Work Text:
Lando was used to it now; the routine after a bad race. He did his best to not cause a scandal in the press pen (usually didn't succeed because people didn't seem to like anything Lando had to say) and then returned to the hospitality for debrief and his punishment.
He knew he was going to get punished. There was no way he wasn't.
He'd done horribly in qualifying — something that was completely on him. He just mucked it up. It didn't matter that he'd been faster than Oscar all weekend. He'd qualified P3. Lando just didn't get it.
Then the race itself had looked so promising. He'd climbed his way back up and he'd had the pace to take on Kimi. He'd just needed to get past Oscar. Then he'd fucked that up too. Made a misjudgment bad enough that he'd fucked his own race and nearly taken Oscar out with him.
He felt like shit. To make matters worse, it'd been all that any journalist had wanted to talk about — because of course it was. So he was in a bit of a sour and sullen mood as the team's press officers walked him and Oscar back to the McLaren hospitality.
Tom and Will were both waiting at the entrance for them like usual.
It hadn't always been like this. It used to be that they'd remain cageless until after debrief, but after Carlos left and Lando kept misbehaving, they'd tightened 'protocol'. Lando hated it, but what could he do? Acting out never got him anywhere, and he'd never been able to be good like Carlos or Oscar. Danny had been good too, but he just… hadn't been able to perform consistently enough. The team had wanted Oscar more.
Neither race engineer (and handler) said anything as they lead them into the hospitality. They'd just buckled their papaya orange collars and leashes on and taken them into a side room where they'd dutifully pulled down their pants to get their stupid cock cages locked back on.
Lando didn't get it. They were still all gross and sweaty from the race and he had no doubt that they'd be even worse after what awaited them in debrief. The cage would just have to come back off again for cleaning. Wouldn't it be more efficient if they just left it off until after?
It wasn't up to Lando though. He was just one of the team's puppies, and he was supposed to be well trained.
he'd been the team puppy for going on 7 years now.
Once he and Oscar had been locked away again, they'd been allowed to pull their pants back up.
It was a particularly bad weekend, then they would have been instructed to strip, their racing suits and fireproofs left for some poor team employee to look after. Then they'd be almost paraded around the hospitality for the whole team to see. Some kind of humiliation ritual to show the team that they were being punished and also to shame them into not making the same mistake again.
He'd spent a lot of time naked in front of the team before they'd finally gotten good car. Then that was… a bit less frequent.
He could tell Oscar was a bit apprehensive though, of them both being allowed to wear clothes and walk on two feet. They were still leashed, collared, and caged though. Oscar was all stiff and quiet beside him. Lando couldn't blame him. Oscar was the more reserved type and well… he was probably working himself into some kind of spiral about what was going to happen to them in the debrief. Starting out clothed was more than enough to make the Aussie feel off kilter.
Oscar was a good puppy, although it didn't come naturally to him. He wasn't anywhere near as awful and uncomfortable with it as Danny had been, but Lando could tell that the whole thing still made him uncomfortable. He thought too much about it; got stuck in his own head in the wrong way.
Lando himself was admittedly — as Max would say — sulking too. Oscar may have had a disappointing weekend considering where they were supposed to be, but he hadn't royally fucked it like Lando had. If anyone should be quiet and solemn it was him.
Neither Will nor Tom spoke as they lead them both by the leas toward the designated debrief room. Not the one where they handled the whole technical aspect of their weekend and jobs, but the hospitality 'puppy' room.
It was deep in the makeshift building where only McLaren employees had access to it. It contained most of their puppy gear. His and Oscar's crates, toys, and anything else they could possibly need for either punishment or reward. They liked to have thing son hand, not wanting to wait until they got back to the MTC to take care of business.
It wasn't a long walk, but apprehension grew in his system anyways. What was he going to walk into?
Andrea, Zak, and some of the strategy and pit teams were already waiting for them when they entered the room. So were their crates.
The crates were one of Lando's least favourite parts of this whole thing. Sure, it really sucked to have his bosses control his ability to orgasm for 7 years, but the cock cage wasn't that uncomfortable and the team was usually happy enough with his performance to make regular orgasms still a thing. Admittedly, his behaviour left things to be desired, but that usually didn't impact his permission to orgasm during play too much. Not enough to upset or cow Lando into behaving anyways. That was just his personality.
Besides, those punishments didn't usually leave him feeling empty and vaguely suicidal.
The crate on the other hand was awful. It really gave Lando a lot more sympathy for real dogs. Lando hated the crate.
He'd been measured for his when he was a 19 year old rookie. He may not have gained height since then, but he had bulked up. It made the strong steel bars of the damn thing fee that much more oppressive.
