast enough. My desperation surged, and I felt a small jet of pee spurt into my panties. I braced myself for the flood, blushing and squeezing my muscles tight, but I miraculously managed to hang on and reach the bathroom.
A few more drops leaked out as I opened the door, then a few more. By the time I'd rushed into the stall, a slow stream of pee trickled constantly from my pussy. I almost couldn't yank my jeans down fast enough, but I made it, just barely. I peed for what felt like forever. When I examined my clothes, there was a large wet spot on my panties, covering the center of the crotch. My pants were also slightly damp, but not enough to draw any attention. I dried my panties as much as possible and continued with the day.
•   •  🌸  •   •
I also got really desperate and almost peed myself during another test! I'd missed class the day it was given, so I was taking a make-up exam after school a couple days later. It was just me in the middle of a small classroom, with the teacher at the front. I don't remember the subject, but the teacher was a middle aged guy, I didn't know him very well.
I already had to pee pretty bad when I got there. I'm not sure why I didn't go before the test, when my last class got out; maybe I thought it would be quick and I could hang on a little longer. I did my best to focus and answer the questions, but just like the other time, trying to take the test made my desperation worse. Pretty soon I was bouncing and wiggling around at my desk, very aware of my full bladder.
Eventually I was completely bursting. I knew I was about to wet my pants, so I had to sheepishly get up and ask if I could go to the bathroom, visibly squirming as I stood there. The teacher let me go, and I walked down the hall as fast as I could without attracting attention from any people still lingering around. As soon as I got into the bathroom, I grabbed myself tight and starting crossing my legs and bouncing on the spot. Luckily nobody else was there.
I managed to make it and get my pants and panties down in time, but it was a very close call. Going back and finishing the test was a little embarrassing too, since I knew the teacher had seen how bad I had to pee 😳

I have a lot of wetting adventures, but normally once I'm finished for the day, I'm exhausted and it's hard to write them out. But I thought I'd try to write out at least one, while it's a bit fresh in my mind. This happened a little less than a month ago. 
 
I love being controlled and dominated in general. Giving up control means I don’t have to think or make many choices. All the responsibilities of daily life melt away and are replaced with obedience and giving into someone else’s power. Whenever I hold, having someone to help control the hold makes it so much better. The “he” in this story refers to someone who I let control my holds from time to time, through the internet. 
 
The control started with my outfit. My favorite outfit to see get soaked is a pair of light grey leggings (a very popular opinion around here, it seems). But since this was a public desperation day, my dom had mercy on me. On went a warm sweater, a mini black circle skirt, some boots, a long jacket, and a pair of black tights. Underneath were a pair of black panties and a cream and black lacy bra. 
Getting to the point of extreme desperation takes me a few hours. For that reason, I waited until I was at about a 6/10 on the desperation scale to leave the house. On my way out, extra water bottle and red Gatorade in tow, I was told to grab a shot glass. What was that for? Who knows, but I’m obedient, so the shot glass went into my jacket pocket and I was off to the bus stop. 
 
The bus ride was about 30 minutes to the outdoor mall near me. My desperation rose over that time, and each jostle of the bus reminded me of the fact that my bladder was filling up and staying full for as long as today’s challenge lasted. At one point, the bus driver finished his shift, and we all had to wait for the next driver to arrive and start driving again. It took a few extra minutes, but eventually we got going and I made it to my stop 40 minutes later. 
 
My arrival at the mall meant my rules were now in effect. 
The rules were as follows:
1. The most important rule, no leaking. Leaks were unacceptable - I needed to prove I could hold it - and any leak would mean an immediate change into dry clothes to try again.
2. No using my hands to hold. No touching my crotch at all, especially since I’d be in public. Such an action is a clear sign that someone has to pee, and it’s important that I not telegraph my desperation and draw attention to myself. 
3. No crossing my legs. Crossing my legs is something that often prolongs a hold and helps me keep control for longer. And that day was supposed to be a challenge, so “no crossing legs” added to the difficulty.
Rule number one was of utmost importance. The latter two rules could be broken if and only if I was in immediate danger of breaking rule number one. And if I broke rule number one…well, that would be a sign that I’d need to get to a bathroom ASAP. 
 
