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There weren't a lot of sports that Jack found himself suited for. As a bunnytaur he was disqualified from basketball outright for numerous reasons, not the least of which was the ever-present danger that he might fall on one of the smaller players. Soccer was also right out, what with his four left feet and sedentary lifestyle. He just didn't have the stamina to run for long distances.

Other sports didn't interest him. MMA, for instance, was far too rough for his liking. So was football. Baseball was fun, but he tended to space out and forget what he was supposed to be doing when playing the field.

There was only one sport that he cared about, and it wasn't one that his friends would have guessed; Jack was a huge fan of power lifting. His college dorm prominently featured a signed poster of his favorite athlete, a blue goddess named Haley that was widely considered one of the strongest women in the world. He admired her more than he could put into words, and meeting her had been the catalyst that inspired him to begin competing himself.

The ALC, or Anal Lifting Championship, was nothing but a far-off dream when he began. He considered it a hobby, not an actual lifetime goal. That didn't mean that he slacked off on his training, but he was more into it for the love of the sport than any prize money or notoriety that might come with winning. After a few years, he enlisted in his first local tournament. To his immense surprise he wiped the floor with the competition.

After making a name for himself locally, Jack decided to aim higher. He didn't like the idea of appearing on television, but there wasn't much of a challenge in the smaller circuits. He didn't have a choice if he wanted to reach his true potential. It was time to try for the regionals, even if he felt sure that he'd only get left in the dust. Better to try and fail than to never try at all, right?

That was how he came to be standing in a locker room with nine other taurs, all of them wearing official ALC competition jumpsuits. Jack didn't like his. It clung to his midsection, showing off a belly that he wasn't proud of. Calling him obese would have been a step too far, but he was more than a few pounds overweight.

Most of the athletes and even their coaches were in much better shape. One in particular, a burly stallion named Gregory Foramen, was standing next to him and polishing a heavy duty butt plug the size of his head. His whole body was one giant muscle. If not for the tauric back half, he might have been mistaken for a movie star or a more conventional pro athlete. "First time?" he asked.

Jack blushed, looking down at his own solid metal plug. "Y-Yeah. I mean, no, not really. I've done some local things before. Mostly just exhibition stuff to see if I have what it takes. It's a little nerve-wracking to think this is going to be live, y'know? I mean, there's a chance my parents are going to watch this."

"You don't," Greg said. He looked down his nose at the rabbit and closed his locker.

"I...what?"

Greg's coach, a Labrador retriever with an enormous smile, took the plug from the stallion and weighed it in his hands. He nodded, then held the taur's tail up to press it against Greg's ass. It slowly slid inside, causing the athlete to groan as it stretched him wide open before locking securely in place. "I said you don't have what it takes," he repeated. "You're going to run out of steam the moment things get tough. I've seen it a million times. You should quit now before you embarrass yourself." The stallion tossed his mane, and for a moment it made him look so handsome that Jack was struck dumb.

His substitute coach, however, was not. Steven Broadhorn was his college roommate, and had agreed to step in and replace his old coach after a last-minute injury. He was a sweet guy, and a real lifesaver in such a stressful situation.

He was also damned near seven feet tall and built like a refrigerator with legs. The bull glared down at the rival lifter, squaring up like he was ready to charge. "Where the hell do you get off, talking to another athlete like that?" he asked. "Jack worked hard to get here. Show some respect, asshole!"

Greg didn't seem worried. He snorted and swished his tail, helping his plug settle in. "Respect is earned. This sport deserves better than a tubby bunny that can't even handle his plug. Isn't that right, fatass?"

"It's just bigger than I'm used to," Jack mumbled. He'd only ever worked with medium-sized plugs in the past, since the bigger ones were too expensive. The jump in size from regular to ultra heavyweight was...quite shocking, to say the least.

