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Author Topic: Ménage a Trois: Mother and Daughter by Millie Dynamite  (Read 3981 times)

Offline 90lbsofdynamite

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Ménage a Trois: Mother and Daughter by Millie Dynamite
« on: February 12, 2020, 04:42:24 PM »
Ménage a Trois: Mother and Daughter


Millie Dynamite

I remember the first year her mom and I lived together. For her birthday, I bought her a girl’s bike and taught her to ride. At Christmas, I got her a dolly and played tea party with her. All the while, I gave her mom special gifts. You know, jewelry, lovely clothing, or sexy nighties.

The following year, when she turned eight, she seemed disappointed in her birthday present. Likewise, at Christmas, she acted put out with me over the toy’s I got her. The day after Christmas, she told me she wanted to be treated more like mommy.

“And, I want to be your girlfriend as well,” she put her tiny hand on my leg, right next to prick. She looked at me, with her big, green eyes, the lids fluttering, her lips curled into a pout. “Don’t you think I’m sexy?”

Tara had never been sexy in my eyes. After all, she is just a little girl. How she even knew about sexy baffled me. But she bashfully flirted with me, perhaps, imitating something she’d seen her mother do. Or maybe on one of those wilder shows on TV.

From that point on, Tara tempted me with her hot, young body. I know what your thinking, how can an eight-year-old be tempting to an adult. If you have never had an adventurous, precocious child-woman after you, you can’t comprehend my dilemma.

When we were alone, she’d talk to me, and not just any kind of talk, she’d question me about the women I’d known. She would ask me about her mommy, and if she measured up to other women, I had done the nasty thing with me. She’d tilt her head, lean into me, and in a hushed whisper, she asks questions. Then end the conversation with an invitation.

“When it is time for me to learn that stuff, I want you to teach me,” touching my arm, Tara pressed herself into me. “I know you’re the best at the dirty stuff, aren’t you, Thomas?”

With a sly smile on her face, she hopped up, strutting away from me, swishing her ass with each step. At her room, she twisted her head around to me, lifted her skirt up, exposing her little girl panties and her firm little butt for me to see.

“I love you, Thomas.”

Those words bore into my brain, consuming me. I lust after Tara’s small tight body, her unspoiled virgin cunt, I want to take her innocence and use her for my pleasure. To possess Tara, her heart, her mind, her soul, and own that child-woman. She has the body of a child, the alure of a woman, exuding all that animal need.

When I first met Tara’s mother, Bobbie Jo, I sensed her brokenness. I like broken bitches, hungry for attention. The kind that has been abused. Those lost bitches, that bounce from one abusive relationship to the next one. A week after I moved into BJ’s house, I established my dominance. I knew I needed to set her boundaries and make it clear, she belonged to me.

The third night, a Wednesday, she called from her work and asked me to watch Tara till she got home. She wanted dinner with her girlfriend from work. I said sure, added don’t be too late. Knowing full well, no matter what time she got home, for me, it was too late.

She came into the house at 8:05. She took a few faltering steps, smiled at me, and her daughter, who sat on my lap. I gave her a hard, cold look, and watched the color drained from her face. I could smell her fear.

“Tara, sweetheart, you go to your room. Your Mommy and I have to discuss adult things.”

Tara swished out of the room. But being a curious seven-year-old, she came right back, hiding behind the potted palm tree in the living room. Squatting behind the pot, she peered at us, she too knew what her mother knew, and she wanted to watch it.

Standing, I moved to less than a foot from BJ. I made sure I was close enough for her smell the bourbon breath and feel the anger I projected. She took two steps back, pushing her back to the door. I kept the space between us tight.

“You got off at 4:30,” I thumped her left tit with the forefinger of my right hand. “I told you to be quick about it and get home, didn’t I?” with every word, I emphasize my anger, driving my forefinger into her tit just above the nipple.

“It’s only 8:00.”

Glancing over at the clock, I turned to her, patting her left cheek with two sharp smacks, “It’s now 8:07. You’ve selfishly spent three and a half hours with a friend, leaving your daughter out of your life. I fed her, but you’re supposed to be the one that feeds both of us.”

