The Rise of the Matriarchy
♥ ♥ ♥ Long Live the Drag Queen!!! ♥ ♥ ♥
Kroma Basyl sat impatiently at the vanity in his luxurious suite overlooking the Royal Plaza of Ghdar City, while his handmaids (not a maiden among them) busily applied the final touches to his hair and makeup. The Royal Dressmaker, S’Trupaul, hovered over the ensemble making minor adjustments to Madam Kroma’s gown and using an electric cattle prod to motivate any handmaids or cabin boys that weren’t showing the proper urgency while attending to their new Matriarch. All this Royal protocol was new to Ghdar now that the Confederation had been officially dissolved, and S’Trupaul was going to make damn sure the Royal staff, courtiers and populace at large made the cultural transition before the Coronation as if her life depended on it, which it most certainly did.
Noticing her Mistresses ruminating expression and slight frown, S’Trupaul, quickly inquires, “Whatever is troubling you on this most magnificent of occasions Mistress?” Seeing Madam Kroma’s hesitation she quickly adds, “Oh I hope your not thinking about that two timing snake Admiral S’Cipio again!?!? You know you are better off without him.”
Sighing Kroma confides in his Royal Dressmaker, “It’s just that I wish I had someone to share this day of days with. It all seems so hollow without a hunky man lizard at my side”. <sigh>
Consoling her Mistress S’Trupaul says, “Oh dearie, we have been over this a hundred times. You are better off without him. I mean after all, if he were still on Ghdar this day may never have come. He was holding you back, as well as the Gorn people. He wore that god awful tunic for crying out loud, which really didn’t flatter those chicken legs.”
“Oh S’Trupaul, don’t you know that true love is blind, that’s why men feel around so much” reminded Kroma. “I know you are right, it’s just the way he left, with that Romulan tart no less, that has gotten me down. I think I will be taking your advice and drowning my sorrow’s in cabin boys after the ceremony”, as an impetuous smile crept across his face. “I don’t know how I would have got through this without you S’Trupaul, you are too good to me”.
Basking in the glow of her Matriarch, S’Trupaul hastily pokes a handmaid with the cattle prod for good measure, which causes the handmaid to let out a blood curdling shriek before he passed out. Giggling Kroma shoots S’Trupaul a conspiratorial smile as he motions for the Captain of the Guard Commander Kel to remove the unconscious handmaid to the Royal bedchamber, where Kroma would continue the disciplining of the handmaid after the Coronation was over.
Peeking out the drapery covering the entrance to the balcony which over looks the Plaza, S’Trupaul gleefully informs her Mistress of the size of the gathering crowd, “Oh my Mistress, it looks like all of Ghdar has shown up to witness and celebrate your Glorious Coronation”, in toned S’Trupaul acting surprised. She was in fact not surprised at all, as it was by her order that every male resident of Ghdar City was forcefully evicted from his sunning rock and made to gather in the Plaza for the Coronation ceremony, however, that was a little detail S’Trupaul thought better to keep to herself.
Jumping to his feet, and knocking handmaids and cabin boys left and right, Kroma not-so-gingerly runs to the balcony. Blowing past S’Trupaul Kroma throws open wide the drapery and walks out into plain view of the growing crowd. Noticing the crowd’s lack of enthusiastic response to his sudden appearance on the balcony, Kroma begins to frown and turn towards S’Trupaul. S’Trupaul to her credit immediately picks up on Kroma’s displeasure and quickly interjects, “Oh Mistress Kroma, you have to remember just how high up we are, just press that button on the rail to get their attention.”
Noticing the newly installed button on the railing for the first time, Kroma smashes down on it with a meaty paw. Instantly every single Gorn in the Plaza let’s out a sharp cry and falls to his knees in supplication as several hundred joules of plasma based electricity engulfs their testicles. Now fully recovered Kroma gleefully asks aloud, “S’Trupaul can you feel it?”
S’Trupaul blushing, “Oh Mistress you know I had those removed years ago.”
Turning to face S’Trupaul Kroma explains, “Not that silly, I mean the love of my people in the air, CAN YOU FEEL THAT?”
Hastily, “Why of course Mistress, I just didn’t notice as I have become so used to that feeling whenever you walk into the room”, thinking she better change the subject and fast the Dressmaker adds, “Did I mention that the hunky new Andorian Ambassador from the Federation will be joining us for the Coronation?”
Suddenly giddy with joy Kroma asks, “You didn’t already tell him I have agreed to enter their little war with the Romulans have you? I need my leverage, and that one seems a bit butch. I wouldn’t want him to realize I had already committed myself to improving the fashion sensibilities of the alpha quadrant, before I extracted my terms from him” <snickering>
“Of course not Mistress. In fact I have told him quiet the opposite, and insinuated to him that the best way to gain your support would be by appealing to your heart and loins”, giggling.
“Oh S’Trupaul, I may make you Prime Minister yet”, lavishes Kroma. At that, the scheming Dressmaker stifled a grin and kneels humbly, “Your wish is my command, Oh beautiful one. Now let’s get this show on the road”, turning to a handmaid S’Trupaul barks out, “Get the crown ready and show in our distinguished”, glancing to see if Kroma was listening, “and well hung guests from the Federation!”