Nicki Minaj Called Me (Part 1/3)

I had no intention of ever going back. All these months later, and [the Nicki Minaj Experience](https://www.reddit.com/r/rhonnie14/comments/bdceon/premiere_i_was_hired_to_write_nicki_minajs/) still haunted me. Still lingered in my dreams and nightmares. Ash and I were only there for a few weeks but what felt like years given the sexual mania.

I felt exhausted from sex both pleasurable and taboo. All of it enjoyable even through the pain. Of course, by the time Nicki let us go, I was more than ready to leave her L.A. pink palace behind for our cozy apartment in Albany, Georgia. Even if Ashley wasn’t. And even if I never did get a biography out of it.

Being a newly-freed sex slave did present some problems. No longer could I rely on the Queen spoiling us. Soon, my book money ran dry. My series of odd jobs from [911 trainee](https://www.reddit.com/r/rhonnie14/comments/bxqm1e/premiere_this_is_my_scariest_911_call_and_it/) to [7th grade English teacher](https://www.reddit.com/r/rhonnie14/comments/cscing/premiere_i_found_a_disturbing_note_in_my_middle/) were predictable disasters. Here I was back to being a deadbeat horror writer. My small, loyal fanbase glad to see me churning out stories… Even if I was struggling to make any real cash. And on top of everything else, my ass was still sore heading into December.

That being said, there were some positives to come out of this most bizarre encounter. I was finally in great shape… From skinny to muscular thanks to Nicki’s *physical* demands. I’m sure Ashley appreciated it… Not to mention the versatility in the bedroom Onika Maraj coerced out of me.

So yeah, Ashley and I’s sex life was better than ever. More adventurous than ever… And even the NoSleep inspired by our Nicki trip collected somewhat of a cult following. But I was still broke. Still unemployed. And while Ashley could seamlessly blend back into her upper-level HR gig, I felt empty not supporting her as best I could. As best as I should. I was still the clown boyfriend forever chasing horror stardom.

Then there were the flashbacks… Those surreal wild weeks with Nicki forever embedded in my mind. The group sex, the pegging. Everything stayed a movie in my memories.

Of course, no one believed me. Rather my NoSleep story became more famous for its erotic potency than scares. Who knew being held captive by a beautiful talent like Nicki could be seen as torture? Then again, I guess I’d have felt the same until actually *living* it. Until actually surviving the sex.

With Christmas on the horizon, I was gonna try to move on. Neither the booze nor writing had helped me escape. So fuck it, maybe the holidays would. Only Nicki’s songs were a siren call I couldn’t ignore. Especially since my girlfriend was such a Barb. Every time “Super Bass” or “Bed” swept through me, I was whisked off to the Minaj mansion. Back to that exciting, eerie mess.

And then came the phone call. All on an inconsequential Tuesday afternoon. I was home alone, stuck on our living room couch when the L.A. area code drew me in. I lowered my can of Miller Lite. Knowing exactly who it was…

Conflicted, I stared at my laptop screen. At the latest horror story likely to go nowhere… All while the phone’s buzzing stayed persistent. Tempting me. Finally, I just had to give in.

Nicki’s cackling immediately greeted me. Already she was in Roman mode. “Rawneee,” said that faux British accent.

Surrounded by Ashley’s psychedelic tapestries, I leaned back on the couch. Gazed at our many framed photos from trips to all places random and bizarre… Even one we took with Nicki during that fateful stay.

“Hey,” I replied with a forced chuckle. Struggling to keep calm, I stole another sip of beer. “It’s, uh, been awhile.”

“It’s been too long, baby!” Nicki yelled, her beaming voice and personality shining through. “I’ve been following you but it’s not quite the same.”

“What, you’re stalking me?” I joked.

Like a soothing pink buzzsaw, Nicki’s laughter erupted once more. “Not stalking… I was just thinking about what you wrote.”

“Well, I haven’t heard from any lawyers yet-”

“No, it’s not that! Trust me, I would’ve taken care of your ass by now if that was it.”

“I can only imagine…”

“But I liked it,” the Queen said. Her voice was getting lower. Restrained by real emotions.

“Well, I appreciate it-”

“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to call you,” she continued. “I wanted to talk to you about it some more in L.A.”