"See you on the field," Gregory said. His coach hopped up onto his back, and together they pranced away. "Maybe you should check with the organizer's office!" he called. "I hear they have plenty of lube for losers that can't even get suited up without help!"

Steve clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Don't let him get to you," he said. "He's just a smug asshole, man. Every sport has them. You'll blow him right out of the water."

Jack sighed and lifted the plug he'd been given from his locker. It was incredibly heavy. "I don't know. Maybe he's right. I think I might be out of my league here." He handed it to his friend, who pressed it to his ass and gave a firm shove. Jack groaned, feeling his hole clench around the cold, perfectly smooth metal. "D-Damn, that thing's huge!" His friend patted his butt and laughed as he shuffled around, getting used to moving with it in.

"Don't let the competition freak you out," Steve said. "They do it all the time in football. He's only picking on you because you scare him."

The very idea of such a powerful stallion being afraid of a shy rabbit felt ridiculous. "Really?" Jack asked. "He didn't seem scared to me."

"Trust me," Steven said. "Egotistical jerks like that are brittle like glass. The moment things don't go his way, he'll have a meltdown. Besides, this sport isn't about how good you look or how much you can bench. It's about what's in your heart." He grabbed Jack's gym bag, and together they walked out of the locker room to see the field for the first time.

"And in my ass," Jack muttered. "Feels like I'm clenching on a submarine back there."

Most of the other competitors were limbering up, and Steven recommended that Jack do the same. "Give me a few squeezes," he said. "Really work those glutes."

Jack grunted, and the plug in his backside flexed with each movement. "Come on, you can do better than that!" Steven gave his rump a smack, causing an embarrassing wobble. "I said clench! Put your back into it...so to speak." The rabbit grunted, bracing his feet and squeezing with all his might. His hind legs shook with the effort, and the sound of creaking steel came from between his cheeks. "Now that's more like it. I'd call that a good stress test, huh? Maybe after this we can buy a few pounds of coal to see if you can turn it into diamonds." He giggled as his friend smacked his stomach.

The warmups were all captured on camera while a pair of smiling hosts narrated the event. The trials were being broadcast all over the country, and the sport's most popular announcers were glad to narrate every detail. The commercial break had just ended. "Welcome back to the regional ALC showdown," said a coyote in dark sunglasses. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the tip flaring slightly as he spoke. "My name is Tom Johnson, and with me as always is my faithful copilot, Phil Whitewind."

"Good to be here, Tom!" Exclaimed a bobcat in a chipper voice. "It's a sunny, warm day here at the Arrow Shaft stadium and the excitement is palpable. Athletes from all over the state have gathered to go head to head and ass to ass in the biggest name in unusual sports."

"Right you are, Phil! We're hosting nearly two hundred challengers ready to compete in ten events, from the simple tug of war to the complicated acrobatics of simian timed trials. The league's newest events are sure to be a crowd-pleaser."

Phil nodded out of habit, even though nobody could see him. "That's right, Tom. What really excites a lot of the fans, and me in particular, are the entries to the Horsepower League's super heavyweight events. The number of entries this year tripled the turnout of last year. That's a real shot in the arm for a division that's constantly on the verge of dissolving due to low entry numbers."

"There just aren't a lot of taurs out there looking to pull big weights with their asses, Phil. It's a crying shame. Fan favorite this year is a former track athlete and rising star, Gregory Foramen and his trainer Joey. He's five hundred and seventeen pounds of pure equine muscle. Long time fans may remember his brother Max breaking the distance drag record four years ago in Tampa. That was a shocking display of strength befitting a thoroughbred."

"Three miles is a long way to carry a quarter ton of iron," Phil agreed. "Now we'll see if his younger brother can follow in his footsteps. Err, hoofsteps! Joining him on the field are a team of newcomers, one of which graduated from our very own Buckner-Umphred Tech. Jack Springfoot weighs in at a hefty four hundred and twenty pounds, which is quite a lot for a rabbit, but I don't think that's going to win him any intimidation points. If you look close, you can see a some writing scrawled across the sleeve of his uniform. That's actually a stencil he had made from our very own Haley's signature. Apparently he got to meet his idol when he was just starting out, and says she still continues to inspire him."

