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The infant spiders grew fast. Already sizable, they sprouted higher and higher as the days--or what felt like days--dragged on. Before they had been about the size of cantaloupes, small and plump and fat. Now they were bigger than watermelons and still getting bigger.

They were growing more and more daring, more adventurous, as well. Typically they stayed with Aqua within the moist bowl depressed into the earth, which was now overgrown with thin, sticky web; but they started ranging farther and farther from home during the day, exploring for themselves and seeking out new places.

Aqua would have been lying if she had said that she didn't worry for their well-being when they wandered away, but they were creatures, and she had to hope that their instincts would lead them true. At dusk they returned, skittering through the forest, and she would repose in the welcoming cradle of the webs and let them cuddle up to her.

Their fur--or what passed for it on spiders--was not coarse, but soft and silky. When they curled up to her, shifting and clacking, Aqua found herself happily blushing from the attention, happy to be serving as a mother to her children.

Her children? It was weird to think of them that way; after all, she hadn't exactly gotten impregnated this time around, hadn't developed them within her womb. Her belly had swelled with them, but that was because she was serving as an incubator, not because she had conceived them herself. These were pure-blooded Heartless, with none of her genes. Could she really call such things her children? Could she, a glorified incubator, really claim to be their mother?

Those thoughts came and they rolled over her as her young nuzzled up to her, chirruping and fixing their little mouths on her breasts. Master Aqua leaned back then, sighing with maternal bliss as her body nourished her young. The baby spiders would scramble and tussle over the right to nurse, and sometimes Aqua had to gently but firmly pry them free so that the others could have a chance.

As she nurtured the little spiders against her breasts, she reflected back to the way the werewolf pups had abandoned her, how cruel it had seemed. Yet here were more Heartless, not even ones that carried her blood, who were pleasant and kind.

One of the spiders finally broke free from her breasts, little droplets of milk dripping from its mouth. They were plump at the best of times, but now the little thing was positively round-bellied with milk, nice and full of its mother's gift.

Because that's what I am, Aqua thought as she gently cradled the creature against her. It snuffled a few times and drifted to sleep. I didn't conceive them, but I bore them and I'm raising them. I am their mother.

How many young had she borne since her wanderings began? How many new lives had been brought into being ever since she succumbed to her inner horniness that night with the Dark Hide?

Had she realized then just how things would change?

As another tiny mouth affixed itself to her chest and began to drink, she reflected that though there had been twists and turns, unexpected setbacks, in the end she was happy with the choices she made.

Whether by nature through inheriting her temperament, or by nurture, like these spiders she was raising to be soft and kind-hearted, she clung to the hope that she was making changes to the Heartless. Perhaps some day these creatures would escape into the Realm of Light and instead of seeing humans as prey, they would remember the kindness of their mother and act accordingly.

Leaning back, her breasts deliciously sore, her body flushed and bare against the comforting tension of the web, the warm weight of nearly a dozen young huddled around her, Aqua looked up and let herself drift to sleep. She had to believe she was making a difference.

---

The spiders continued growing, and like all of her young, they left. The goodbyes were staggered, and each time they departed the spider in question--they were now as big as dogs--would skitter up to her, nudging and rubbing sadly against her legs and chirring softly in farewell before heading out to stake territory and find claims of their own.

They drifted off one by one over the course of about half a week, and when the last was away, Aqua turned, gave one last lingering look to the web-strewn hollow which had been her home of late--and then, cleansing herself of the sticky webs with magic, she pressed on, returning to her wanderings within the Realm of Darkness.

Where she was going, she couldn't say. All she could do was follow her heart.

---

At some point, weeks--or so she thought--after leaving, she found herself in a new locale: a snowbound mountain crag.

In her wanderings, Aqua had finally been frank and open with herself: she had been on the lookout for a mate. Having resolidified her resolve to continue breeding Heartless in an attempt to change them, she had kept her eyes open for a potential paramour.

But nothing had caught her eye. The Heartless she'd encountered had all been vicious monsters, attempting to steal and take her heart. She'd fought them off one by one, of course; none of them were a match for a Keyblade Master. But she'd learned her lesson from the Werewolf. That had been a violent, brutish hunter, and she'd borne his pups anyway, only for them to take after their father.