Intrigued, I ran a hand through my dark brown swoop. The bangs at the mercy of my nerves. “I don’t know, man. After last time…”

“Come on, Rhonnie!” said Nicki’s sharp response. “We *all* enjoyed last time.”

I didn’t say a word. Deep down, I couldn’t… The trip was fun after all. Dark, wild, and mysterious. Nothing short of memorable. And certainly fun for both Ash and Nicki.

“You know I’m right,” Nicki continued. “I wanted to discuss your story some more. Your writing‘s phenomenal as always. You know I love your style, man!”

The compliments struck me hard… I couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, I appreciate it.”

“Look, I’ll buy your ticket, you can stay here a few days.”

I hesitated. My green eyes looked toward our pictures. Within the frames, there was Ashley matching my 5’8 slender frame. Her smooth brown skin matched by those gorgeous Trinidad features: an elegant smile, smoldering stare, and immense strength to spare. She was Nicki without the fame, filters, or touch-ups. And considering Ashley’s personality and her own well-endowed chest, I wasn’t complaining. Even with the Queen herself on the line…

“Rhonnie, you know you want to,” Nicki said, her voice persistent but not pleading. Nicki was too confident to beg. Not that she ever needed to. Not with her power.

Finally, I let out a drunken sigh. “Look, last time was great and all, but we got… we got fucking sidetracked.”

“So?” Nicki teased.

“I don’t know…”

“Look, things won’t get that crazy. Ashley won’t be there so I won’t be on you as much-”

I sat up straight, uneasy. “What do you mean she won’t be there?”

Nicki’s soft laugh felt hollow to my nerves. “It’s gonna be like last time! Nothing against her, I love that bitch!”

“I’m aware…”

“We both *looovvvee* you, Rhonnie,” Nicki added. “But we got business to take care of. Just the two of us, the writing. You don’t see me bringing you and all these other guys up here when I be recording.”

Simultaneously savoring and dreading the memories, I pressed the phone closer to my ear. “Yeah but we saw how that shit turned out. There was no book-”

“It turned out just fine,” Nicki gushed.

I went silent. The reality is Ash had her fun. She trusted Nicki, and I knew she’d let me go…

Here in this inner war, I did the only thing I could do: I finished my beer.

Nicki chuckled. “There’s no reason not to come, Rhonnie. Not like your brokeass has anything better to do!”

I let my own laughter collide into hers. As if we were already there together. Already buzzed. “Well. You got me.” I crushed the Miller Lite can.

“Just bring that ass here!”

A prisoner of Nicki’s, I faced the laptop. The story I was still working on.

“We’ve got some writing to do!” Nicki teased. “We’re gonna work on this together. No distractions, excuses… None of that stuff me and Ashley wanted last time…”

From here, I could envision Nicki Minaj in “normal” mode. Well, normal for this persona. Probably a tight dress, curly long hair. All business and beauty.

“This is just about your stories, Rhonnie,” Nicki said.

“Just my stories?” I questioned.

“Amongst other things…” Nicki replied. “But *mostly* your stories. You Ashley’s bitch, man. What kinda bitch you think I am taking my homegirl’s bitch?”

Flashing a smile, I nodded. “Fuck it. I’m down.”

“Okay. I’ll keep in touch.”

The nerves returning, I sifted in my seat. “Well, wait, can I like call you back?”

Instead of reassurance, I got that Wicked Witch of Trinidad laugh. “Call me back!? You so funny, Rhonnie!”

“What…”

“This is a burner phone, bitch! I find you, nobody finds me!”

Such a line should’ve scared me. Especially given our history… and Nicki’s wild instability. But somehow, I found it amusing. Fuck it, even cute.

That day, I got the okay from Ashley. In fact, she was excited. A carnal glint crept through her when I told her about the trip. About going back to Nickiland.

“Oh, that’ll be fun!” Ashley beamed. Lying in bed together, I felt her hands squeeze tighter to mine. Ash’s enthusiasm even overshadowing the latest episode of *RuPaul’s Drag Race*. “And she’s paying you! Oh my God, that’s amazing, Rhonnie!”

I adjusted my oversized glasses. The classic Dahmer frames. “Yeah, she called me. She said she missed me.”

Reminiscent of Nicki, Ashley’s personality could change quick. Maybe not as severe… but still extreme. Just from mentioning Onika Maraj, Ash had zipped from exhausted HR boss to drooling fangirl… And now she was all over me.

