Tickle Attack!

Before Sam could respond, they saw Kristen exit with clothes slung over her arm. Cassidy acted. "Just follow my lead," she told Sam, flashing her a cheeky grin before dashing forward. Sam followed.

"Girls," Kristen smiled, oblivious to the threat fast approaching. "I know you're-oof"

Cassidy tackled her in a move that would've made a defense man proud, sending women and clothing sprawling over the soft-carpeted floor. "Tickle attack!" Cassidy declared, digging her fingers into Kristen's exposed armpits. With nothing in between her weak points and Cassidy's dexterous hands, it wasn't an even contest.

And while Cassidy attacked, Sam played defense, grabbing hold of Kristen's right hand while Cassidy's diapered bottom squashed her left. It was a two-pronged **** that left their foster mother in tears, literally.

"N-No, no tickles-Cass, I-Sam!? Not you, too!" Kristen laughed as Cassidy subjected her to a furious ****, unable to resist as she writhed and wriggled on the ground until-

psssshhhhhhhhhhhh

Both Sam and Cassidy glanced at Kristen's bottom, the loud, unmistakable sound of her bladder giving way as their foster mother let out a contented sigh. Sam watched in fascination as the diaper swelled, once unblemished pink grew discolored, and the eggs on the front fractured and cracked until a new nest of chicks emerged.

Sam was entranced. Here was an authority figure, someone older than her… having an accident. Kristen's diaper was soaked, a swollen bulk that covered her crotch and pushed against her toned thighs. For a moment, she wasn't Ms. Weaver or Mom. Right now, Kristen was… she was like them, someone who couldn't control her bladder, someone who needed a diaper, someone like a baby. It gave her the best kind of chills.

"Heh, I guess I really needed to go..."

House-Rule #16: Adults sometimes need protection too

"You really needed to pee, didn't you, Mom?" Cassidy echoed, giggling as she stood with all the grace of a victor lording over the vanquished. Sam followed her lead, freeing Kristen's hand.

"Alright, you lil' stinkers," Kristen said, pushing herself up. There were faint hints of scarlet on her cheeks, but there was still a smile on her face. "You've had your fun. Now it's time to get you dressed, and," she wagged her finger at both of them, "just for that, you don't get to pick your clothes."

Cassidy flashed Sam a bright smile. "Totally worth it."

Babies weren't allowed to dress themselves, leaving both of them reduced to moving arms and legs and bottoms as Kristen methodically swamped them out of their pajamas.

Sam had gotten a pink t-shirt with the words "MOMMIES' PRINCESS" printed boldly on the front and a denim skirt with her name on the hem, it was as close to normal as she could in this place, she supposed, though one could easily see her night-time diaper peeking out from beneath her skirt.

Cassidy got it worse in terms of infantile dress. Her onesie was replaced by a white camisole and a pair of pink shortalls that only served to accentuate her padded underwear. With her pacifier in her mouth and attached to her outfit via a clip-on strap, she looked every bit like the adult toddler that she... was? Played as?

Sam wasn't quite sure. Cassidy was smart. In the few days she'd been with the Weavers, she seemed sharp as a knife but also totally at ease with her role in the family. Was it all an act, a persona, or did she really see herself as the Weaver's baby girl?

And if Cassidy could, could she?

"Alright, girls," Kristen instructed, having changed into a blouse and skirt herself, albeit one that just about covered her soggy diaper. "It's time for breakfast."

Unable to carry both of them herself, Kristen settled for leading them by the hand to the kitchen where Sam's other foster mother was making breakfast.