“I’ll fix your dinner now.”

I smacked her face. I hit her so hard, BJ crashed to the floor. Grabbing her arm, I dragged her to the kitchen, put her over my knee. Pulling Bobbie Jo’s skirt and slip over her hips and yanking her pantyhose and panties from her ass, I whaled on her bare, plump ass cheeks. My open hand struck one, then the other, turning her butt a bright red shade.

“I ate already, I had to cook it, you stupid fucking whore.”

Tucking my arm under her, I picked her up like a sack of potatoes. I carried her back to the living room, dumped her face down on the couch, and mounted her ass. I hammered my cock deep inside her guts, all the while, degrading her.

While fucking her ass, I glanced at the hallway, catching site of little Tara, her thumb in her mouth, sucking like she tried to milk a cock. Her eyes were wide as half dollars, her red curly hair, those big bright green eyes, and wonder with which she watched her mother’s humiliation told me the girl wasn’t any different than her mother.

With that said, I still didn’t view her in a sexual light. I did, however, from that night forward, provide her with corporal punishment when the mood would rise in me. I’d spank her bare bottom and get a boner, then I hate fuck, Tara’s cum catching mother.

She became quite the little scapegrace. I enjoyed the temptress’s attentions. That is not to say that Tara wasn’t cautious. She didn’t show her ass or twirl her hair and bat her eyes when her mother was around, far from it. Bobbie Jo was already jealous of her daughter and my attention toward her. I spanked her in front of the child often, bare-assed, with hand or belt, humiliated her in front of her child.

Then I’d take the whore to our room and fuck the shit out of her. I noticed, quite often, Tara sitting in the dark hallway, her thumb in her mouth, watching us fuck. I knew she wanted it before she started flirting.

Once the siren began to sing, I realized how sweet a fuck she could be. In my own way, as perverse as it was, I loved her. I could tell both the woman and the child-woman loved me. On New Year's Eve, after fucking the shit out of BJ, I went to Tara’s room.

With tenderness, I roused her from her sleep. Her sleepy eyes looked up to me, her mouth opened, and she let out a small gasp. I put my finger to her mouth and shushed her. Pulling the covers from her body, I kissed her mouth. We embarked for a few moments.

As I undressed her, I kissed her face, flat chest, her lovely small neck, and whispered into her ear. Kissed, hugged, pinched, and bit her body, her tiny hard nipples, the flat areolas, the tight tummy, at last settling between her legs. She spread them, like an experienced whore, they parted for me.

Tara cupped her hand over her mouth, stifling her joyful moans and groans. I licked over her sweet little pussy, teased her clit, and tongue fucked that sweet, tight twat. After a bit, I felt her first orgasm rush through her flesh. Her short, hard breathes, the jerking and bucking of her hips, all told me she’d gotten off, and she got off hard.

Standing, I jacked my cock, viewing her immature body to stimulate me. Tara’s eyes, wide with wonder, gawked at my long hard shaft and my hand moving over it. Her tongue darted from her mouth, snaked over her lips, as she writhed on the sheets. Like her body crawled with ants, she could lay still, undulating, Tara thrust her hips. The gooseflesh covered her bare, tight child’s frame.

A think stream burst over her face. I moved down her body, each new spew of seed spread on a different part of her physique. I walked out of the room, without saying a word, she raced to my side. Clutching my big hand with her tiny one, she begged me.

“More, teach me more.”

“Go to the bathroom and clean up,” I pointed to the restroom. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. In time. No, right now, clean up and get your sexy little ass in bed.”

“Okay, Thomas. Sleep tight,” I could hear her disappointment. Even so, she obeyed. I purchased the little bitch that day. I bought her body, mind, and soul. I could do what I wished with the mother or daughter. When I finished with them, Tara would be as broken as her Mother, and Bobbie Jo would be ruined. I had destroyed many a bitch, but never a mother and a daughter.

It became a routine, fuck the mother, once she was asleep, go pleasure the daughter and jack off on her body. What a wonderful habit it was. I felt no guilt, after all the little cad came to me, wishing her ass, biting her lips, or playing with her hair. Yeah, she wanted it, bad. And the child whore wanted it from me.