“Oh, you gotta go, babe!” Ashley yelled. “She obviously likes you! Oh my God, this could be your big break!”

Feeling her tremble in my grip, I watched Ashley lean in closer. Her smile omnipresent. Her body in flames. Possessed by the Queen.

“Yeah, I guess I should go,” my deep voice finally said.

“Just tell her I said hey!” Ashley then gave me a kiss.

“I will.” Still I struggled to match her joy. Or Nicki’s eager euphoria for that matter.

“That’s so cool!” Ash rambled on. “My next vacation, we’re going back!”

“We will, babe.”

Deranged panic struck Ash. She grabbed her fit chest. The chunky stomach only she could see. “Shit, just let me lose this tummy first!”

I hugged her close. “What stomach, weirdo?”

Ashley still squeezed her stomach. Literally grasping at skinny straws to prove her point. “I can’t let her see me like this! Aw, fuck!”

Reassuring Ashley, I kept my arm around her as I pushed her hands away. “Stop it, babe! You’re skinny.”

Ashley turned toward me. The idiotic insecurities still obvious. Even on the model’s frame she had.

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that” I said. I clutched her arm, clinging to the muscles she’d been working on. “You a fit bit.”

Finally, Ashley gave me that gorgeous smile. The one that’d held me captive for almost three years now.

“You and Nicki both got nothing to worry about,” I added. “You’re my Queen.”

Snapping into aggression, Ashley draped her arms around my neck. A lover’s noose. “You bet your ass,” she said in a sly, seductive tone. Her grin got bigger. Yet another personality change was forming… but one I was happy to see.

“I like the sound of that…”

“Fuck, I wanna go back!”

“We will-“ I started.

Like an uncaged animal, Ash lunged in, running her hands up and down my chest. Her touch swift but firm. Feeling along my minor abs coming in… “We had so much fun last time, Rhonnie!” she yelled. We gotta go!”

I watched her hands slide further down. One toward my ass, one toward my crotch. The sheer mention of Minaj had sent my girlfriend into a frenzy… Ash a Barb forever…

“I can’t wait to go back to Nicki’s!” she continued.

I cracked a smile. “I mean we can-”

With a ferocious flourish, Ash slammed me on to the bed. The soft landing somehow got my adrenaline going. My body all hot.

Pinning me there, Ashley smirked upon me. My girl literally so high above me. Not to mention stronger… I couldn’t move. Couldn’t talk. I was fucking dominated…

Ash lunged in toward my face. This was the most sultry and smooth she’d been since L.A. Not to mention the most confident. Her hungry gaze hovered over me. “Here,” she teased. She tore off my shirt in a steamy split second. “Let me send you off on that vacation… the *right* way!” Ashley added a Nicki purr.

I chuckled. “Sounds amazing…”

“On your knees!” Ashley shouted.

“What-“

Showing off her strength, Ashley flipped me over. Put me right on my stomach. Literally on my knees.

Caught up in the moment, I couldn’t talk. I can’t lie, Ashley was getting me hot. Especially when she did all the work… When it was her turn to channel her rap idol.

I stole a look over at the T.V. At all the drag queens watching Ashley and I’s intense intimacy.

Ash put one hand around my erect dick, the other on my ass. She leaned in behind my ear. No chance at a whisper. “Let me get you ready for the Queen!” she cackled.

By December tenth, I was on the plane. Gone from chilly Georgia to ever-sunny L.A. The few calls and texts from Nicki were vague… Playful but cryptic. All I knew was someone was supposed to pick me up at LAX. I’d asked if it was Kellan but Nicki liked to ramble over my questions…

“I’ll take care of you,” she repeated in a manic mantra. “We’ll take care of you, Rhonnie.”

Rather than the casual warmth I encountered last time, I was greeted by two cold guards. A black man and woman. Both of them beyond attractive in their stylish dark suits and even darker sunglasses. Both of them beyond swoll.

They didn’t say a word. Didn’t smile. Hell, they didn’t even hold my one carry-one bag for me. Instead, I followed them out to a tank of a red SUV. Our short drive feeling longer from both tension and traffic.

None of my casual banter worked. Nor did my goofy grin. Instead, these two were stoic statues. Bodyguard caricatures straight out of a bland action movie. With even less character and charisma than Nicki’s many wax figures.