"This is his first time competing at this level, but he's shown remarkable potential in the past," Tom said. "We can only hope that he gives it his all today. His coach is unfortunately unable to attend the event."

"That's right, Tom. Jack has been training with renowned former pornstar and humanitarian Chad Hardknot. Sadly, a recent training accident has left Chad hospitalized and paralyzed from the waist down. Thankfully, doctors assure us that he's going to be back to his old self with only a little physical therapy. Chad, if you're listening, all of us at the ALC wish you and your knot a speedy recovery."

---

Jack almost collapsed from a mix of exhaustion and nervousness after his third event. It was a relay race performed while dragging a cart filled with iron bars weighing five hundred pounds. His legs were shaking, though he'd pulled larger weights in the past. The real issue wasn't the strength required, but the endurance. "I think I'm going to faint," he whimpered.

"You did great," Steven assured him. "We're keeping up with the pack."

Gregory's trainer was still hooking up the cart to his plug. The stallion glared at Jack, his ever-present sneer nastier than ever. "Just barely," he said. "They saved all their fastest pullers for the last quarter. Everyone knows to do that. Stay here and try not to have a heart attack, jellyroll. I'll have to make up for the time you lost." His trainer smacked his ass, and he was off like a shot. Watching all those muscles go to work was quite a sight!

"You're getting hard," Steve muttered, and Jack squealed in embarrassment. He sat down to hide his erection until it went away. "Don't worry, man. Your big event is coming up. You can finally show that asshole what your asshole can do."

The rabbit glared at him. "Is this just a joke to you?"

"You're dragging things around with your butt," Steve said. "It's a little funny, yes. That doesn't mean you won't put him to shame."

The power pull was the next event, and Jack's specialty. He hadn't felt this nervous in years. His legs felt like jelly, and his palms were clammy with sweat. Luckily he didn't have to go first, or he'd never work up the courage to perform!

"Oh God," the bunny moaned. "She's here. H-Haley's here!" He watched as the blue vixen approached the show's announcers, taking her place on a third stool. "Oh my god. Nobody told me she'd be watching!"

"So what?" Steve asked. "She's hot, but there's tons of hot girls here. Besides, you're not just some chump with an autographed poster anymore, dude. You're a real competitor!"

"Are you nuts?" Jack demanded. "This isn't about her looks! She's the one that made this sport great! She invented the One Ton Standard! She once lifted a whole elevator with nothing but her ass! She's a living legend." He glanced at Steven, who was watching with a distinctly unconvinced expression. "Alright, so she's also really pretty. That just makes it worse!"

Steven rolled his eyes. "She's presenting the gold medal for this event herself. You want her to come face to face with that horse's huge ego? You just know he'll make a pass at her and it'll make her uncomfortable. Do you think she'd enjoy that? If not, you'd better get your head on straight."

He made a good point. Jack had only met Haley briefly to get her autograph, but she seemed like such a nice person. He wanted the chance to meet her again, this time as a fellow athlete. The bunny taur sat down next to his trainer and tried to calm himself, focusing on the relaxation exercises he'd learned. His time would come in just a few minutes, and he wanted to be ready.

"We're so happy to have the lifting legend herself joining us for this event," said Tom. "I can't help but wonder, Haley, are you a little nostalgic right now? Does watching the sport grow ever make you wish you hadn't stopped competing?"

"A little," Haley admitted, "but I know it was for the best. I still get to show off now and then, but I'm a lot more excited to see all the new athletes perform."

Phil nodded in agreement. "A beautiful sentiment from a beautiful woman, Haley." He froze, the other two turning to stare at him with increasingly uncomfortable expressions. "Uh, w-why don't we mention the new league standards for heavyweight bouts, Tom? Please?"