She further cultivated me by the intensity of our communication. Tara hung on every word I uttered. She bobbed her head three times, as she agreed with something I said. She’d arch her back, mimic my movements, and give me longing gazes at every opportunity.

Billie Jo noticed the behavior, her jealousy flared, she’d get angry with the child. I’d step in, slapping the bitch down, or putting her over my knee. Even so, I’d punish the child often as well. Exposing her bare ass to her mother’s view when I whipped Tara.

I kept the playing field even. Mother and Child were on equal footing. The advantage the mother had; I fucked the shit out of her, and she knew how to take it. Unknown to the mother, I got the daughter off every night as well. Tara jacked me off now, wanting more, so much more of attention.

The bitches competed with one another. The way they dressed, their conversations with me, and how they walked. All designed to gain and hold my attention. Tara became more aggressive, even with her mother watching.

Tara’s flirty glances across the dinner table irked BJ. Likewise, when Bobbie Jo touched my arm and leaned into me, I could see Tara’s temper flaring. She held her tongue, but she developed a distaste for her mother, often being rude to BJ for no apparent reason.

Bobbie Jo’s birthday rolled around, Friday the 21st of January. We had a party for her that night. I bought her some sexy, revealing lingerie, and she opened the package while Tara looked on in wonder. Excusing herself, BJ left Tara and me alone in the living room.

“Why’d you buy her that?” she whined in the most childish way. Her lower lip quivered, and tears threatened to fall. I reached over, ran my hand over her face, clutched her ear, and twisted.

“It’s mommy’s birthday, that’s why. Now you be a good little girl or Thomas won’t make you feel good later tonight.”

“Yes, Thomas.”

Letting go of her ear, I took her arm, twisting it behind her back, I pushed her to the armrest of the couch. Pressing my full weight on her. I pushed her arm up high on her back.

“You know,” I whispered in the harshest tone, “I don’t like it when my sweet little girl, makes me hurt her.”

“Sorry, Thomas.”

“Baby, go to your room, wait until you know mommy and I are fucking. Then come back, hide in our usual place, and watch.”

Bobby Jo returned and showing me her sexy new lingerie. When she realized her daughter was nowhere to be seen, she began the ritual. After an hour of fucking, BJ curled up in my arms, satisfied. I picked her up, carried her past the potted tree, looking down at Tara, I smiled. Then I carried BJ to her room. I laid Bobby Jo on her own bed.

In a matter of a few minutes, Bobby Jo fell into a deep slumber, aided by the shit I had put in her drinks. I called Tara to the room. I had her come and stroke my cock until it grew, ever so hard. I put Tara on the bed next to her mom, kneeling, where she could see what I did.

“Get your clothes off, dear.”

Tara peeled her clothing from her body. Her tiny nipples were rock hard, and gooseflesh covered her skin. Those big green eyes, filled with wonder, love, and adoration shown in the semi dark room. I tore her mother’s silky nightie and panties from her well-developed body.

Comparing the abundant curves of the mother to the juvenile frame of the daughter got my dick rock hard. Never before spending time with Tara, had I appreciated the beauty of a preteen. Just as the first time I beat up a bitch taught me what a turn on abusing someone was, being around this child opened my eyes to the delightful possibilities of fucking one so young would be.

“Do my cock like your mom did,” I knelt on the other side of her mom on the bed. My cock hovered about a foot, Tara’s mom’s ass.

“You mean with my mouth?”

“Of course.”

Grasping the back of her head, taking a handful of her red curls, I guided her mouth to my cock. I put on pressure on her, she stared at it, mouth open, her tongue darting around her lips. Inching forward, she put her lips on the massive helmet of my prick. Her lips stretched around it, I pushed inside a few inches, holding her head in place as she tried to retreat.

“No, no, little girl, you saw how Mommy got her throat fucked. You’re no better than mommy, you asked to be treated like she is treated.”

Thrusting my hips, I shoved my cock to the back of her mouth. She gagged on my cock. I felt her spittle building around me shaft. Tara’s wet, nasty expectorant flooding around my prick felt wonderful.