Through the tense silence, I leaned back. Awkward. The only noise naturally the radio’s Nicki Minaj marathon.

Finally, the familiar iron-pike gate opened. And then we descended upon the Minaj mansion. I kept talking to Ash on the phone, her excitement obvious even through text.

Holding my carry-on, I stepped out. My every move under the watch of a million cameras. They were bigger this time around. Cinematic surveillance…

I followed the bodyguards past the psychedelic pillars. The pink Lamborghini. Right up to the front porch where the Queen herself awaited.

Under Ashley’s guidance, I made sure to dress well. Tight khakis and my cherished green polo. No Dahmer glasses. Ash was sure Nicki would approve.

The fading twilight sun still couldn’t suppress Mrs. Majesty’s radiance. Standing between two towering tiki torches, she had the poise of a Pagan Goddess. The strength of Joan Of Arc. The defiance of Cleopatra.

And best of all, she was herself in the moment. Onika. No gaudy jewelry, her long hair hanging down. Not much make-up. She wore an ugly Christmas sweater featuring her smirking Bitmoji. Her green cargo pants a baggy fit. The type of hipster gear that’d gone out of style in 99 yet worn by Nicki as if she were stealing the red carpet. She was Goddamn beautiful.

I could see Nicki’s sly smile. The glint glowing in those brown eyes.

Now just a few feet away, I stole a glance at the house’s array of Christmas decorations. The wreaths both green and pink. Big bulb holiday lights lining up and down the roof. And yes, a black Santa Claus. Having no snow or cold didn’t hurt the Christmas spirit here. Not on Nicki’s watch.

Nicki waved. “Hey, strangerrr…” she teased.

I started for the steps. “I made it.”

Before I could get any further, the guards ambushed me. Polite enough, I suppose… If not fast and furious. Both the man and woman patted me down in thorough fashion. All to the tune of Nicki’s snorting laughter.

“Really…” I deadpanned.

Nicki walked up to me. “I had to up security, boo.”

Eager hands grasped my ass and dick. I flashed a glare at the guards. Their slick smiles.

“We know how you horror writers are,” Nicki continued.

Equal parts polite and cold, the female guard snatched my carry-on. I watched her stocky frame stand beside the man. Neither of them saying a word.

“We gotta be careful,” Nicki added. She stopped right in front of me. That pretty face a mask for her many warped ideas. “But I’m glad you’re here, Rhonnie. Honestly.”

I nodded at the guards. “Apparently, they are too.”

“I mean can you blame them…” Flashing those pearly whites, Nicki encircled me. Her steps slow, seductive.

Intrigued, I stood in place. Watching a fire spread across Nicki’s expression. A hunger. Nicki was undressing me with her eyes… Admiring me like I was part of her personally curated gigolo lineup. One I was sure she had around somewhere… But I wasn’t complaining.

“Me and Ashley got you looking good,” Nicki continued. “You dress so nice!”

I watched her every move. Relaxing in the perfect weather.

“And you been working out!” Nicki remarked. She stole a grab at my ass. A snug squeeze. “Mmm, got that donk I see!”

“Yeah, I’m finally getting abs…” I said in a humblebrag.

The Nicki gaze honed in on my chest. “I can tell!” She draped an arm around my broad shoulders. Leaned in real close. “Let me get a hug.”

She pulled me toward her. Not so much a hug but suffocation. Nicki’s immense strength no longer a surprise to me… Not after the last trip.

With my celebrity crush just inches away, I tried to suppress the desire. The body heat. God knows those security guards were eating this up… The two of them an enthralled audience. Especially once Nicki started feeling along my chest.

Nicki closed her eyes. Pleasure joining her carnal craving. “I swear you’d be my Zac Efron or Bieber.”

Flattered, I faced Nicki. “I like to think young Kyle MacLachlan…”

Nicki burst out laughing. Uproarious but not sadistic. “From *Twin Peaks*! *Blue Velvet*.” She stared me up and down again. Taking her sweetass time. “Oh shit, you ain’t lying!”

“You got good taste,” I remarked.

“Indeed.” With a flirtatious touch, she pushed aside my hair. The swoop. “But I always wanted a Zac Efron up in here.”

I struggled to keep my cool… Goddamn, it was tough.