Lando was often reckless and energetic. The crate didn't allow him much movement. It also meant that he couldn't touch anyone and no one could touch him.
Sometimes he'd just be left in the crate all alone. Lando hated it. It trapped him with his thoughts and in his humiliating state. It made him so anxious he shook.
It was almost worse when he and his teammate were both crated. Then, Lando may not have been alone, but he was trapped, and his teammate was trapped and he couldn't touch them.
It drove him nuts. That was his teammate. His puppy. They shouldn't ever be kept from him.
Lando legitimately hating the crate was what made it such an effective punishment.
It certainly didn't help that some weekends they just got crated for convenience. At least then though, they were sometimes allowed clothes.
The crates were positioned away from the walls but not fully central to the room either. Somewhat off to the side but with a full view of everything. It made Lando feel jittery. The door clicked and locked shut behind them as he and Oscar were guided deeper into the room. With surprising elegance, Oscar slid down to his knees, folding his arms behind his back. Reluctantly, Lando followed suit.
It was how all of their debriefs began, joint or solo. They were always supposed to kneel. They were no longer just Formula 1 drivers. Now they were the McLaren puppies and they were supposed to be obedient what well trained. That meant kneeling.
"We're going to be doing things a little bit differently today, boys," Andrea announced.
Beside him, Oscar's head shot up, a look of confusion on his face. "What?"
"The punishments just don't seem to be sticking anymore," Andrea explained calmly. "Lando isn't learning."
Oscar looked about as gobsmacked as Lando felt.
They were no strangers to the punishments being switched up. Lando had been with McLaren for a long time and he'd earned many punishments. Sometimes they just stopped being effective. They'd tried out all kinds of things from orgasm denial to overstimulation to spanking and neglect. They went in cycles whenever one stopped being effective. Obviously there were some that were more constant — like orgasm denial, damned cock cage — but the team had learned that switching things up periodically was necessary. Enrichment.
But this approach was different from the norm. They typically didn't just announce it, let alone in front of Oscar like this. It made Lando wary, confused, and anxious.
He was a very empathetic individual. If Oscar was feeling something, odds were that Land would pick up on it and bounce it back. If Oscar was confused and anxious, then Lando probably ought to be on guard and feel the same. Oscar was much shrewder than he was. The Australian had good instincts like that.
Now Oscar was on edge. As the one who was actually being punished, Lando really ought to be.
"Strip," Zak commanded. He was harsher, none of his usual levity. While sometimes this harder side came out around Lando when he really pushed the American's buttons, he'd never done it in front of Oscar. At least not that Lando remembered.
The whole team seemed to have a soft spot for Oscar. Maybe because for the first time Lando wasn't the young new puppy. Maybe because he took everything so beautifully. Lando liked watching Oscar too.
It was so painfully obvious that Oscar was trying so hard to be good. How could they be harsh with him? Sure, they didn't ease up with the punishments or training, but they were gentler with how they spoke to and guided Oscar. Zak was always eager to play with new puppies too so even though Lando knew that he was still Zak's favourite, Zak was always happy to play with Oscar too.
Well, Lando wouldn't say that he was unhappy. His eyes still had that dark, hungry look. He just… wasn't smiling. He was always smiling.
Oscar glanced over at Lando, his brown eyes wide. Still, Oscar didn't hesitate to follow the order, and neither did Lando. An order was an order and they were just team puppies.
Lando didn't bother with much decorum. He really didn't see the point. His race suit and fireproofs were all sweaty and gross (thankfully not wet anymore) and it wasn't like folding something before it got washed was all that useful. Besides, it was just a waste of time in debriefs. Depending on the bosses' moods at the time, looking like you were stalling could just make everything worse.
Oscar bothered to fold things though. Because Oscar was just so well behaved. Ugh.
Still, they were both quick with it, well practiced in the art of getting naked quickly. Punishments were always done with them naked save for their cock cages or collars. If they were at the MTC, they were naked more often than not. Lando had long since stopped feeling any shame about it. He looked damn good and he knew it. What was there to feel ashamed about?
Oscar was much more reserved than Lando and despite this being his third year with the team, he still blushed as soon as he was laid bare.
Lando didn't think that he had anything to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. Even with the cock cage on and firmly secured, it was obvious that Oscar was well endowed. On top of that, he had a pretty face and gorgeous body. He was built; muscular and strong. Yet he also still had some softness to him. Softness that Lando did his best to touch and grab whenever he had the chance.
It always made Oscar let out these cute little whines and yelps. Lando was addicted.
Lando let his eyes wander over Oscar's body shamelessly. That new trainer of his was really putting in the work to make Oscar even more drool worthy. Lando appreciated it. He knew that other members of the team certainly did.
