#diarrhoea

Unfortunately it was only getting worse and he knew he’d have to go find Obi wan to help him. Ashoka and her clones were away on the mission so thankfully she wasn’t there to witness what was to come.

He went to Obi wan’s tent and found him talking with Rex outside of it. He cradled his sickly belly and tried to wait for a lull in the conversation to get his Master’s attention.

“Master?” Anakin said weakly.

Obi wan looks at his former padawan and knew immediately what was wrong. Obi wan finished his talk with Rex. Then rushes to Anakin’s side.

“Need to find a spot in the forest for this dear one?” Obi wan asked. Anakin nodded and groaned. “It came out of nowhere this morning I thought it was just some pain that would stop but..” his stomach gurgles and Anakin swallows hard.

Obi wan nodded he was used to his former Padawn’s stomach troubles. They could show up at any time and he’d be miserable for the day. He’d be clingy too but Obi wan didn’t mind.

He placed his hand on Anakin’s back and together the two headed off to a secluded area in the forest. Obi wan knew Anakin hated showing weakness.

“You gonna need a minute? Obi wan asked.

Anakin nodded and moved to a spot out of site of Obi wan. Obi wan stepped away just out of Anakin’s line of site.

Unfortunately he could hear his former Padawan being violently ill and he cringed.

Soon Anakin called out to him and he rushed to his side. His poor brother was getting sick from both ends and he was crying.

Obi wan rarely saw Anakin cry anymore. Unless it was extreme distress. Which I guess being sick like this was enough to warrant the tears.

“Easy does it little one. Just get it out.” Obi wan soothed as he took off his outer robe to shield Anakin in case anyone came looking for them.

“Hurts master I don’t feel good.”

“I know little one. It’s alright.” Obi wan tried to soothe him.

This was more than Anakin’s typical stomach problems. He’d only suffer one symptom or another not both at once. Clearly this was a bug of some kind.

Once Anakin’s body was done purging the sickness. Obi wan lead him to the nearby river to wash himself off.

He noted the sweat and paleness of Anakin and knew he was terribly unwell. He’d need to go back to the Resolute to be treated for whatever was severely ailing him. Which Obi wan knew Anakin would fight him on for sure.

Once Anakin was done he got his robes back on and together the two Jedi went back to camp.

“I think we need to call the Resolute Anakin there’s no way you can stay here and do this campaign. Not in your condition.”

“But master what about you and Ashoka and..” Anakin was cut off by a gag and immediately puking again.

“No way not like this. Dear one I’m sure this is a stomach virus not your normal stomach upset.”

Anakin whined and Obi wan felt his forehead.

Obi wan hummed as Anakin sighed softly at his master’s touch.

“Yeah you’re burning. I’ll send Ashoka back with you as well. She’ll be able to keep an eye on you for me.”

Anakin growled. Obi wan brushed his hair from his face.

“You always manage to catch bugs even in your big age.” Obi Wan said jokingly.

“Master stop I don’t feel good.” Anakin said.

“Right, right. Come on let’s get you to your cot.”

Obi wan helped get his former Padawan comfortable in his tent. He commed Ashoka and her troops who were making their way back to camp.

“Master Kenobi? Is everything alright we are coming back now. No sign of separatists at the moment.” Ashoka said

“We’ve been fine Ashoka but unfortunately Anakin’s taken quite ill. He needs medical attention and rest so I’m calling off the mission for both of you.” He explained

“What what’s wrong? He was fine earlier.” She said.

“Yes but looks can be deceiving young one. Especially when your master is the one known for hating anything medical related.” Obi Wan said

“Right. We are almost back how bad is he? I felt something off in our force bond.” She said.

“He’s alright resting now but I’ve called the resolute and they are on their way. What you felt in your bond was probably when he was getting sick.”

Later on

Soon the resolute arrived and picked up Anakin and Ashoka.

Anakin was immediately whisked away to the medbay.

Ashoka quickly rushed it his quarters to grab the blanket and a plush he slept with. So he’d be more comfortable. Anakin always struggled in the medbay so any items of comfort for him were helpful.

She went inside the medbay greeted Kix.

“How is he?” Ashoka asked.

“Good vitals are improving. He’s asleep but you can go check on him. Let me know when he wakes and if there’s a problem.”

“Ok thank you Kix.”

“No problem commander.”

Ashoka rushed to Anakin’s bedside and got him comfy with his plush bantha and the blanket.

It hurt to see her master all sweaty and sickly. She brushed his curls back from his face.

He stirred and Ashoka withdrew her hand.

He blinked and looked up at her.

“Soka?” He said

“I’m here master. You’re ok.”

“Don’t feel so good.”

“I know master I’ll get Kix ok?”

Anakin nodded.

Later on.

Once Anakin was deemed ok by Kix. Ashoka returned to his bedside.

“You’ll stay here?” Anakin asked weakly.

Ashoka nodded. “Of course master.”

He ate his fiery birthday meal in the silence of his car, willing the phone to buzz with a message from anyone. "This shit is so weird..." he muttered to himself, "No-one forgets my birthday normally. And the fact it's my 21st as well!" Chase scoffed at the phone and took a big chug of cola. He could already feel the bubbles mixing with the food as a low gurgle rumbled through his stomach.