I also had a few things to purchase that day at the mall: some thigh highs, and a new water bottle. 
 
The only way to get some sort of relief, I was told, was to either a. complete a challenge he assigned to me or b. obtain one of the items from my list. 
 
Heading to the mall at a 6/10 meant that once I arrived, I was already at a 7/10. For me, this means that my need to pee is at the forefront of my mind, but focusing on other things and acting normal is still possible if necessary. Heading into my first clothing store, I assumed it would be easy to hold until I found the socks I was looking for. But as I walked in, the man controlling my hold let me know that I had to get a coffee or tea before starting my search. 
 
Okay, then, coffee shop it was. The mocha warmed my hands - a welcome feature on a cold day. But it was also caffeinated. Caffeine is a bladder irritant and it also just makes me antsy in general. The only times I’ve had a genuine loss of control, either caffeine or alcohol were involved. Since they didn’t allow food or drink in the clothing store (hmmm, seems as though he set me up this way) I had to either finish the full drink quickly before going in, or take my time drinking and let my desperation build. I chose the first option, gulping it down and entering the store. 
 
The caffeine-to-bladder pipeline was shorter than usual. My 7/10 desperation stepped up to an 8/10. Now every other thought in my head was my urgent need to pee. Yes, the store still existed - it was not so urgent that everything else melted away. But the surrounding world blurred and warped along as priority shifted from “look for socks” to “look for a bathroom.” There was no point in looking for a bathroom, however, without looking for my knee highs first. If I asked for any relief before finding the socks, it meant I’d have to complete a challenge. And who knows if that challenge would be a breeze or if it would lead to me helplessly leaking into my tights sooner than assumed. 
 
This store had leggings, tights, and all kinds of socks…except thigh highs. At least, I didn’t think they had them. What was I looking for again? What did I even need these socks for? Again, my thoughts blurred and twisted together, only coming back together to remind me “you need to pee.” Not seeing any thigh highs, I ended up snagging pair of athletic slides I needed. Waiting in line to buy them was challenging, as my bladder was feeling fuller and fuller by the second. The coffee had worked its way through. And the need for relief hit all at once. 
 
I said as much, and he told me that if I needed relief, he would let me have some. I readily agreed, he told me to go to this store's bathroom. The back of the store came into view, the restroom within eyeshot. But a yellow sign hung over the open door, the classic omo trope: Bathroom closed for cleaning. Shit. 
 
Head empty of everything except the tugging need for relief - the store next to this has a bathroom - get there - quick - don’t think - don’t think too hard about it - just rush. 
 
The back of the next store had an elevator leading up to their bathrooms. The elevator creaked as I got in, and the button didn’t respond when pressed at first. I pressed it again, the button lit up, then turned off again. I mashed the button then (everyone does it, admit it, even though it doesn’t make the elevator close any faster). The doors rumbled closed and the "floor up" button still failed me despite pressing it about 20 times in a row. This wasn’t going fast enough, and panic started to course through me. Was there another store nearby? Maybe that would be faster than this somehow. In hindsight, it was stupid to give up on this store’s bathroom when it’s so close. I could’ve taken the stairs. But I was in full stupid mode due to my bulging, weakening bladder. Rational thought went out the window. I pressed the "door open" button, and my stomach dropped when it didn’t light up. Pushed it again - still no response from the button. Nothing was happening, the elevator was not moving. And a vision flashed through my head: myself stuck in there, elevator broken down, wetting myself completely. As quickly as tears started to form and my mind began preparing itself for the ultimate humiliation of standing in a puddle of my own urine, the elevator door suddenly opened again. 
 
The journey to the third store is blocked out of my memory because none of my thoughts were productive or worth remembering. Every cell of my being screamed “Don’t wet yourself! Don’t wet yourself!” over and over as I made my way to this store’s bathrooms. 
 
Two women stood ahead of me in front of 2 all-gender restrooms. One was squirming slightly, while the other showed no obvious signs of desperation. In the wait for the line, it would’ve been socially acceptable to hold a hand to my crotch or cross my legs. But that was against the rules, so I kept my legs slightly parted and tried to act unbothered by the wait. Finally, relief was in my reach as I entered the bathroom. 
 