Lando was pulled from his ogling by Will taking a firm hold of his leash — an addition that had come when Danny Ric had joined the team and was being trained to be a team puppy for the first time in his career — and tugging.
Lando followed the tugging of the leash automatically. It was second nature to crawl, and he didn't have the same problem with aches, pains, and knobbly knees that Danny had had. It wasn't like Lando disliked being on his knees anyways. Crawling wasn't that bad. It was how things were done in the MTC.
He only hesitated when he realized that Will wasn't leading him to the center of the room, he was leading him to his crate. He didn't have to go into the crate.
God, how he hated the crate.
But he had no choice. Will wasn't putting up with his resistance and before he really knew it, he was locked in the crate. He grumbled to himself as he scrambled a bit inside. He had just enough room to move around, and as expected, the view of the rest of the room was all but completely uninterrupted.
His knees ached a bit with the position he was in, the harshness of the floor of the crate — for some reason so much worse than the actual ground — only softened by the slight padding of the puppy pads laid across the floor of the crate. His cheeks flushed with frustration. He hadn't wet himself in ages, and yet the team still insisted on the damn puppy pads. He had better control now, dammit.
"Punishing Lando directly has not proven to be effective in correcting mistakes," Andrea said. "We cannot afford to keep having mistakes like this. We can secure both championships this year, and we need the best form both of you."
Lando watched as Tom took a hold of Oscar's leash then, much like how Will had taken a hold of his.
At the same time, Will had moved around his crate and was securing his leash to the outside of the crate.
"Instead of punishing Lando directly, we'll be using you too punish Lando."
Lando's heart dropped to his stomach. What the actual fuck?
Using Oscar to punish Lando?!
Oscar was just as shocked as Lando was; he audibly choked on his own spit in reaction to that statement.
"You're punishing me… for Lando's mistakes?"
Lando bristled a bit out at the tone Oscar spoke with. Objectively, he knew that Oscar wasn't wrong to be so shocked and offended. He was being punished when he'd done nothing to earn it. And on top of that, it sounded like Lando wasn't getting a punishment. It really wasn't fair of the team. Lando could easily see how it came off as favouritism — something Oscar didn't talk about but Lando knew secretly bothered him. Lando could act up as much as he wanted and instead of him being punished, now Oscar was going to pay the price. It really wasn't fair.
But Lando didn't like how Oscar said it. Sure, it was petty and unfair of him, but the way Oscar had emphasized his name bothered him. It was like he was blaming Lando.
It wasn't Lando's fault! How could he have known that this would happen? McLaren had never done collective punishments before. It had always been individual — probably a way to create jealousy of the other pup and more drive (it only ever made Daniel more defeated) — so Lando didn't get why it was changing. Still… it wasn't Lando's fault.
He knew he'd more than earned a punishment this weekend. Not only had he completely fucked his quali, but he'd also crashed out. But he'd done that before. Why was this time so different?
"Well, you didn't have the best weekend either, Oscar," Zak chimed in.
Lando's eyes widened just a bit. He hadn't thought Oscar had really earned a punishment. Sure, it was less amazing of a performance, but Oscar had still gotten good points. This time last year, a 4th place finish meant a reward for the younger puppy.
"We'll try this time and see how Lando responds," Andrea continued. "Lando cares for you, so maybe seeing that his actions don't just affect himself will make him adjust better."
Lando felt called out.
He knew that he wasn't subtle about his… favour of Oscar. He'd gotten attached remarkably quickly to the younger driver. He was sweet and cute, and he looked at Lando like he was something worth looking up to. He had a nice laugh, and he laughed all of Lando's jokes even when he knew that they weren't funny. Oscar made a good puppy and Lando just liked being around him. He was a good teammate.
Lando had liked his other teammates just fine, but he knew that there was something different with Oscar. He hadn't thought that the team would have made any particular note of it though. Certainly not enough to try this.
(They wouldn't have dared try this with Carlos. Both because of his backing — who didn't know about the puppy situation — and because Lando had still been such a younger puppy.
It hadn't been necessary with Daniel. Not when Daniel was the one getting punished more.)
He could see that Oscar still wanted to protest. There was a look of almost righteous anger in his eyes and he could see a muscle in his jaw flexing.
"So I'm taking both of our punishments?" he snapped. "I had a good race!"
"You finished below how you qualified," Andrea responded calmly. "You know the car was good enough for a podium."
Oscar's jaw dropped, the fury evident on his face. Lando understood. He knew the burn of doing the best you possibly could and then being told it was not enough. Oscar usually took these things on the cheek though.
But Oscar was under a lot of stress. He was leading this championship for the first time in his career and the team expected a lot of him. Even a guy as controlled as Oscar was bound to at least bristle a bit at this.