Now she knew better. She was willing (perhaps even eager) to breed with Heartless, but only if they seemed on the up-and-up. She could help the better ones pass along their temperaments, and perhaps someday, there would be more kind Heartless than cruel.

But on her climb to the mountain, she hadn't seen anything. Oh, there were plenty of Heartless--but they'd largely thrown themselves at her, furious and predatory. Those who had seen the slaughter hung back, sulking. None of them were good matches.

After she made a camp for the night, she bunkered down, ready to sleep, using fire magic to keep her warm amidst the wintry chill.

She didn't stay down long, however. A shuffling near her campsite woke her up.

Immediately alert and prepared for combat, she summoned her Keyblade and swung about, ready for anything.

But the creature poking through her campsite wasn't interested in fighting. With a low bugle, it bolted away, hiding behind a tree near the edge. Aqua recognized it--it was a deerlike Heartless she had named the "Winterhorn" for their icy antlers. They were small creatures, not reaching an adult like her in height even with their prongs, but they had come at her aggressively in packs.

This creature had no pack, though--and it didn't seem to have that much aggression either. Aqua kept her eye on it, leveling her Keyblade at the creature. But all it did was poke its head shyly out from behind the tree before darting it back in, snuffling.

From what little she could see of the beast, it wasn't like other Winterhorns. It was taller--not bigger, though. It was lanky, all legs and a thin body. It also carried itself with a more submissive demeanor as well.

If the others of its species are aggressive and travel in packs, Aqua mused, then is this one going alone because they bullied it out? Perhaps it isn't as aggressive as they would like?

Wouldn't that be the sort of creature she wouldn't mind mating with?

Lowering her Keyblade--though not banishing it; she wasn't a fool--Aqua cast her voice at the Heartless, trying to sound friendly.

"It's okay, I recognize you mean me no harm. Come on out."

Though she doubted it understood her words, her tone seemed to get her point across--the Winterhorn slowly meandered out from behind the tree, keeping its head down and shuffling nervously though the snow. Without any hint of shame, Aqua immediately glanced at the spot between its legs. Yep, there it was--a modestly furred sheath.

Well, then.

The Heartless gradually made its way closer and closer, and Aqua knelt down and extended a comforting hand. It sank against her outstretched palm with an almost quivering hesitation--then, when it was certain she wouldn't injure it, it pressed close, letter her hold and stroke it.

"My," she murmured, "you have quite the handsome coat." It was true--the legs and faces of Winterhorns were as dark as most other Heartless, but their main body boasted a blanket of soft, warm fur colored a delightful periwinkle.

Kneeling in the snow, feeling the Winterhorn press against her for affection, Aqua spent a few minutes petting and stroking it--and then, deciding that this gentle, solitary creature was the best fit she had found in weeks, she decided to take things to the next step.

She let her hands drift southward and gently stroked its sheath.

The effect was immediate. The Winterhorn bucked and snorted, its eyes wide. It trembled--from what, Aqua couldn't say. Fear? Shock? Uncertainty? Excitement? Arousal? Its gaze met hers, and it didn't run away, so she kept up her attention, stroking it again and again, more and more...

Before long, it was nice and erect.

Aqua rose, feeling suddenly giddy, almost light-headed. Between the time spent nurturing the spiders and then traveling, it had been a while since she'd had a good lay. Her body was screaming out for attention. "Hey," she said, undergoing the by-now-almost-second-nature gestures needed to unwrap herself from all her clothing. "I'm yours."

She was left standing proud and naked in the chilly air, the cold immediately making her tense, her nipples stand on end; her whole body was on edge. But the bite against her flesh was delicious, too, and her loins cried out for more attention. They needed something to bring them warmth.

They needed to be bred.

The Winterhorn seemed amenable, to put it lightly. Still at full mast, the Heartless cantered in excitement, nudging Aqua with its horns. At its urgings, Aqua turned to a nearby fallen tree and then bent over, her ass up high in the air as she took a position not unlike as if she was at a breeding bench.

The Winterhorn trotted up to her and met her gaze. It looked uncertain, so Aqua flashed it her friendliest smile. Looking at ease, the Winterhorn touched its icy horns down to her wrists and--

Aqua gasped. There was a flash of magic, and suddenly her wrists were fixed to the tree in cuffs of hard, clear ice. She was good and stuck.

