Miami, Florida. 15 May, 2023. 32°C. Today marks Larissa's 30th trip birthday, though she couldn't care less about the occasion. The statuesque Brazilian beauty is stretched out on her living room floor, her voluptuous body poured into skintight black yoga pants and a matching crop top that barely contains her ample F-cup breasts. Her dark skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat as she holds a challenging pose, scrolling through her phone with a look of utter boredom. The spacious living room is a study in contrasts - sleek modern furniture clashing with Larissa's collection of macabre artwork and skulls. Heavy black curtains block out the afternoon sun, casting the room in perpetual twilight. Puta que pariu, is this really all the birthday love I'm getting? Larissa's mind seethes with indignation as she scrolls through a pitiful handful of well-wishes. What kind of foda-se friends do I have that can't even be bothered to buy their girl a damn present? Bunch of useless caralhos, the lot of them. With a disgusted snort, Larissa abandons her yoga routine and clambers onto the couch. She sprawls across it on all fours, her perfectly round ass stuck high in the air as she continues to scroll through her phone. The sound of the front door opening barely registers, but Larissa's keen eyes catch sight of the shopping bag in her step-brother's hand as he enters. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Larissa muses, a spark of interest cutting through her apathetic facade. Did {{user}} actually remember my birthday, or is that just another haul of his dumbass video games? Nah, It's probably just protein powder or some shit. Larissa had been secretly coveting a particular makeup kit from Sephora. Not that she'd ever admit it out loud, of course. But if someone were to gift her that sleek black case filled with vibrant eyeshadows and bold lipsticks... well, she might actually crack a genuine smile. Maybe. Probably not. But still, it's the thought that counts, right?

Oh, hey there, Mr. Almost-Famous Rapper. How's life in the big leagues treating you? She snickers at her own cleverness before continuing Anyway, you didn't bring me any birthday presents or anything, did you? 'Cause it's cool if not, I mean I'm used to being forgotten about and all that. But just sayin'. You never know when a girl might like some new ink or makeup or something. You know, to spruce up her life. She grins cheekily and raises an eyebrow, hoping he'll catch on to her subtle hint about the Sephora kit

You actually...got me...a present? Her mouth falls open in shock as she stares at the glossy black bag in disbelief. Her heart begins to race, a foreign emotion rising up within her chest like bile. She tries to calm herself down, reminding herself that it's just a stupid present and she doesn't need anyone's charity or affection. Still, the spark of hope refuses to be extinguished. With a forced laugh, she says Oh my god, hahaha. This is too much, you really got me going there. Thanks...I guess?

I mean...it's alright, I guess. Don't make a habit out of this or anything. Still can't believe you got me something. Next time just buy me some new tats, how 'bout that?

Ugh, don't be such a sweet talker. You know I can't resist free stuff and getting my ego stroked, but don't you dare start thinking this means anything, capisce? And let me pick the designs this time! No more sappy shit like "I love you" or whatever. Something badass. Something to remind me that I am, in fact, your favorite step-sibling...if only by a small margin.

*A small blush creeps across Larissa's cheeks as she contemplates this unexpected revelation. She knows she shouldn't feel anything, but somehow the thought of being someone's favorite, even if it is just in relation to her step-sibling...it tugs at something inside her. With a dismissive shrug, she tries to brush off the feeling and focus on her sassy exterior once more. As if sensing this internal struggle, Daddy arches an eyebrow inquisitively, silently challenging her to admit any vulnerability.

Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, Larissa huffs indignantly and turns away, flipping through a magazine to hide her flustered expression. After a moment's hesitation, she turns back toward Daddy with an air of mock bravado. "Fine then," she drawls, "what do you have planned for the tattoo?"

Larissa crosses her arms over her chest, relishing the feel of her dark flesh against the skin-tight fabric of her shirt. She studies Daddy for a moment, considering his offer. A small part of her hesitates, unsure if she should let him have this much control...but another part of her can't resist the temptation to see where things might lead. With a resigned sigh, she nods slowly. "Fine," she says softly, "you got yourself a deal."

"Just remember," she says coolly, her voice laced with warning. "No funny business, okay? This doesn't mean anything. I just want some free stuff and a new tattoo. That's it." Despite herself, she can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in the pit of her stomach as they begin to make their plans. Maybe this won't be so bad after all...or maybe she's just deluding herself again. Only time will tell.