I pushed in further, still clutching her curly hair I controlled her. Gurgling, sloshing filled the air, as humped her face. Coughing and hacking, thick stream of slobber trickled from her mouth, running down her lips, over her chin. When my balls slapped her chin, I felt the drool run over me.

Tears flood down her cheeks, and I humped her face, just as I did her mothers. Holding her face to my belly, I left my cock down her throat. Squeezing her face into my belly, burying my cock as far down as possible into her throat. I began to train the little bitch her purpose.

Once I fucked her face for a few minutes, I withdrew my cock. A thick rivulet of slaver hung from her mouth, like a tendril spun by spider it sank, finding a resting place on her flat chest. More globs of leaked from her mouth, they hung from cock, finding their way down to her mother’s round ass. I pushed her face to her mother’s brown eye.

“Cover Mommy’s shit-hole with all the spit you can, baby. Go on now, give her big gob there, lube Mommy’s ass for her ass fucking.”

I tell you, Tara looked hot covered in her own slobber. She scrutinized her mom’s little rosebud, as my fat cock head stretched BJ’s sphincter. As my prick invaded Mommy’s tight ass, Bobbie Jo let out this pained groan.

I jabbed inside her. In one hard stab, I put half the length of my cock in the whore. Tara’s eyes widened as I fucked her mother’s ass. Even doped to the gills, Bobbie Jo’s body reacted to the painful invasion. Her body lurched, bucked, her legs kicked the bed. She whimpered, cried, and her hands clutched sheets.

“NO,” she mumbled. “Please, stop.”

“You hurting, mommy.”

“You like that I’m hurting her, don’t you?”

She bobbed her head, “But don’t hurt me that way.”

“Don’t be a bad girl,” I told her.

It took me a good fifteen minutes to get off in BJ’s. When I nutted inside her poop-shoot, the release felt so good. When I pulled it out, the cum, with little flakes of shit and some mixture of blood, ran from her. The spunk, blood, and shit clung on my cock in a light cover. Grabbing Tara’s red locks, I pulled her to my still hard prick.

“Now, sweetheart, clean me up and get off again,” I held her hair in a tight grasp while she squirmed trying to move from me. With my free hand, I smacked her cheek, hard, two times. She cried, fussing about the ‘dirty stuff’ and whacked her again, with even more force.

Her resistance crumbled, and she drooled over my cock as I gouged her throat. I pinched her ass, her child-sized tits, and tiny nipples. I treated her face with hard abuse and a rough fucking. All the while, insulting her, call her names, and telling her how disappointed I was with her. How it upset me, she wasn’t learning what she begged me to teach her.

Humiliating her, abusing her, these old friends had served me well in control of women. I owned these two whores completely. I dumped another large load on Tara’s angelic face, her mother's back, and ass.

“Clean your face, eat it all down, then clean mommy head to toe with your mouth. Sleep with her tonight.”

Tara protested; I smacked her back with my bare hand. She sobbed and set about her choir. I sat in the living room, drinking and smoking, watching some old black and white movie on TV. I was keyed up, I wanted to fuck someone up, but good.

Before dawn, Tara came into the room. The frown on her face. That pouty about to cry expression little girls use to get their way, drew nothing but my own glowering stare. Covering her body by putting her hands over her crotch, the child diverted her eyes from me and whispered something.


“Say it where I can hear you.”

“Sorry,” she repeated louder.

“You know, I don’t think you are, not really. Don’t deprive me of seeing your body, if you are … really … sorry. If you do … actually … love me. Do you love me?”

“I love you. I do, really do love you,” Tara said, moving her hands away from her body where I could drink in her exquisiteness. The sight of her pale flesh, in the flickering blue light from the TV, threatened to reignite my lust.

“Get your ass to bed.”

“Which bed,” she questioned me. I sensed slight defiance in her tone.

In a flash, I stood, grabbed her, yanked her to me, sitting back on the couch, I put her over my knee. I whaled on her small round ass, switching from one side to the other, alternating with each blow. She squealed in pain, I loved the sound of her distress. I didn’t stop thumping her ass until the buried anger subsided. As the anger died out, the lust erupted. My cock grew, it poked her belly as pummeled her butt.