It seemed like Oscar was going to continue to argue — a stupid move more characteristic of Lando than the Australian — but he was stopped by Tom tugging on the leash. The leather of his collar pressing against the pale swell of Oscar's neck. Oscar remained quiet, a strange look replacing the anger in his eyes.
Zak raised a finer and mockingly wagged it at him. "Good dogs don't talk back," he scolded. Lando flinched a bit. He couldn't remember a time that Oscar had really… been challenged like this. He was a good puppy even if he was uncomfortable with the term. "Don't worry though. We know today will be a lot, so we'll help you!"
Oscar frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His mouth still hung open just a bit.
With the way that he was facing, he couldn't see Tom and Will moving behind him. But Lando could. He watched silently as Will grabbed something black and then moved to Oscar. In a smooth, coordinated move, Will grabbed Oscar's face and secured the black thing over the lower half of it.
Lando recognized what it was right away.
They'd muzzled Oscar.
It was nice; high quality. The muzzle covered a large area of his face, extending from just below his cheek bones and nose to hook under his chin. It was made out of a sleek leather, fit surprisingly well to the contours of his face. There were two buckles and straps that went around the back of Oscar's head. They were tightened enough to make the edges of the soft muzzle dog just a bit into the flush of his cheeks. He wouldn't be able to move his jaw at all. With the solid panels, it was a good thing that his nose remained uncovered.
Will moved around to the front of Oscar, making eye contact with the kneeling pup as he adjusted the muzzle until it sat correctly on him.
"This will help you keep quiet," Will informed him, his voice plenty loud enough to carry through the room. "We are still on the paddock after all. It'll also stop you from lashing out.
Holy fuck. What did they have planned?
Lando shuffled in his crate, his cock cage now pressing uncomfortably against his cock. Oscar just looked so good like this; on his knees, collared, leashed, and muzzled. Lando wanted to touch him so bad. The only things that could make him look better and more appetizing would be if he were tied up, but there was appeal to him kneeling obediently too.
The movement drew Andrea's attention to him though.
"You made a big misjudgment today, Lando. You could have taken both you and Oscar out, and let Max make headway into the championship. This is unacceptable. We are McLaren. We do not crash into each other. We are better."
Lando flinched and squirmed at the scolding. He always hated being reminded of his fuck ups. It was what made debriefs like this so painful. He knew he messed up. Wasn't the way he was torturing himself mentally enough?
"I—"
Lando began to protest but Andrea cut him off.
"Lando," he said sharply. "You know better. Puppies don't speak."
Lando shrank back on himself a tiny bit, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and sliding his eyes to the floor.
He hated when they got like this with him; all disappointed.
"Arf," he barked weakly, voice small.
"I know it is hard for you, Lando, but you've been here many years."
Immediately, Andrea's tone had softened. It eased a small bit of tension n Lando's frame even though the words themselves still were not that kind.
It wasn't like Andrea was wrong or making things up. Lando had been with the team for a while. He had spent 6 years in Formula 1, the last years even involving a bid for the driver's championship title. He'd never been with any team but McLaren either. He'd been trained as a team puppy for as long as he'd been a Formula 1 driver.
Either way you looked at it, Lando should not be making the mistakes that he was.
Oscar blew an irritated huff of air out of his nose, drawing everyone's attention back to where he was still kneeling so prettily.
"Now, now, Oscar. Don't get testy," Zak said. "We'll be paying plenty of attention to you."
Tom tugged at Oscar's leash. Tom had stepped out from where he was standing behind Oscar and moved toward the center of the room. Oscar looked up at the engineer with wide eyes. Tom just tightened his grip on the leash.
With evident reluctance, Oscar crawled after Tom until he was in front of Zak and Andrea. He returned to his perfect kneeling pose. He sat on his heels, his knees spread, making his thighs look huge. It made the view of his caged cock look all the more obscene.
With Oscar, the team seemed to favour a barred metal cock cage rather than one that fully enveloped the appendage like Lando had been trained on.
It made sense. Oscar had a pretty cock, all pale but rosy skin that darkened as it was tortured. The poor thing even bruised visibly. It only made sense that the team didn't want to hide that from view.
The more open yet still restrictive design allowed for the team to tease the puppies' cocks as well (even if that was still uncommon) even while caged.
Right now it looked almost like Oscar's poor cock was blushing, the delicate skin was so flushed. It made Lando draw his own thighs together just a little.
Of course Oscar was proper and he laid his hands palm down on his bare thighs. The squish of his thighs made his hands look even smaller, God.
"There's a good puppy," Zak cooed, unable to help himself at the lovely sight before him. "Maybe you'll even see this as a reward. You like playing with your toys, don't you?"