The Winterhorn stood still, apparently waiting if she was okay, and Aqua's momentary shock quickly morphed into excitement. "Naughty boy," she said giddily. She twisted her wrists in the ice, and was unable to free them--unless she summoned fire magic (but why would she want to?) she wasn't going anywhere.

Pleased, the Heartless dipped its antlers towards her mouth, and with another flash--

"Mmphrml?" Aqua moaned behind the sudden gag of ice in her mouth. "Mmph! Nrrmph..."

Looking happy and confident, its mate now bound tight and gagged with spells of ice, the Winterhorn trotted back around to Aqua's rear. As it went, she thought back to her theory of it being bullied out of more aggressive herds. Was a life of submission why it so desperately wanted to bind and gag her? Was this a play to experience control?

Well... she was happy to oblige. Tonight, she was a Heartless's bound bitch.

There was the soft weight as the Winterhorn mounted her, its ice-tipped hooves dragging along her back. The tip of its penis tickled the outer folds of her mound.

"Mmmrrrrnn," Aqua moaned, her voice muffled by the ice gag.

The Winterhorn started soft and slow, its cock juuuust probing into her, the light tickle making her squirm, her wrists twisting fruitlessly in the ice. It held there for a moment, its hooves quivering against her back--and then it started up again. Its pace picked up, still gnawingly slow at first, yet slowly growing more and more assured, more confident, with every sawing thrust. It pushed into her, making her keen and shake and moan as her walls were forced to give way to deer cock. Despite the icy magic it wielded, the Winterhorn's body was warm, and its cock even warmer--it brought a pleasant warmth to her inner recesses, like a fire being stoked, and she shuddered around it.

She never would have imagined it in her old life, would have been aghast at admitting it even to herself, but the truth of it was: she loved monster cock.

The Winterhorn kept sawing into her, again and again, picking up pace until its hips were bucking against hers, hilting its cock within her over and over again. With every thrust, Aqua moaned into the ice gag, her words incoherent, her hands and wrists straining helplessly against the cuffs that bound her to the fallen tree. The Winterhorn had her bent over, and she couldn't rise; she was stuck there in breeding position as the Heartless took her again and again, its cock making pleasure sunburst across her vision and making her fantasize about a belly full of fawns.

Spirits above, but she loved being at this thing's mercy.

The Winterhorn was an unpracticed lover, but it made up for it with passion. Its cock rammed into her, spreading her open and making her moan from the sensation. The feeling of the Heartless's hips against hers was comforting, and the downy fur there tickled her clit with every buck, driving her wild. Aqua wanted desperately to reach down and touch herself... but she couldn't. Her hands were bound and helpless in the icy cuffs.

And the knowledge that she was like that was even more enticing to her.

She couldn't say how long she spent like that, bent over and straining around the Winterhorn's member as it slammed into her over and over again, breath heaving through her nose, her lips wide and sealed with ice, her hands useless. However long it was, she wished it had been for hours longer.

Eventually, the Heartless had enough. With a tremulous bugle, the deer slammed into her, the sudden force and pressure rubbing her clit with furious stimulation and making her flutter with delight as she came. Her paramour came too, cum that was warm and pleasant splashing into her, settling into her womb. Fawns, Aqua thought giddily. I've been given fawns.

They rested there for a few minutes after they were done, the Winterhorn slumped against its mate, panting for breath as its cock slowly deflated. Aqua could do nothing but stand there affixed to where she was, carrying the Heartless's weight on her back. Eventually the Winterhorn slipped out of her, cum leaking out to drip against the snow, and it meandered its way up front. With a touch of its antlers, the ice vanished.

Aqua immediately slumped earthward, not even caring there was snow underneath, all jelly-legged from orgasm and the fucking she'd received. Working her jaw, she grinned up at the ungulate staring down at her. "I liked it," she said.

With an appreciative nicker, the Winterhorn vanished into the snowy darkness, leaving Aqua alone there in camp. As she slowly warmed herself up with fire magic and slipped her clothes back on, Aqua found herself pleased at herself.

She was pretty sure she had made the right choice.