“You hurting me,” she kept screeching.

Plopping her face down on the sofa, I put my cock at her asshole. Driving in the head of my cock. I let it just sit there, the tightness felt glorious. The whole time, with the helmet just inside her, Tara begged me not to put in further.

“Shut the fuck up,” I told her, pinching her small round bum. I thrust inside her another inch, pulled back, and pumped in two more. I fucked her four inches deep till I unloaded inside her.

The rough ass fuck took me a good twenty minutes. Tara’s body wriggled under me as I fucked her, but her protest fell silent. The child resigned herself to her fate. When, at last, I got off, I only pumped in a third as much as before.

I lay on top of her, worn from all the fucking, I rested my weight on her minuscule physique. I could feel her moving under me, trying to get my cock out of her ass.

“Be still, or I’ll get hard again and fuck you more.”

Tara’s movement stopped. I could hear her breathing, shallow, fast, and somewhat furious. The fear oozed from her, much as cum seeped from her ass.

“Can’t … get … breath,” she grunted.

Getting up, I chucked and admired the blistering on her ass.

“Your bed,” I said.

In the following days, I fucked little Tara’s ass deeper until she could take all eight up her shitter without bitching about it. By that time, Bobbi Jo had sussed out the truth. Her daughter belonged to me. I told her I hadn’t fucked, Tara, yet. Not pussy fucked her anyway. Even so, I would, and furthermore, both mother and daughter would accept it.

One day, when Tara was at school, Bobbi Jo expressed her objection to my constant attention to her daughter. She said it would be wrong for me to have sex with her. I sat there, at the kitchen table, calmly listening to her argument. Like she was a real person and not just a cunt with a lovely teensy-weensy daughter.

I smiled at her, nodded my head, and ran my hand over her back. She clutched my other hand with hers, kneading my hand like she made love to it. She smiled.

“You do understand, don’t you?”

Pulling my hand free, I stood, clutched her hair, bashing her face into the table.

“I do understand,” I hissed in her ear. “You’re fucking jealous of her. Do you want me to leave you? I can, you know.”

“Please, no, don’t do that.”

“Then my fucking your daughter is a foregone, fucking, conclusion.”

“If you say so, yeah.”

Still holding her face to the table, her nose bleeding profusely, I pulled her head up, just a little.

“No, you say so. Ask me to fuck your daughter. Tell me you want me to make her mine, to make her a real woman.”

“Please, don’t …”

“Don’t beg me not, rather, beg me to defile her.”

Once we got that all straightened out, I fucked her good. On the way to pick up Tara, I dropped BJ at the hospital to get her nose fixed. I took Tara to the moves we stumbled in around midnight. Tara yawned, and seeing the odd contraption taped to her mother's nose asked about it.

“I fell down,” Bobbi Jo sat on the couch, looking demure. “Would you make a woman out of my daughter?”

“Not yet,” I said.

Friday the 14th, Valentine’s Day, and I had been gone for two days. I’d had a job to do. Once I’d done it, I returned to town. After delivering the proof of death to my employer and satisfied with my compensation, I went and bought the girls their gifts.

I’ve always got a good high after doing a job. There’s nothing to compare to putting down a person, up close and personal. The thrill of the kill is only surpassed by the delight of beating a bitch. The way her soft flesh yields to the hard blow of my fist is something I can’t even explain. The way they beg you to please, please stop.

But this is Valentine’s Day and a day for love. I got Bobbi Jo’s house, parked in the driveway, and sat there smoking a joint. I didn’t go in, not right off, I just got a good buzz. I thought about Tara’s pygmy pussy, how incredibly tight she’d be, how I’d have to pace myself. Only taking four or five inches the first few times.

I never popped a cherry on anyone under sixteen before, and I’m looking at busting one half that age. I’d dreamed about it, fantasized, and even when I put that old fuck out her misery yesterday, I couldn’t get Tara’s runty, doll-like cunt out of my mind.

After quite some time, I picked up the two gifts, made my way to the front door, and knocked. I had told them I’d announce myself with a knock at the door and to expect me at 6:00 sharp. The door creaked open, there Tara stood, in a frilly, radiant pink dress.