Oscar just stared up at the CEO silently. From Lando's angle, he couldn't really tell what kind of stare it was, but it mustn't have been too impertinent since no one reacted.
Lando watched as Will moved from where he'd somehow ended up across the room after muzzling Oscar. He watched with familiar confident steps towards Oscar.
He didn't kneel — kneeling was for puppies — but he did end up at Oscar's eye level on the ground. Will grabbed him by the shoulders, fingers digging into the soft flesh in order to get a good grip. He used that grip to pull the Australian off of his knees and lay him down on the ground. Oscar's knees were all ruddy from the pressure of kneeling and crawling.
Oscar went relatively easy, only stiff enough to ensure that he didn't accidentally crack his head open on the floor. Tom shuffled a bit closer, putting a bit more slack to the leash.
Neither engineer spoke even as Will roughly pulled Oscar's legs apart, exposing Oscar to the whole room. Now Lando could see the way his cage almost glinted under the harsh overhead lighting. His legs were spread — knees bent and feet flat on the floor. Lando's crate was positions to provide a clear view of what was between his legs.
His balls were flushed even more than his caged cock. They looked swollen and borderline painful. Lando felt sympathy. It had been 2 weeks without even being milked for the both of them.
But what caught his eye — and probably everyone else's to be fair — was Oscar's hole. It was shaved clean, revealing the adorable pucker. It was closed tight which Lando couldn't help but marvel at. He knew it had been 2 weeks, but after the way the team had celebrated his win in Spain? It seemed so impossible.
It was so small looking. Lando could hardly believe that it could take so much.
Oscar's hands were laid limply on the floor by his hips, like he didn't know what to do with them.
Andrea clicked his tongue. "Good. You did not disobey and play with yourself."
The visible part of Oscar's cheeks turned a dark pink at Andrea's blunt statement.
Throughout this, Will had been slicking his finger up with lube that he got from somewhere — Lando had not been paying enough attention, too enamoured with Oscar's body. Will reached down with such confidence and just stuck his finger into Oscar.
Oscar didn't make a sound. His body just… welcomed the finger in with no issue. Of course, it was only a single finger — and a well lube done at that — and they were both well practiced at that. He just… stared impassively as Will set to fucking his finger into Oscar's pliant body.
Tom reached forward, threading his fingers through Oscar's messy hair. The strands near the front and closest to his scalp were still sweaty. It didn't seem to bother Tom though. It shouldn't. They'd both been much messier before.
Oscar's eyes fluttered a bit at the feeling. He always went a bit more pliant, a bit more agreeable when someone pulled his hair. It made the younger man sweet.
Not too long after, Will pulled his finger out. Instead of moving to add another finger to his hole, Will moved t grab a toy from… beside him. Lando couldn't see. It was out of his field of vision. He dumped what looked to be a frankly absurd amount of lube onto the toy.
He wasted no time in bringing the blunt tip to Oscar's hole. It was a strangely shaped toy. Lando could tell that it wasn't a dildo or knotting toy even with his now partially covered view. It was almost 'T'-shaped, although the long part had some bumps and curves. It was fairly long at almost 5.5 inches give or take an inch. Lando could tell that he felt it when Will pushed it in.
The handle of the 'T' came to rest flush against Oscar's sweat and lube damp perineum, the bump there putting enough pressure to dimple the delicate skin a bit. The other end fit snugly between Oscar's spread cheeks. Despite its length, the insertable part of the toy wasn't all that wide. No more than an inch in diameter surely. Still, Oscar's small hole stretched visibly around it. The sight of the toy inside of him along with his flushed, hairless balls and caged cock was obscene.
Lando wasn't the only one staring at him hungrily. He was just the only one locked away, unable to touch.
"We'll start off simple," Andrea said. "We won't be taking the cage off, but you don't need permission to cum."
"Wouldn't be able to even if you tried," Zak laughed. "And to be clear, we do expect you to cum."
Lando frowned a little at that, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. They wanted Oscar to cum? That didn't really seem all that much like a punishment. Sure, they expected him to cum with the cage on — a feat that was not easy — but at the end of the day, Oscar still got to cum.
Lando couldn't exactly say the same, could we? He was locked up in his crate and cock cage, forced to just watch.
(He wondered what would happen if he tried not to watch. If he just laid down and closed his eyes. What would they do? Would they punish him? Tug on his leash until he had no choice but to look? Or would that just make Oscar's punishment worse?)
Could Oscar even cum with the cage on? He was pretty worked up even with so little having actually happened. Plus he hadn't cum in 2 weeks, and Oscar had always been sensitive. With enough stimulation, he could do it.
