The Left-Hand Path

Part 7: Sovereignty

Saramai wrapped at Acaciah’s door. “My Lady, the seamstress is here.”

“Bring them in Saramai,” she replied. They fluttered around Acaciah, making last-minute adjustments to her coronation gown. The weighty velvet shimmered like flame and felt decadently soft against her ivory skin. The scarlet gown had a tight bodice and low neckline, trimmed in gold embroidery and fiery opal buttons. Vader entered the chamber and wrapped himself around Acaciah, seizing her lips with his and slipping his hand beneath her bodice. One of the tailors protested the intrusion; Vader waved his hand and he went sprawling across the floor.

The tailor rubbed his sore tailbone and looked at Saramai. DO SOMETHING, he mouthed at her pleadingly.

Saramai looked at her lord and lady and cleared her throat loudly. “Milady, you are not finished dressing, and it is nearly time to address the court! This will not do!”

Reluctantly Vader withdrew his lips from Acaciah’s “Hurry up!” he snapped at the tailor and reached into his pocket. “Close your eyes,” he told her. He placed an opulent choker of diamond and opal around her throat. It wrapped around her throat and a line of diamonds hung down from it, ending in a magnificent opal that winked just above the vee of her cleavage.

“It’s perfect, Anakin!” she exclaimed, and their lips intertwined again.

“She’s ready, m’lord,” the tailor informed them.

“It’s time, my Empress,” Vader broke the kiss and smiled, offering her his arm.

Acaciah raked him with her eyes; he looked splendid in his ceremonial military style tunics of black leather, which accentuated his broad shoulders and tight, muscular build. She took his arm and they headed toward the public throne room. Saramai was clothed in finery herself, her a-line ruby gown, simpler but still reminiscent of her mistress’. She picked up the train of Acaciah’s gown and followed them out.

The court rose and applauded as they entered. “Acting Regents Lord and Lady Vader,” Maximillian Valotte, current president of the Galactic Senate greeted them. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the official ratification of your reign. I am here on behalf of the Senate.”

“We are honored,” Vader intoned, “And we accept the office we are charged with.”

A holy man of Alameen brought forth a brass censer and chalice; he used the censer to sweep incense over the couple. Next, he took the chalice and dipped his finger in it precious oil, marking Vader and Acaciah with his fingerprint. “May the Force be with you always in your reign, Emperor and Empress Vader,” he blessed them.

“May the Force always be with the Empire,” they answered, bowing. The holy man placed crowns atop their heads; Valotte handed Vader the scepter of state and they rose and faced the court. “Citizens of the Empire, honored noblemen and ladies, I give you Emperor Anakin and Empress Acaciah Vader!” The hall broke into thunderous applause. Vader kissed Acaciah’s hand, his azure eyes danced over her, promising her a much more intimate celebration as soon as he could get her alone.

A lavish feast was spread for all attending, flowed by courtiers presenting gifts to the new Imperial couple. Acaciah traveled amidst them making polite conversation; Vader kept a civil façade but he was already bored stiff with the politicking. His eyes roamed over the throng, resting on his bride. Lord Tarkin fawned over Acaciah, he noted, stewing. Tarkin would do well to keep his hands and eyes off of her if he didn’t want to taste crimson lightsaber!’’

“Empress Vader,” Tarkin was saying, “Anything you need, anything at all, my lady, do not hesitate to ask!”

Acaciah regarded him with polite amusement; Tarkin was in his late thirties or early forties, and had a coldly regal bearing. No one, to Acaciah’s mind, could hold a candle to her beloved Anakin and Tarkin ought to know it, if he were capable of seeing past the tip of his own dick! But then, she mused, his interest in me is probably really in undermining or overthrowing our regime; getting laid is just a perk. Aloud she said, “I shall inform you if we have need of your assistance.”

Vader stepped beside her and draped his arm around her waist. *Indeed!* he agreed silently. *But now it is time for us to celebrate in private, mi priana!* his eyes glittered with anticipation.

They bid their adieus and retreated to their private throne room and chambers. Vader pounced on Acaciah as soon as the doors swooshed shut behind them. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Their lips intertwined and Vader cupped her backside in his hands, her gown’s heavy velvet riding up her hips. He broke the kiss, grinning impishly as he realized there was nothing beneath her gown; his fingers snaked deeper to tease her naked sex. Vader sat upon the throne, Acaciah straddling his lap. Impatiently he tore at her gown, unzipping its back. Her breasts sprang free into his eagouthouth and hands; Acaciah squealed in delight and tore at his clothing, unzipping his pants. Vader groaned as she freed his throbbing erection, and gripped it tightly, her thumb swirling over its perfect tip. Vader’s teeth rasped over her aching nipples as his hands journeyed back to her sensitive clit. His nimble fingers worked it and tested her readiness, slipping into her heated entrance, which was wet and ready for him. “Avaina hallah Damina Vader!” he hissed possessively as he pushed his rigid cock into her tight sheath; Acaciah moaned and began crashing down on him furiously. “Mina, Acaciah, você é mea!” Vader declared ecstatically as she rode him.

“Mea t’amae, mea Reighnant! Mìe sera você sempérãs!” she cried, the ancient Sith rolling easily from her lips as her pleasure mounted. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop, Anakin!” she arched her back; Vader fondled her heaving breasts, drawing lusty cries from his paramour.

Acaciah peaked and sank against him, but Vader shook his head. “More!” he ordered; his thumb pressed against the junction of their bodies and stroked Acaciah’s clit. She seized his lips with her own and her hips began to undulate again, and Vader grunted his pleasure, continuing to finger her as she banged down on him. Acaciah gasped and writhed wildly, screaming her pleasure. “Yes, Acaciah! Come, baby, come!” he shouted, his own release coming hard and fast; she shuddered on him again and again and Vader spent his seed inside her, drawing her close. He ran his fingers through her jumbled curls, sensing the tiniest spark of life inside Acaciah, and he glowed with pride. “Acaciah, love, we have a dynasty now!” he said, stroking her belly proudly. “What should we name our son?” he asked.

Acaciah gave him an astonished look; he was so certain! “Ask me tomorrow!” she laughed. “Tonight I want to enjoy the two of us!”

Vader regarded her coolly. “We will have to take care of Tarkin next,” he said, “Or our son will not have an Empire to inherit.”

Acaciah nodded her assent. “We will dispatch him, Anakin; the Force is with us.” They rose; Vader scooped her into his arms and carried her into their bedroom to continue private celebration…