Write a continuation of the following story. keep the same tone and themes as the original. NAME_1 wears panties instead of diapers in the new story, but is still forced to go potty in them. The story: NAME_1’s New Life “Come here, little one!” NAME_1’s mother called. “Come to Mummy!” NAME_1 immediately got up and abandoned the stuffed animal tea party she’d been forced to play with (“Would you wike some tea, Mister Snuggle-Wuggles?”), hurrying over to her mother as fast she could. Once she reached NAME_2, she felt a sudden weakness in her knees. Against her will, her body did a submissive little curtsey. She lifted up the hem of her silly little frock and flashed her wet, drooping nappy. “Here Mummy,” she said. Normally she was allowed to wear cotton underpants and use the little plastic training potty in the living room (always under supervision), but occasionally her mother changed her into nappies and told her she couldn’t control her bladder. NAME_1 had spent that whole morning dribbling wee-wee into her nappy like a dumb baby. Her mother had told her she couldn’t hold her pee, so she couldn’t. “Good girl,” NAME_2 NAME_3, smirking. Even after months of having her independent daughter back under her thumb, she was still delighted by the sight of the once mature, rebellious young woman reduced to an obedient little lady. She looked especially adorable in her soggy nappes, blushing crimson, her eyes fixed on her sweet little NAME_4. “Come with NAME_5, sweetie. We’re going to your nursery. We need to get you changed into your special dance clothes, okay princess?” “Yes Mummy,” NAME_1 said again, with another curtsey. Then she waddled hurriedly after her mother, wrinkling her nose at the horrible yucky wet feeling of her nappy squishing between her legs. Once they reached her bedroom, her nursery, NAME_1 couldn’t stop herself scrunching up her face in disgust at the baby-pink wallpaper, the large crib, the changing table, and the childish toys that littered the carpet. She didn’t want to pull a face, but Mummy had told her that was how she was to react to things she didn’t like. No more superior sneers. No more cold stares. Just wrinkling her nose and pulling what Mummy called her ‘yucky face’. NAME_2 turned around to her daughter and lifted her frock up and over her head, leaving her bare-chested. NAME_1 tried to cover her breasts, but her mother smacked her hands away. “No baby. There’s no need to cover your boobies. You haven’t got anything Mummy hasn’t seen before.” NAME_1’s lower lip trembled as her hands