He could tell already that Oscar was pretty damn affected. His abdomen was tensed and his fingers flexed against the ground where they were laid palm down. Lando could just see how his hole clenched down on the toy.
It came to life with enough of a buzz to not only be visible at the base, but also for Lando to hear.
Oscar's reaction was beautiful. His eyes fluttered shut and even though he didn't make a sound, Lando saw the way his breath stuttered in his chest. His thighs tensed and quivered just slightly, the subtle movement because Lando was watching so closely.
Everything about it was so subtle and that was what made it beautiful. Oscar was so controlled, Lando hungered for any slip of that composure. He didn't always care what kind of slip. But this one — the one where Oscar couldn't help but give into how good he felt — was Lando's favourite. He just preferred when he was part of the cause of all of it.
God, he wanted to touch him so bad. His cock twitched within the confines of his own cage. It hurt, but it was a familiar hurt.
Oscar shifted more when the vibrations presumably kicked up a notch. Lando couldn't tell who even had the remote. Was it Will manually adjusting the levels from where he was at Oscar's side? Lando couldn't tell.
Tom tugged just a bit on the leash. "Starting to feel good, yeah?" he said.
Oscar just opened his eyes, craning his head back to look up at his handler. The angle made the black fabric of the muzzle stand out even more. Will's hand was pressed between his legs against the toy.
Little tufts of his normally fluffy brown hair were sticking out between the straps secured behind his head. His thick neck stood out, the muscles flexing beneath speckled skin. His Adam's apple stood out sharply.
"Don't get too lost there, Osc. You know Zak and Andrea love to watch a good show."
Oscar blew another huff of air out of his nose, his hips kicking involuntarily. From there, it was like whoever had control over the toy inside of Oscar made it their mission to get more reactions out of Oscar.
The buzzing sound just got louder. It was now past the point where Oscar could pretend that he was still unaffected. That first hip kick had really spelled his doom.
He squirmed around on the ground, his hips wiggling and jerking. The toy remained held firm inside of him though despite the movement and fluttering of his hole. Oscar's fingers nearly clawed against the ground, but he didn't move them. He still had his wits about him even if he couldn't remain still.
He'd squeezed his eyes shut again, the skin around his eyes scrunched up. Lando watched with fascination as his nostrils flared and contracted with every breath. Oscar was still quiet though. Other than the sounds of his increasingly laboured breathing, no sounds left his mouth.
It was unbelievably erotic to see. Oscar had begun to sweat again, the mounds and planes of his flesh glistening under the overhead lights. His legs shook and his knees looked like they were going to pull in.
Will reached out, moving faster than Lando honestly would have thought him capable of. He delivered a harsh slap to the sensitive skin of Oscar's inner thigh. Oscar jumped, his legs reflexively falling open at the hit.
"Don't hide," Will said. "Be a good puppy and stay where you're put."
Oscar's eyes squeezed shut even harder. His legs shook, but he determinedly kept his legs open. He even subtly shuffled his feet further apart, showing more of what was between his legs than before. Lando made a small whimpering sound that seemed to go unnoticed. Zak groaned loudly at the same time, palming the bulge his erection made in his slacks.
"Come on, Osc," Zak groaned. "You're all pent up, aren't you? Don't you want to cum? Show us how full your balls are? How good of a puppy you've been? Be a good puppy, Oscar."
Tom continued to pet Oscar's hair, but Lando was pretty sure it did very little to actually soothe Oscar.
He seemed to really be feeling the toy as it vibrated inside of him. Lando was sure it must be pressed right up against his prostate; what with the way Oscar was reacting.
It made Lando feel empty.
Lando had had a good race in Spain too. Sure, it wasn't as good as Oscar's — he'd only gotten 2nd place, not won it all — but it'd still been important points for both championships. He'd been rewarded. He'd been allowed to cum, and to choose how he wanted to cum at that. The team had been in such high spirits that they'd let him fuck Oscar as his reward. Lando had done so with gusto.
They'd just had a decent bit before Canada where everything had been too busy for training. He and Oscar had done some bouncing around, not having the chance to do much sim work. They'd needed to film content and hadn't really had time to be puppies.
Lando hadn't been fucked since the Monaco celebration. He'd only briefly been allowed a plug in Spain. Not in between Spain and Canada. He wasn't trusted with toys by himself. Not when Will wasn't there to watch him. Jon was apparently too lenient. Lando definitely disagreed, but no one asked his opinion about that. He doubted anyone even cared.
The point was, even though the toy inside Oscar was relatively small, it made Lando all the more aware that he was empty and he'd been empty for too long.
