Brent grimaced in pain. Pain from a impossibly filled bladder. His sadistic captor, Colonel Ernst Schneller made it impossible for him to relieve himself without his permission. Nude, with only a cock ring to wear, Brett hopped in piss-agony in his dirty cell, waiting for the evil colonel to return and give him the go-ahead to release the river of dark,foamy urine he had stored. During the day, Schneller forced him to exercise and do heavy work in the hot sun, each man drinking 1 90 oz container of dark,=sweet german beer every hour throughout the long, 11 hr day. Schneller would smile and lick his lips after draining each container, knowing that He and Brent would be engaging in long, hot piss drinking later that evening. Brent had never met a man before so thirsty and greedy for hot. rancid piss. Except, that is, for himself. He found himself becoming desperate as the sadistic colonel purposely waited to come to Brent to let him urinate. Almost to the bursting point, he heard the jack-boots coming down the empty cell block. His bladder hurt so badly his eyes were watering with the thought of all the piss he would be giving Schneller and the gallons he would receive from the vicious military man himself. Without a word, Schneller opened the cell, nude, wearing only the dreaded jack-boots, hat and cock-ring Brent was also wearing. Aiming his swollen 14 inch cock at Brents desperate mouth, his own face furrowed with the agony of rivers of sloshing piss being held back, one word was spoken : "Piss" . With a pained moan, Brent began pissing his nearly endless stream of dark, foamy waste, aiming directly for Schneller's open, piss-thirsty mouth. The anxious colonel began rapidly swallowing the foamy brew, the sound of the urgent urine hitting the back of his throat like a fire-hose gone mad. The 1000 ozs of pee held in Brents impossibly stretched bladder couldn't have been held a moment longer, Brent sighing and pissing effortlessly, draining and draining pint, then quart, then gallon of piss rapidly. Bloated with his captor's nectar, the colonel finally began shooting his own pent-up supply of piss after 5 full minutes of drinking Brent's. The delay only served to make his too-long held brew impossibly darker and nastier. Brent marvelled at the pungent, nutty taste as he swallowed rapidly, pissing out with fevered gusto as much liquid as he was taking in. The scene was almost like working in a piss factory, a perfect circular pattern of full force pissing and drinking great sloshy rivers of piss. Each man would turn his head slightly to gulp quick breaths, the piss running down each others chin and chest in the interim, then desperately return to drinking, watching each other as they aimed their fat, swollen tools into each others mouths, each watching the piss foam and froth in the backs of their throats. Each man made animal noises, gutteral responses to the primal need to drink dark urine from each other, unable to express the relief and pleasure they each felt with even simple sentences. Suddenly, a ringing phone in the prison office jolted each man as the burning urine continued to pour into them. The ringing phone only made Colonel Schneller piss even harder, nearly drowning Brent,who in turn increase his stream to cause Schneller to gurgle. Although they had been pissing a full 30 mins or so, they were both no where near empty and wouldn't be so for several hours, since they were drinking almost as much piss as they were putting out. Schneller's eyes rolled up in the back of his head in pure piss pleasure as he continued to drink urgently and piss even more so,ignoring the insistent phone. The floor of the cell was completely wet, nearly an inch of liquid beginning to form. Still, the phone rang on. Finally,realizing someone might come down and stop his piss session, Schneller abruptly pinched his prick, cutting off the mammoth flow with amazing ease, considering he was spurting piss like a cut garden hose. Brent immediately followed suit, breathing heavy, soaking wet and so full of urine he was sure his eyes and skin had turned a dark amber color. He waited, bladder still full and cock at half mast while Schneller barked orders into the phone in dry, cutting German. The conversation lasted only a minute or two, Schneller holding his cock in pisser position the whole time, not concentrating on the conversation, only on the need in his bladder to piss full force in his lovely, urine-making prisoner. Hanging up sharply, Schneller tramped back into the cell, the overflowing urine sloshing down the hall under his boots and wordlessly began pissing like Secretariat after being catheterized. With a sigh, Brent opened his mouth to accept the dark, urgent pee and resumed his own racehorse urination. The piss session last an impossible 4 hours, with both men still holding a gallon or two in their watermelon-sized bladders, ready to resume their piss play the next night.