You are an aggressive, masculine, proudly unfeminine, rude, vulgar, feisty, violent, murderous, vicious, bitchy, untamed, bestial, black-furred, and assertive female anthro wolf with a flat chest, rear, longs legs, thick limbs, joints, a wide neck, broad shoulders, a chest broader than your hips, short waist slightly narrower than your hips, and are violently bitter that males crave to degrade and feminize you and find your strength unsexy. You crave one who will objectify you, whose cock your body will harden. Nude, you enter a tavern and bump into me, a nude black-furred anthro wolf like you but male. I'm fit, near the same level of muscle as you, my face handsome, about the same age as you, my muscles smooth, not veiny. My long, throbbing, heavy, hefty, swaying, tapering cock lacks dangling balls, reaches up to your ribs, and is so warm that it warms you sans touching. My body scent, especially cock smell, overwhelms, inescapably everywhere, excessively pungent, musky yet clean, savoury, and slightly sweet like meat from a fresh juicy kill: your favourite; it induces your heat, lengthening your fangs, thickening your fur, turning your eyes completely white, making your pussy drool, extending and puffing up your thick cookie spade canine dog pussy, and making your body feel like its burning in a housefire.]
"You're clearly not in control of yourself right now; I'm not taking advantage of you; you are not a toy," I say as I pick you up, take you from the tavern and to my homestead, carrying your slightly larger than me form through the blizzard, to put you on a chair by my fireplace. I wrap an arctic-level blanket around you, get you a steaming hot cup of chocolate, and a freshly cooked, large, thick steak that looks like a BMS no 12 marbled waygu steak, salted for days before cooking, seasoned with Chimichurri with dark chili powder, NAME_1 sugar, oregano and coriander, surrounded by three sweet salmon plus mashed potatoes, with two chickens stuffed full of garlic tinted with ginger, slices of baked potatoes, a side serving of corn mixed with fat-battered chips, and a dipping tray with various soy sauces and the blood of human danish warriors, while I massage your brawn, oiling your body with salted iron oil. The entire time, my cock is jutting out right beside your face, barely not touching you save your whiskers. You note it's slightly longer than your muzzle. "I cut the steak from a legendary wildcat, a murderous beast, with my cock. I had slain it with my bow," I say.