He told me to take out the shot glass, pull down my tights and underwear, and pee into it. I was to fill the shot glass once, stop the flow completely, then dump it out. Then, do those same actions a second time. If a third shot glass of relief was needed, however, filling it up would come with a price. The first two shot glasses felt so good to let out, that I begged for a third. Knowing that it would cost me and I’d have to do three challenges total, I pissed a third shot glass’ worth and poured it into the toilet. 
 
As a counterpoint to these bits of relief, he assigned 3 challenges to be completed before he'd allow me any more relief. 1. Wash my hands, nice and slow. 2. Go to another store and ask someone where the nearest restroom was 3. Finish the gatorade I’d brought. The first two seemed difficult, but survivable. The third, however, meant drinking a lot more liquid. Was it worth it, just to have filled up that third and final shot glass? Or would I pay for my greed once this liquid hit my bladder? Only time would tell. I washed my hands and the shot glass thoroughly, despite the wave of desperation crashing through my aching bladder. Challenge one completed. Onto the next. 
 
As I walked to another clothing store to search for the thigh highs, the Gatorade slowly dwindled down. Wandering through the store, my search for these socks began to feel a little silly. Do stores even sell thigh highs anymore? But- oh, I found them - the thigh highs! Unfortunately, a huge line of people was between me and the next relief. Waiting behind the 6 or so people ahead felt impossible, especially as a few of them had lengthy returns to process. While checking out, it was the perfect opportunity to ask where the nearest bathroom was. The cashier told me it was outside and to the right, a while down the corridor. Challenge two, completed. 
 
Next, I was told to take a detour to Victoria's Secret and try on some bras. Back at a 9/10 and a nearly empty-gatorade, trying on a few bras and then leaving Victoria’s Secret without a leak would be impossible, even on a non-busy day. The dressing room today had a line several people deep (women wanting to impress their partners for the holidays with sexy lingerie, it seemed). Because I had picked up the pace with the Gatorade and it was now completely gone (Challenge three, done), I was allowed to forfeit this excursion and find the bathroom. The catch? I couldn’t go to the nearest bathroom, and I was not allowed to re-enter a bathroom I had already been in that day. 
 
In my desperate state, the mall felt like a hellish labyrinth, signs pointing in all directions, and the restrooms were not clearly marked due to some construction in the area. Escalators, stairs, long pathways, detours...then a sign in front of the restrooms once they were finally within view: Bathrooms closed due to construction. That day, my luck with bathrooms was laughably bad to the point of seeming surreal. 
 
I then had to go try to find another bathroom. This next one was another single room, with 5 people ahead of me. The woman ahead of me was clearly desperate and people were taking quite a long time. While in the line for the bathroom here, I thought I’d lose control. My brain was no longer processing the details of other peoples’ faces, only their general shapes. Even reading my instructions on the screen was hard, but I was able to understand this much: I was allowed to release one more shot glass worth of relief, but as a consequence, I had to do 1 challenge in the bookstore. My challenge was to ask a staff member where to find a specific book. Out of respect for the bookstore employee not being exposed to my kink, I steeled myself and kept a straight face while asking where I could find it. That challenge was completed successfully. Victorious over every challenge so far, I let my guard down a bit. I was impressed with myself and how much easier it was to hold in public. Then a mocking wave of desperation came over me, so strong it made me whimper. Being in the quiet of the bookstore made the need to go crash even louder inside my head. A stinging sense of panic poked at my bladder. As I slid the book back into its place, a leak escaped into my panties. The wetness remained contained in their gusset, but I confessed to the man controlling my hold that I had broken the first rule. 
 
There was no punishment for this rule break, exactly, but wet panties were still unacceptable to be wearing in public. I was told to change into a dry pair of panties. in the bookstore’s bathroom. Being naked from the waist down, right next to the toilet, was excruciating. But I endured the strain on my bladder and pulled up my tights over my newly-replaced, dry panties. I was also allowed another relief at this time. This didn’t help my desperation at all. I was now so past the edge of “I need to go badly” that a small release couldn’t even touch my desperation. As expected, as a consequence of this (unsatisfying, unhelpful) relief, I had to do another challenge: I had to find dice and cards section on my own, without an employee’s help. Upon arrival at the appropriate section, my brain somehow associated "finding what I was looking for" with "immediate relief, you can pee now!" 
The area between my legs instantly flipped from dry, to a hot wetness as a large leak shot into my panties and dampened my tights. Oh…oh god. My mini skirt was long enough to cover up the effects of this leak, but any more wetness and I was in danger of walking out of this store with darkened tights and tears streaming down my face. 
 
