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Time to go, wallet-hog, we've got a marathon mall conquest to complete and you're the snouty ATM-pig leashed-up to fund it. We've already pre-mapped every boutique to hit: Chanel and Louboutin for me, YSL and Balenciaga for Tiger, then a detour through the sneaker vault because we're gonna just love watching you hyperventilate over the four-figure receipts we blow on the cute footwear we'll totally make you worship once they're worn in and dirty. We'll drag you along two steps behind us in your scruffy budget-store sweats clutching all our designer shopping bags like an obedient pack mule while we snap selfies to journal our luxury lifestyle. Every click of our manicured fingers will mean another demand for the black card you work so hard to keep clear for us to rinse, and today your credit is ours to torch, piggie! A relentless mall-spree - all funded by you! The plan is simple: we float from store to store like findom-brat royalty buying whatever the fuck we like - expect the minimum spend to be at least five grand even before lunch. Your spoiled spend-squad is going to systematically trash your account, piggie, until we decide to take a break - to refuel on your dime in some exclusive brunch café full of instagram princesses just like us!

And you know what's gonna make this spree extra humiliating for you? Every brat in the mall will know exactly what you are - not our boyfriend - not some sugar-daddy - not some rich uncle - but a fucking paypig! We'll walk you past the popular girls gossiping loudly about the pathetic little mall pig who's SO obviously getting bullied and dominated by 2 blonde findom brats... and then right on cue - we'll make you fucking oink! Haha! Oink for the mall-brats piggie! Uh-huh - such a flex for us but SO embarrassing for you! ''Did you hear how we make him oink when we snap our fingers, girls?'' Haha! We'll have so much fun humiliating you for the sales-girls, making sure bystanders know the piglet isn't even allowed to speak human words. Haha! The obvious disrespect we'll show you will be so fucking embarrassing for you, piggie - all the hot girls will know you're being totally rinsed by us and made to squeak out little thank-you oinks too!... because piggies don't talk! The more you squirm and blush and cringe with shame, the louder we'll mock you: ''Aww, does mall-piggy love his findom-bullies?'' we'll shout so all the attention is on you - the loser getting bossed around by 2 hot brats half his fucking age!

By the end of the day you'll be dragging half the mall around in your arms for us, your card will be maxxed out your ego totally destroyed from being forced to oink for the make-up counter Princesses and the lingerie boutique sales-girls while they measure us up for custom sets. The smirks they give you will be fucking mortifying and the customers who giggle at you with their boyfriends will be so utterly embarrassing for you - but you'll do whatever the fuck we say. We'll yank you into La Perla, shove you onto a velvet ottoman, and demand you snort oinky approvals while we model the prettiest bras we'll be wearing for our real men tonight. Every store doorway we drag you through becomes another opportunity to make you perform for another audience - more piggy-oinks for cashiers to witness as we give your wallet a public beating it will take months to recover from. When we swing through the food court we'll make you oink for the scraps we slide off our plates. Oink-oink-oinking all day long - no speaking - no human words allowed for you piggy. We'll make you oink so fucking much, by the time we get an uber home you'll actually believe you're a real fucking pig!