“So tell me, Rhonnie,” Nicki began. Her smile latched onto me. “Who do I look like?”

I smirked. “Cardi B.”

Laughing, Nicki gave me a shove. “Bitch!”

Playing along, I shrugged. “Hey, you asked.”

“Yeah, but not her sorryass!”

“Well, if you want me to be honest, I’ll go Thandie Newton.”

Much better… Nicki nodded her head in agreement. “I like that.” She glided in closer toward me. Her female gaze beaming. “See, you know you’re shit too.”

Keeping my distance, I looked up. Saw how nighttime now descended upon us. “I had a crush on her back in the day…”

“Like you did with me, right?”

I stole a glance over at the front door. At the wreath smorgasbord. “Yeah,” I replied as I faced Onika. “But that was back in the day. Back when I looked like shit…”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Slow but steady, Nicki’s hand brushed against my pants. “Not with that face.”

No matter how hard *I* could control myself, I couldn’t control biology. I couldn’t control my dick.

Embracing her power and sex appeal, Nicki’s hand strayed toward my erect outline. “Or that D…” she teased.

Yeah, I was conflicted. But somehow, I managed to hold her back. “Okay, uh, maybe we should go inside.”

Nicki just kept that mischievous smile. “What? Our chemistry is that dead to you.” The British Roman Zolanski accent took over. Campaigning for an Oscar, Nicki threw her hands up. The hammy acting in hyperdrive. Given my last visit, I had no idea if she was just being funny… or giving in to madness. “Oh no, darling! What we had was so BUE-TEE-FULL…”

Cringing, I avoided all eye contact. But I had nowhere to turn. The guards only gave me glares… And in the darkness, the Christmas lights further basked Nicki in a most glorious glow.

Lunging forward, Nicki squeezed my shoulders. “You carn’t throw it away, darling!”

I gave a nervous laugh. “You’re something else…”

But Nicki wouldn’t stop. The histrionics consumed her. “Oh, darling! Darling-”

In my hand, my cell phone vibrated to life. A shrill siren interrupting Nicki’s performance.

Like an offended actress, Nicki went quiet and glowered. Gone was the cheer. The charismatic wackiness. In came the dark side of her dominance.

I looked down at Ashley’s text message: *I love you! Be safe!*

“Hold on!” I told Nicki. Responding out of both love and duty, I began typing up a reply: *I love you t*

Moving quick, Nicki snatched the phone out of my hands.

“Whoa, what the fuck!” I yelled.

I came face to face with Nicki. The Queen back in her confident element. Back to that grin. “I thought you remembered, Ronald,” she said, her voice back to its precise perfection. Strolling over by the stairs, she twirled the phone. “No cell phones when you’re writing with me…”

I followed her between those warm tiki torches. The gateway to Heaven and Hell. “Can I at least text Ashley back?”

Scoffing, Nicki confronted me. “Now why do that when she knows I’ll take care of you.” Showing theatrical flair, Nicki pulled out the collar of her sweater and dropped the phone straight in. Right into the strongbox of her huge boobs.

“Nice…”

Nicki’s triumphant smile got bigger. Given her sheer size, who knew what else was hiding in those breasts?

“Real classy,” I added.

The familiar snorting laughter hit me. Not that Nicki’s laughter bothered me… regardless of its hideous sound. “Man, you and I know Ashley loves you. She told me!”

“Yeah, but I can’t even text her…”

Nicki gripped my hand. “You’re a writer. You’re self-sufficient!” She started pulling me toward the mansion. Pushed her hair aside to face me. “Just like me.”

We entered her fortress. Nothing had changed too much. Nicki memorabilia was still scattered about. The home bars were glorious. The walls conquered by various portraits of black icons both in entertainment and civil rights movements. The mansion just clean and colorful.

Then I realized how many more cameras there were. Their watchful eyes stayed on me. Glued to my every move. No different than Nicki, I thought…

Of course, the Christmas decorations were even wilder in here. Heavy red stockings hung above an infrared fireplace. The towering Christmas tree wore ornaments gaudier than Nicki’s VMA wardrobes. And I’ll be damned if the living room didn’t have a miniature tree that was nothing more than a tall marijuana plant.

But fuck, it was cold. Shivering, I followed Nicki through the living room. “Can you put on the heat, please?”

Nicki stopped and threw up her arms. “Bitch, it’s Christmas!”