“Hello, Thomas. Welcome to your special Valentine event,” she waved her hand toward the dining room.

Her mother stood there, in a sexy black dress, showing me the table. There were stakes, baked potatoes, and several vegetables for me to chose from. We ate our meal in relative silence as an air of anticipation filled the house. The girls kept glancing at their presents. Tara squirmed through the meal. Bobbie Jo had more restrained countenance about her. She glanced at the square wrapped box that held her gift. Dread crept over her.

BJ had realized, I’m not sure when, but she knew she no longer pleased me. She knew she served only two purposes for me. First and perhaps foremost, a body to beat. Second holes to fuck. She realized whatever affections I had were only for Tara.

When she opened the package, she pulled the mug out, viewing the inscription her eyes moistened. You could see her fears confirmed. Her lower lip began to flutter, a few tears trailed down her face.

“Thank you,” she sniffled.

“Read it aloud.”

“Worlds Dumbest Cunt.”

“Your turn,” I handed the other package to Tara.

She tore the ribbon and bow from the package. Ripped the paper off the box. Opening the box, she screamed, “A sexy nighty.”

“You go put it for me, lover,” I glanced to the side at BJ and saw how I shoved a dagger in her heart with both the gift and call her daughter my lover. “No panties,” I told her as she hurried out of the room.

“Come to your mother’s and my room, when you are dressed for me, Baby-Doll.”

Taking the mug from her, I sat on the coffee table. I guided Bobbie Jo up, put her arm in mine, and led her to her bedroom. Turning her to her dressing mirror, I pulled my knife from my coat pocket. The blad flicked out catching the light. I put it down between her legs, standing beside her, I pulled the knife up through her clothing, cutting the dress from her body.

With the black, slinky dress on the floor, BJ stood naked before her mirror. I ran the tip of the blade over her lovely, overripe, flesh, thinking of Tara’s not yet ripe skin.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” her body trembled at my touch. She feared for her life. “Don’t whatever you want to my little girl, but please, please, I beg of you, don’t hurt me.”

“Are you jealous of your daughter?”


“Are you going to kill mommy?”

I looked at the vision of a child-woman. My cock twitched, strained for release. The thin material of Tara’s lingerie hid nothing of Tara’s beautiful form. I drank in every glorious inch.

“Do you want me to?”

“Can I watch?”

A soul mate, I had a soul mate at last.

“Let’s all fuck, first,” I felt BJ’s tension slip from her. I’m sure she thought it all some wild joke.

I can’t tell you how wonder it felt, popping that cherry. Through her tears, blabbering and blubbering, she kept saying, “I love you Thomas.”
« Last Edit: April 01, 2020, 03:07:02 PM by 90lbsofdynamite »
Just 90 lbs of Dynamite Big Bada Boom!!

Offline amandablonde

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Great story that really appealed to me. Merit duly awarded!
accomplice of evil

Offline grendel

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Holy mother fuck.  Literally. 
That last twist caught me totally off guard. 
Well written Dear, that was very, very good work. 
It's what they're FOR! 
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Offline BadJohn
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Re: Ménage a Trois: Mother and Daughter by Millie Dynamite
« Reply #3 on: April 07, 2020, 11:31:38 AM »
Exciting story.

Offline bobbyjoecrossdresser

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Re: Ménage a Trois: Mother and Daughter by Millie Dynamite
« Reply #4 on: July 31, 2020, 04:05:22 PM »
Lovely story, Millie
Boys make the best Girls

Offline amandablonde

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Re: Ménage a Trois: Mother and Daughter by Millie Dynamite
« Reply #5 on: August 01, 2020, 09:04:53 PM »
Its a fantastic story and worthy of another merit from me!
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Offline 90lbsofdynamite

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Re: Ménage a Trois: Mother and Daughter by Millie Dynamite
« Reply #6 on: August 13, 2020, 01:18:05 PM »
Gracious thanks to all of you, amandablonde, grendel, and my favorite cross-dressing half-a-sissy boi BJ. Your kind words of support help me continue with this hobby of mine.
Just 90 lbs of Dynamite Big Bada Boom!!