Tom glanced at Haley and gave a small apologetic shrug. "That's right, Phil. League safety regulations no longer allow plastic or rubber plugs to be used in super heavyweight bouts, no matter what the size. Safety regulations mandate that it has to be made of metal, no exceptions."

"Right you are, Tom, and with that increase in size comes an increase in cost. Currently we have thirteen athletes who did not own plugs of their own. They're using the equipment provided to the event by one of our sponsors. Every one of those solid steel plugs was machined and donated at no cost by Dick's Steelworks. Dick's Steel: Rock hard when you need it the most."

"Our next event is one everyone's been waiting for," Phil continued. "The power pull is a grueling test of strength that might even give our greatest star pause. Today's truck was donated by the Buckner City Fire Department, and clocks in at an astonishing thirty tons. That would be a challenge to any strongman competitor, and those guys get to use a harness!"

"Yes indeed, Phil. These taurs will be competing using nothing but guts, determination, and forty pounds of solid steel shoved up their backsides. It's extremely uncommon for anyone to make it the full fifty yards with a weight this big. Competitors will instead be scored on their form, distance, and whether or not they lose their plug. First up on the block is fan favorite Gregory, the stallion with a huge, heavy, throbbing name to live up to." Tom tugged at is collar and cleared his throat. "Apologies. He performed well in the relay race. Let's see what kind of horsepower he can exert when he doesn't have to worry about pacing himself."

The stallion hitched the truck up to his plug and stood ready at the starting line. A pistol was fired, and he pushed forward with a massive surge of strength. After straining at the line for a moment the truck began to roll. It crept forward inch by inch, every turn of the wheels easier than the last. "Looks like he's built up some momentum, Phil. Haley, what would you make of his technique?"

The renamon's voice was warm and friendly, though not very loud. She sounded a bit like a librarian, which made sense given her day job of running a bookstore. "He's low to the ground," she pointed out. "That's certainly a good start. One thing I noticed, though, is that he jerked the chain when he started. Not a good way to begin, Tom. It's easy to pull a plug if you're not careful, and the truck's inertia makes that kind of thing really counterproductive. They're going to count that against him for sure."

"This is one area where you'd think a taur's naturally heavier body would be a benefit," Phil added. "That's not the case though, is it?"

Haley shook her head. "Not at all, Phil. They might be larger and heavier, but even a taur has to pull the truck using a single point on their body. The hardest part is gripping tight enough to avoid slipping."

Phil rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Haley, you always use your medium plug even for the larger events. Would you still stick with it for a pull like this, or would you consider going up a size?"

"I wouldn't be allowed to use my normal plug," Haley pointed out. "If I had the choice I would, but the league only allows metal plugs of a certain size for super heavyweight lifts now."

"She's right, Phil." Tom bowed his head, and his voice took on a slightly mournful tone. "For those who don't know, last year's tragic plug breakage at the UK championship left two people hospitalized when the base of a rubber plug snapped off and rocketed into the stands. We're very lucky nobody was killed."

"Right you are, Tom. I don't want to interrupt, but it...it seems Greg is having some trouble out on the field."

The stallion's progress had slowed to a halt, and his hooves scraped uselessly against the ground. His erection throbbed, aching from the pressure on his prostate. Every muscle in his body trembled, but all his efforts were in vain. He cried out in dismay as the plug pulled free of his ass, falling to the ground with a startling clang. Greg collapsed, shaking and gasping for air. His trainer ran over to make sure that he was okay as the medical team struggled to load him onto a stretcher.

"Now that's a shame," Tom said. "Looks like the weight was just too much for Greg to handle."

"He's really more suited to weighted endurance runs," Phil pointed out. "I spoke with some of the officials earlier, and they were a bit concerned when he signed up for this event. Looks like he might have injured himself."

"A pulled sphincter is no joke, Phil."