Lando liked fucking — hell, he loved fucking. Every time he got to sink his cock into Oscar felt like heaven. But Lando also liked to be fucked just fine. When he got fucked, it meant that he was good; deserved it. It also helped a lot that it felt real damn nice. He'd leaned to like it and even crave it over the years.
He liked being a team puppy just fine.
He'd probably never leave McLaren anyways. Team loyalty and all. So it didn't really matter.
(Maybe one day if he was good enough, they could do away with the cock cages and the crates. Then he'd really be a happy puppy.)
So Lando was a bit put out that he was locked in his crate and empty. They hadn't even bothered to shove a plug into him like they normally did. He didn't get it. The team loved to shove stuff inside them whether or not they were being punished. What was so different about today?
Was it because they were fighting for the championship? Was that really it?
Lando rocked slightly on his knees, sitting back and squirming. His cock twitched within its confines, his balls pulsing with need.
Oscar was panting where he still paid prone on the floor. Well, panting as much as the muzzle allowed. His bangs were plastered to his forehead and his legs shook. His hips ground back just a bit and then suddenly Oscar was rigid.
His eyes rolled back into his skull, his back arching. Lando's eyes practically flew between the Australian's legs. His cock — trapped in its cage as it was — kicked and drooled, spurting out white globs of cum that dripped down his pulsing balls and shiny perineum. The skin of his crotch was all ruddy and flushed.
The toy was still moving inside of Oscar, not letting up on its intensity at all as Oscar shook through his orgasm.
It seemed to go on forever, although Lando knew that it couldn't have been longer than a minute in reality. Eventually Oscar slumped though. Mercifully, the vibrations of the toy decreased as Oscar melted a bit.
But they didn't stop.
Oscar made a small noise, craning his head up to look at Andrea.
It was Zak who answered. "aw come on, Osc. You can't really think we'd be done at only one orgasm. This is a punishment after all. And for a DNF! Caused by crashing into a teammate. A pretty serious offense."
Oscar was breathing harshly, neck bent strangely as he continued to stare up at the bosses. Lando couldn't see the look in his eyes, but he could guess. Disbelief, anger, fear even.
Oscar was still shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Lando could tell that it didn't quite hurt yet, but he knew that that point would be soon. It never took too long to feel overstimulation set in. For now, Oscar still laid there like a good puppy. The milky cum continued to leak and drip form his cage.
Distantly, Lando though he heard the sound of some of the mechanics beginning to jerk themselves off to the sight.
They weren't allowed to touch him or Oscar unless they were given the explicit go ahead by Zak, Andrea, or their handlers. Only sometimes were they allowed free access to the team puppies. They may belong to the team, but there were rules.
This was a punishment. For now, neither he nor Oscar had earned the touch of the team.
But the team deserved some kind of recompense for having to fix all the damage that Lando had done to their cars (and the brush that Oscar had had during the free practices), didn't they? That was usually why Zak and Andrea let them have him and Oscar. They liked to show off how well trained they were; make them do tricks for the team. Most of the time they weren't allowed to do more than platonic touching.
He and Osc were working dogs. They needed to focus on their jobs.
Other times though, the team was allowed to use them — not as a reward for them, but because one of them had been bad and earned it. They had to apologize. With their bodies.
Lando didn't know if that would be the case this time. He thought maybe Oscar would protest that. He seemed so much twitchier this time around. He'd had to be muzzled. Oscar didn't believe he deserved to be punished, and really, Lando couldn't blame him.
He was taking Lando's punishment after all.
Oscar actually made a noise this time when the vibrations of the toy turned back up. It was a small little squeak — something cute even. His eyebrows were scrunched together, head tipping backward involuntarily. It made his collar dig into his thick neck. Not bad enough to cut off his airways even a little bit, but it was enough to cause bruising if they weren't careful.
They had another 2 weeks until Austria, but the both of them were requested at various functions for McLaren. If there were bruises they'd need one hell of makeup artist or they would catch a lot of flack.
Oscar's thighs slammed shut abruptly, his hands clawing at the ground. He made another small noise. It was all throat, sounding strangled and pained. Yeah, overstimulation had set in.
Lando knew how much it burned. How strange the feeling could be as it built up inside with seemingly no outlet. Oscar wasn't even able to get hard — not caged up as he was. Lando was sure that he was now dripping precum though.
Tom wrapped the leash once around his hand before leaning over Oscar, worming a hand between Oscar's thighs. Will had disappeared from the younger man's side at some point. Probably when he came for the first time.
Tom's fingertips dug into Oscar' skin, yanking one thigh outward. Oscar's other leg leaned over, but it was pretty useless at covering anything despite the thickness of the limb.
Oscar's chest was heaving again; his nipples pebbled in the cool air, standing out starkly against his pale chest.