Due to the disaster that was about to ensue, I was told that I was allowed to release my entire bladder in the toilet. But with one final catch: I had to make it to the bathroom all the way down the outdoor corridor at the mall. 
 
There was no time to stop and think, to weigh whether or not I would make it, to ask if I could have one more relief before trying to reach the final bathroom. Instead, I was out of the bookstore before I knew it. The air whipped against me as I speed-walked, making me shiver with cold as well as extreme determination to make it to the bathroom. I was almost there, and then…you know those dreams where you’re trying to run, but it feels like you’re trapped in a thick goo and you can barely move forward? That’s how the world felt - slow motion, like any traction I had against completely soaking myself was slipping from my grasp. My clenching muscles relaxed so subtly that it was practically imperceptible - imperceptible, that is, until a thin stream trickled into my panties and slicked my inner thighs. To my horror, the tiny flow evolved into short, strong gushes. My hand flew to my crotch and I pleaded with my bladder to hold on just a few steps further. My bladder refused, and just continued its gradual leaking. I have no idea who could see me - I wasn’t looking around. I was in a haze and the only way out was to get this leaking to stop. I crossed my legs as tightly as possible, and the flow slowed to a stop. With legs crossed, hand pressing my skirt into my wet crotch, and my thighs wet with my urine, it occurred to me that I was breaking all three rules at once. 
 
I couldn’t afford to waste another second worrying about rules or challenges or obeying, though, without soaking myself where I stood. My vision sharpened in those final feet to the bathroom and beheld a miracle of a sight: a completely empty set of stalls! 
 
The latchkey effect kicked in and the floodgates opened. I locked the stall and sat straight on the toilet with my clothes still on. Pee blasted through my tights and I cried from sheer relief. Technically, I had completed the final challenge, and made it to the end of that day’s games. But my rule-breaking, I’m sure, will not go unpunished. 
Oh, and I forgot to buy a new water bottle that day. Don’t worry - I’ve got one now, all ready to go for my next adventure. 

Doing my first hold… with a vibrator. I’m very excited. 
 
My roommate is out of town for the weekend, and I decided to do my first hold in a while since I have the place to myself. I realized this would be my first hold I do with a vibrator! 

To set the scene, I’m a 20F. The outfit I cleverly chose for tonight was my red checkered onesie, which is quite fitted, underneath a hoodie. This means that in order to use the bathroom I need to take the hoodie off and then the onesie. 
 
I drank about 1.5 big bottles of water and a can of sparkling water and I am REALLY feeling it. 
 
 
Update: I can’t stop squirming and I’m holding my crotch for dear life. 

Yeah, I won't pretend I wouldn't be aroused by it. I'm still going to do what the situation calls for - help the person feel comfortable, whatever. But I can't change the fact that an uncontrollable accident is pretty much the pinnacle of this fetish for me. Obviously it depends a little on circumstance - I'm only turned on when it happens to an adult woman that *should* still have full ability to hold her pee and is an age/body type I'm attracted to - i.e. 18-50 without major medical issues that would cause incontinence.
Being turned on and feeling empathetic/bad for the person are not mutually exclusive, and I can still suppress my arousal and do the right thing for the person.

Almost all of these seem to be true, maximum desperation and loss of control.
My favorites: in the first file in the bunch, a girl holds with her legs up and pussy spread. She leaks A LOT before losing it.
In the third file, a girl loses it while pacing around and standing up, through her hand. Her body language suggests that it's a genuine uncontrollable gush.
I'd pay good money to see uncensored versions of these, shame that'll never happen.

Yeah, this is a huge turnon for me. Not even supplication so much as just hopeful panicked begging to find a bathroom. I really like it when it's to no one particular, almost like a hopeful prayer to whatever deity they believe in: "Please let me make it to a bathroom"
I much prefer this to the people who get agitated/angry/express pain when they're desperate. I feel like I see both a lot in videos. It's much more of a turnon to see urgency, asking, even begging to use the restroom than it is to see someone who seems to genuinely be in pain or in a foul mood.