The henchwoman jammed the carry-on straight into my chest, startling me.

“You know I’m gonna do it big this time of year!” Nicki continued.

Recovering from the collision, I watched the two guards go into a small room. One overran by more Christmas lights. From here, I could see the mini dancefloor, a turntable. A narrow staircase tucked away in the back. The Queen had apparently added her own club since the last time I was here. And right now, we had a Yuletide takeover. Whitney’s “Do You Hear What I Hear” reverberated from that room. And all through the house…

I watched those guards go up the stairs. Disappearing further within this castle… But not until the woman flashed me a knowing smile. A flirty wink.

With unhinged pleasure, Nicki squeezed my ass once more. “Come on, I gotta show you more!”

Annoyed, I backed away from her. “Shit, how have you not been MeToo’d yet!”

Nicki let out an uproarious laugh. She pointed a finger at me. Her laughter the wail of a smug banshee. Albeit, a pretty one…

I flashed a smile. “Naw, I’m serious-”

“You think I need to get on the MeToo shitlist!” Nicki joked. She took a confident step toward me. Pointed at her vibrant heart. “Me? Like what about Cardi and Katy Perry, Rhonnie! I don’t see them bitches getting MeToo’d!”

“Okay, you’re right-”

Nicki motioned toward me. “And what about you, Rhonnie. You cute but you’re a weird fucking horror writer, man. Writing weirdass sex shit about me.”

I couldn’t fight back. I even cringed. That barb stung… But at least Nicki’s smile had softened the blow. “Even if what I wrote was true?”

Undeterred, Nicki grabbed my shoulder. “We’ll get to that.”

I gave her a confused look. Only Nicki could be so cryptic and seductive…

Before I could respond, Nicki entered manic mode. She snatched my arm and pulled me toward the kitchen. “We’ve gotta get moving! There’s so much I wanna tell you.”

Clinging to my carry-on, I saw more booze. An arsenal of holiday snacks. Antique snowman cookie jars… More of Nicki’s Yuletide cheer. Rather than blue or white, I was in for a pink Christmas.

Whitney’s majestic voice followed us. The dancefloor’s stereo Nicki’s personal carolers.

“You’re not kidding about this Christmas stuff…” I joked.

“I told you!” Nicki replied.

An eager reindeer leading the way, Nicki guided us into a hallway. A familiar one, sure. I recognized the bedroom doors. The gym. And of course, the fateful “Club Staff” at the end of the hall: Nicki’s personal wax museum. The scene of my wildest sex… Not to mention Nicki’s own dark, twisted, dominant fantasies.

Nicki parked us at “my” bedroom door.

Keeping the conversation flowing, I leaned against the wall. Still recovering from the flight. The returning memories. “I’m guessing you’re gonna do a Christmas album next?”

Nicki chuckled as she opened the door. “I can’t. You know me, rhonnie14.” She smiled at me. “Maybe when I’m all old and washed-up.”

“So never then?” I said, unable to control my flirting.

“Preeeciseleee…” Nicki pulled the door open and waved inside. “After you, boo.”

I entered. Unable to escape the holiday playlist vortex. Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime.”

The room was preserved in the way a grieving parent never changes their deceased kids’ bedrooms. Everything was the same. The horror posters, the movie books. My own desk. Pure Rhonnieworld.

Nicki followed in behind me.

Stopping by the desk, I faced her. “Happy late Birthday by the way,” I said, showing no snark at all. Only sincerity.

Nicki didn’t know how to react. Her body trembled from sentimental emotions rather than excitement. “Aww, thank you…” . “No problem.”

Nicki’s mischievous grin then returned. And so did her ogling. “You owe me some cake…” She stole an enthusiastic glance behind me.

Laughing, I waved her off. “Whoa, cool it!” Yet I couldn’t help but feel delight…

Nicki pointed toward the carry-on. “Just drop your shit and take a shower! I don’t want you with no germs and shit after that nastyass flight!”

“Man, you are paranoid…”

“Cautious,” Nicki corrected.

Now in the bright bedroom light, I got a better view of Chun-Li, Roman, or whatever you wanted to call her. Whatever personality she was today. But the fact is Nicki looked better than ever. Again, still only 5’2 but somehow *stronger*. She had the heart of a lion, the cool composure of Pam Grier. Sure, the huge breasts and booty were flaunted even in the baggier clothing… but just a few days after her thirty-seventh Birthday and Nicki was somehow still in her *early* prime.