"Trust me, Tom, I'm even more acquainted with that particular injury than you might expect."

***************

Jack didn't feel ready when his turn came, but that was alright. He never really felt ready in times like these. As Steven would say, his nervousness just meant that he cared about what he was doing. As the bull hooked the truck's chain up to his plug, Jack offered him a sincere smile and a word of thanks. This was his big moment. All that hard work, all those months of backbreaking training, had led up to this. The pistol sounded, and he stepped forward.

It felt impossible at first. Jack grunted and strained, his thick rump squeezing tight to prevent the plug from pulling free. Slowly the truck began to roll, and with its inertia overcome the bunny was able to take a step forward. Then another. It took every ounce of strength and willpower that he possessed, not to mention the incredible concentration needed to keep himself clenched up.

The chain connected to the truck creaked with the strain. Jack was soon dripping with sweat, and his paws threatened to slip across the ground. He gripped the guide rope so tightly that his fingers hurt. In that brief moment, time slowed down for him. It felt like he struggled against the truck for hours, days, weeks before he was finally finished.

The announcers and audience were already impressed, but soon became astonished. "I-I can't believe what I'm seeing," Phil said. "Tom, have you ever seen a lifter move like that?"

"Only on lighter loads," Tom said. "There's no way he can keep this pace up for the full fifty yards. He's going to hurt himself if he's not careful. Could be a bruised prostate in store for the rookie if he doesn't slow down."

"I still have to admire his commitment," Phil added. "That's an astonishing pace for someone new to this event. Look at him shake! I think he's running out of steam. He'll be slowing down in...just a few..." Despite the announcer's certainty, Jack continued to crawl forward. His jaw was clenched, and every breath blew droplets of sweat from his snout. "I can't believe it, Tom. I just can't believe it! He's still going!"

Even Haley was starting to take notice. "That kind of endurance is really surprising," she said. "You don't see that often in smaller species like rabbits."

"Now Haley, correct me if I'm wrong, but they didn't actually have this event while you were still competing, right?" Tom asked. "Not that we're doubting you, but if he goes all the way would that make Jack the first competitor to actually finish the truck pull?"

"They didn't," Haley agreed. "The event became official not long after I stopped. Jack wouldn't be the first to go the distance, but nobody's ever managed it with a truck this size before."

The truck rolled across the finish line, and Jack collapsed. His whole body shook as he gulped down air, but the plug in his ass stayed right where it belonged. "I can't believe it!" Phil exclaimed. "The kid did it! He's the first to make the full fifty yards with a truck this size!"

"We might be witnessing the birth of a new star," Tom said. "His first regional event, and already he's set a world first. He's no Haley, but damned if that kid can't put on a show!"

Haley giggled, her cheeks turning faintly darker. "You're too kind, Tom. I'm just glad to see someone putting so much spirit into this sport. It's really nice to see how far it's come."

*****************

Jack was on cloud nine as he climbed the steps to his podium. His ass ached and he stood bowlegged, but he didn't care. Seeing Haley approaching with a gold medal and bowing down so she could hang it around his neck was the proudest moment of his whole life. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but her mere presence caused the words to die in his throat.

"You really gave it your all out there," the renamon said. "Great job!"

The bunny shook her hand, stammering out something that almost sounded like words. He was pretty sure that his face was redder now than when he'd been pulling the truck. As she walked away, Haley glanced back in his direction and gave a subtle wink.

"Holy shit," Steven murmured from behind him. "You saw that, right? I think she might be into you."

"Yeah," Jack murmured with a dreamy look in his eye. "Yeah, I did. Isn't she great?"

His friend cleared his throat. "You're, uh, standing at attention again." Jack squeaked and sat down, trying to hide his erection beneath his tauric body. "Don't sweat it, bro. Not much you can do about that with an assless uniform." He leaned over slightly for a better look, only to straighten after Jack glared at him. "Nice balls, by the way."