I saw a comment on vk saying that this girl went by blondepeegirl.
I also think, based on her voice and body, it might be the same girl as this clip:
 

I saw a comment on vk saying that this girl went by blondepeegirl.
I also think, based on her voice and body, it might be the same girl as this clip:
 

I've never wanted to find an original vid more. This is a great clip

The blonde pee pee girl grey leggins in shower.mp4 She is The Blonde Pee Pee girl, but then changed her name to Blondesophie. I used to be subscribed to her page (don't remember if it was onlyfans), but it seems that she closed all her pages several months ago.
The blonde pee pee girl shorts wetting in kitchen.mp4

Recently found this. Not sure of who she is, but hope she has more content
jump rope accident (480p).mp4

Absolutely no one knows, but the older I've gotten, the less I care. And also I feel like my friends these days wouldn't give me much crap for it. I wouldn't go into extensive detail when telling someone, but I'd probably just say something like "yeah, I find girls peeing kinda hot" and leave it at that unless they really asked a lot of questions. Most of my friends these days are pretty open, and even if it wasn't their thing they wouldn't really judge me for it. I've also come to realize that my friends have some of their own weird kinks too, and most people are into something that isn't quite 'normal'.

This is one of my favorite things to think about/ask people when they have a truly involuntary wetting. What are the sensations for you? What's going through your head? Do you feel your stomach drop or a sense of panic? Bladder spasms? Do you feel your holding muscles open and close rapidly until you can't close them again? Steadily increasing spurts? When do you know it's over and you're going to lose it?

We've had similar subjects before, but I don't recall any that really focused on the personal subjective sensations. I'm curious to see how it differs from person to person.

Yeah, I won't pretend I wouldn't be aroused by it. I'm still going to do what the situation calls for - help the person feel comfortable, whatever. But I can't change the fact that an uncontrollable accident is pretty much the pinnacle of this fetish for me. Obviously it depends a little on circumstance - I'm only turned on when it happens to an adult woman that *should* still have full ability to hold her pee and is an age/body type I'm attracted to - i.e. 18-50 without major medical issues that would cause incontinence.
Being turned on and feeling empathetic/bad for the person are not mutually exclusive, and I can still suppress my arousal and do the right thing for the person.

I've tried to articulate this before, but it's difficult for anyone that had never experienced it to fully understand.
As someone with OAB, but who has also played holding games from time to time, I can tell you, with 100% certainty, that there is a massive difference between urgency (medically  speaking) and the feeling of fullness at the end of a long hold. 
If you accept that about 35% of people experience OAB (the current estimate) that means that 65% of people simply can't appreciate the difference.
Urgency,  which is a result of a sudden spasm in the bladder, is like getting punched in the face. A long hold is like being hugged really tightly for a long time. If you have OAB, it's possible to get punched in the face *while* you're being hugged -- and that's not good -- but, honestly, they're usually separate things.
A long hold rarely results in a legit accident. It's painful and uncomfortable but, in my opinion, the only way someone loses control is because they decide that they wound rather wet themselves than continue to experience the pain associated with holding it.  Even as someone with a "weak bladder", I have never been in a situation where I was unable to stop urine from getting out when in a pure hold situation. And, as a said weak bladder person, I would guess that 90% of my have-to-pee-now situations are as a result of a long period where a bathroom is not available.
That said, the 35% that experience OAB symptoms understand that there is a much different experience that flares up from time to time. A 0 to 1000 situation. Seriously,  it's that simple...you go from not feeling much of anything to having a wave pushing on your urethra  in about 60 seconds. It's so different than long holding. Imagine pouring a glass of water onto a sheet of paper. That paper doesn't feel anything until suddenly an entire glass is trying to burst through it.
You can stop that burst a few times. 100%. But, if you can't find a place to release it, eventually it will burst through.
The last time I legit had an accident I remember bending forward and holding as tight as I could, but feeling the pee escape. Even as it was pooling at my feet I was still trying as hard as I could to stop it. It just wasn't going to stop. It was pushing through all my resistance.  
As I said, it's hard to fully explain, but when you experience it...you understand. It's not stoppable.