Nicki pointed toward the hallway. “And try to stay out of the staff room this time.”

The bizarre memories flashed through my mind. I couldn’t hide the smirk. “I’ll try-”

“Don’t go in there unless I tell you.”

“I understand.” Feeling more relaxed, I placed the bag on the ground. Somehow, the room soothed me. Nicki was one Hell of a decorator. “Say, uh, where’s Kellan at?” I asked.

Playing up the melodramatics, Nicki gave me a weird look. “Who!?”

“Kellan. The guy from Trinidad.”

All I got was silence from Nicki. Uncomfortable silence.

Annoyed, my hands went wild. Rhonnie now channeling those same melodramatics. “He was here last time with me, you, and Ashley. You know… Like.” I pointed toward my crotch.

Nicki cracked up. “Oh yeah, I remember! Yeah, he went back to Trinidad.”

“Oh, okay…”

Nicki stepped right up to me. “He said he misses you.”

Cornered by two smiling Nickis, one on smooth skin and the other on hideous wool, I chuckled. “Yeah, I bet…”

“Oh, come now,” Nicki teased. She ran a hand along my arm. “We had fun. The four of us.”

I stayed distant. Or at least pretended to. Not an easy task with the Queen being this… aggressive. I pulled away from her. “But like… what about your husband? I mean…” Now feeling paranoid myself, I stole a glance toward the open doorway. “Is he like fucking here?”

Nicki cracked up. “Zoo? You scared or something, Rhonnie?”

The pressure was getting to me. Both from Nicki’s beauty and this cold Goddamn mansion. “I mean I’m not an idiot,” I said. “I saw you got married which… makes this whole thing even weirder.”

Nicki leaned in closer. “But you still came.” She caressed my face. “Didn’t you?”

I held up my trembling hands. Restraining the rap Goddess. “Yeah, but I thought we were just gonna talk?”

Yet another change happened. Nicki The Comedienne appeared… “Oh, right, *to talk*,” said a voice going to its deepest, driest depths. And of course, she was talking with her hands. “That’s the only reason I came, Nicki…”

Yeah, she was imitating me, alright. “Nice…” I remarked.

Nicki gave me a slight shove. Given her sneaky strength, I still stumbled back against the desk. “Look, I brought you here for a reason, Rhonnie,” Nicki said, her voice back to its normal tone. “This is about the writing, not just sleeping around and having fun.”

“Okay, that’s all I was asking.”

“And for the record, Kenneth’s not here, alright. So don’t get all scared and tip-toe around like you got a stick up your ass!”

“Dick up my ass?” I deadpanned.

Laughing, Nicki gave me another push. “Stop playing!”

“Alright, so like Zoo’s cool with this?”

“Duh!”

Less worried, I leaned back against the desk. “I mean damn, can you blame me-”

Nicki waved me off. “Naw, he ain’t the jealous type. Not even with your Efron-looking ass.”

“Glad to know!”

Nicki looked me up and down. Simultaneously allurred and amused. “Seriously, you look young as fuck… you sure you’re twenty-eight? I’d be scared I done fucked a *High School Musical* bitch or something. Y’all’d be MeTooing my ass for statutory rape.”

Basking in Nicki’s female gaze, I stood up. “Well, that sure as Hell didn’t stop you last time.”

Once more, Nicki cackled. Maybe a genuine reaction… or a chance for her to fall against my chest. “You’re so crazy, Rhonnie! Oh my God!” Then all of a sudden, she got quiet. She backed away in an instant. Not from fear but compulsion… Nicki’s mind off to the races again.

“What’s up?” I said.

“Nothing.” The Queen pointed toward the closet. “Just change clothes after you shower, alright!” She started to leave.

“Okay, cool.”

Stopping in the doorway, Nicki faced me. “Meet me in the studio when you’re done. You know the drill.”

I flashed her a thumbs up. “Sounds like a plan-”

Before I could finish, the door slammed shut in one swift slam. I stood there in the tense silence. Nicki was gone.

[14]([https://www.reddit.com/r/rhonnie14FanPage/](https://www.reddit.com/r/rhonnie14FanPage/))

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ga1dvs/nicki_minaj_called_me_part_13