Chase finished off the last of his overstuffed tacos, licking the spicy salsa off his fingers, before starting up the engine and heading home. The drive was about 45 minutes, which is part of the reason he doesn't go to Casa Del Viento often. His belly bubbled and fizzed as he coasted along. Every so often a warm, wet little fart slipped out, silent but deadly, filling the car with the unmistakable sharp tang of cheap tacos and cola. He cracked the window and chuckled to himself, "Damn, maybe I can't handle the spice as much as I used to."

But as the miles ticked by, the gurgles grew louder and more insistent. His stomach clenched suddenly, sending a hot, bloated pressure downward. Another fart escaped, this one louder, brassier. He shifted in the driver’s seat, trying to get comfortable, but the seatbelt pressed right against the swelling tightness in his gut.

“Fuck… maybe those tacos were a mistake,” he grumbled, one hand drifting down to rub his belly in slow circles.

Ten minutes later and Chase's face was flushed scarlet. "God, my stomach really doesn't feel right..." he muttered to himself through gritted teeth as a thin line of sweat coated his eyebrows. His guts grumbled again, forcing yet another wet, sputtering fart.

He was halfway home, but in front of him was a long road with too many traffic lights for peace-of-mind. Another cramp hit, sharper this time, making him lean forward slightly in the seat. “Fuck… fuck, come on, hold it together,” he whispered, one hand pressing firmly against his swollen belly. There was a hot, fiery pressure in his intestines now, and he knew those tacos were gonna be demanding their way out a lot sooner than he'd expected.

Chase swallowed hard, thinking about the mess he was probably gonna make of his toilet at home. "At least I've got the house to myself,” he thought, with another loud, wet fart exploding out uncontrollably. The desperation was setting in for real now: that awful, clenching panic that whispered he might not even make it that far. Red light. He slowed to a stop, thighs squeezed together, praying the light would hurry the hell up.

“Come on… come on, you piece of shit, turn green already,” he muttered under his breath. A deep, liquid groan rumbled from his belly. Immediately after a wet fart blasted out - hot, sputtering, and far too squelchy for comfort. The smell was vicious now, thick and eggy with that unmistakable fiery taco aftermath. He lifted his asscheek slightly as another gust of hot gas ripped out of his bowels. "Fuck, change! Go!"

After what felt like eternity, the light went green. He immediately throttled on the accelerator. "Fuuuckk!" he moaned as he lifted his arse off of the seat and another fart slipped out, "Come on!"

He was, at this point, way over the speed limit. A massive, wet fart exploded out of him as he sped through the next intersection. It was the kind of fart that vibrated against the seat and left no doubt something more than gas had just escaped. One hand flew down between his legs, pressing hard against his twitching hole through his shorts as he clenched it shut with all his glute strength. “Not yet! I'm almost home! Fuck! I don't know if I can hold it!”

Eventually, he pulled into his cul-de-sac, but there was a torrent of diarrhoea sat against the gateway to his nether-region. Every bump in the road made him jolt as the tsunami threatened to break through his sphincter. “Come on… come on, I can make it…” he muttered desperately, voice shaky, another wet fart ripping out.

Chase barely slowed down as he swung into his driveway, the tires kicking up a little gravel. The second he pulled the handbrake up, another brutal cramp slammed into him like a freight train. “Oh fuck- oh fuck!” he moaned desperately, his voice high and broken.

He scrambled out of the car, one hand flying straight back to clamp hard against his ass through his shorts. His legs were shook like jelly beneath him as he scrambled up the driveway. Juicy, splattering bursts rampaged out uncontrollably with every frantic step. “No no no no no! Please not now...” he whimpered, fumbling wildly for his keys in his pocket with his free hand while the other stayed glued to his clenching, twitching hole.

He jammed the key into his front door, sweat pouring down his face. Another wet blast forced its way out, accompanied by a sticky feeling already spreading in his underwear. The door finally clicked open. Chase practically fell inside, hand still clamped desperately against his ass, ready to bolt straight for the bathroom.

"SURPRISE!!!"

The living room lights flipped on. A giant “Happy 21st Chase!” banner was strung across the ceiling. There were a dozen familiar faces of his family and friends, all grinning and holding up drinks and gifts. Their cheers died instantly as they took in the sight of him: red-faced, sweating, bent over with one hand buried between his cheeks.

Then, the dam burst.

His hole gave up with zero warning. A loud, wet squelch exploded out of him as the massive, fiery payload finally burst free. Hot, liquid shit flooded into his shorts instantly, soaking through the fabric in heavy, unstoppable waves. It poured down the back of his legs in thick, chunky rivulets, splattering onto the entryway floor with wet, disgusting plops. The smell hit the room like a nuke, people gagging and looking away in horror.

Chase froze, eyes wide in horror, mouth open in a silent scream. Another heavy gush leaked out, running all the way down to his socks. His shorts were ruined, sagging heavily with the weight of his waste. A final weak fart bubbled through the mess with a sickening squelch.