This time, Oscar's orgasm came quicker, or maybe Lando just got lost in watching Oscar.
He writhed on the ground, legs fighting Tom's grip for all the good that did him. He let out a sweet, muffled cry, hips convulsing at the feeling.
The buzzing didn't slow down this time.
Oscar let out an agonized sound, seemingly giving up on hiding his reactions now. His hands flew down to grab between his legs. Lando saw the flash of his fingers trembling at the base of the toy.
In a flash, Will appeared and grabbed his wrist. Tom grabbing the other. They weren't gentle as they wrenched his hands away from his hole and up to his shoulders. Oscar made a frustrated sound. His legs slammed shut again, heels coming into try and cover his hole from view now that there wasn't physically anything holding him open.
"Bad puppy!" Will scolded harshly. "You know you're not allowed to touch yourself. Ever."
Lando shrank back in his cage at the tone. It scared him a bit, the harshness. Will sounded genuinely angry.
Andrea sighed, rubbing a hand at him temple. "Oscar, what are we to do with you?"
Oscar continued to shake and struggle, his head thrashing back and forth. Lando's breath caught in his chest at the sight.
It was obvious that Oscar was panicking. His struggling wasn't all that pointed, more instinctive than anything. It was easy to combat.
Will and Tom leaned their weight onto Oscar's arms, easily combating any difference in strength between them and Oscar. They didn't have enough leverage to do anything about Oscar's legs though. He didn't kick out though. His legs just remained clamped together and scrunched up. His thighs were visibly seizing.
"I suppose it's time to move things along," Zak said, clapping his hands together.
Oscar's head jerked to the side, the top of his cheek (the only part of it not covered by the muzzle) pressed against the ground. His eyes were clouded and hazy. Lando wasn't confident that he was all there anymore. He just blinked, his cheeks squished visibly.
That's when Lando noticed some of the others were moving around. Men from his side of the garage moved towards Oscar, completely ignoring Lando. They moved quickly, taking a hold of Oscar's legs.
Oscar's head shot up in response, craning down to see if he could see what was happening. More engineers descended onto him, pulling his legs apart and away from his crotch. Oscar's thick thighs were flexed, straining against the hold that the engineers had on him. Oscar was strong, but he was still small compared to guys on the pit crew. Another came over and took over holding Oscar's arms from Tom who took a step back from it all.
"Alright, up we go," Tom grunted.
He slipped his hands — one still holding Oscar's leash — under Oscar's shoulders and along his upper back. Will and the engineer who had taken over Tom's previous position moved in sync with Tom, helping him lift Oscar's torso.
As soon as they shifted him off of his back even a bit onto his ass, Oscar's head flew backward. A loud cry tore through him, his eyes squeezed shut. The change in position must have rocked the toy inside of him and then put the pressure of his weight on it. His plush ass squished against the floor under his weight, doing nothing to help.
After he was sat fully on his ass, Oscar wouldn't stop making small sounds. Small whimpers and moans caught behind the muzzle. Oscar's head kind of just drooped, his neck going weak. It was like he didn't have the strength to keep upright. Tom was supporting him like he was a limp doll.
His skin looked tacky and shiny with sweat. Between his legs was a mess of watery cum. His legs were bent around beneath him by the engineers until he was more kneeling than sitting. Lando could see the moment that it took Oscar's weight off of the toy. His breath seemed to shudder with it. His chest kept heaving, nostrils flaring. Every movement seemed taxing on his system, oxygen hard to come by despite the fact that his nose remained uncovered and his airway remained unblocked.
Oscar's hands were moved behind his back, one wrist crossed over the other. Lando watched as rope was produced and used to tie Oscar's hands there. Once bound, Oscar seemed to slump into the hands holding him up in this new position. He'd lost the energy to struggle.
He was lifted a bit, people shuffling around a little to get a better hold of him now that his arms were tied behind his back. His bent legs were nudged apart, knees sliding across the ground, making his pale skin red.
"You got him?"
"Yeah. Heavier than I thought though."
"Well, it's not like he's really helping all that much."
"Poor thing."
The mechanics and engineers murmured to each other as they shifted Oscar around. They kept him aloft, lifted off of both his ass and his calves but not fully up on his knees. Oscar looked real out of it.
Tom shuffled backward a bit before his hand disappeared between Oscar's legs. Lando could tell the instant Tom touched the toy. Oscar jerked and let out a squeak. He actually squeaked.
Tome carefully slid the toy out of Oscar, the damn thing still buzzing even as it left Oscar. Well, that confirmed that Tom wasn't the one with the remote. Not that that information mattered.
Oscar began to cry.
Tears dripped from his eyes over his trembling, rosy cheeks. He looked pitiful. He looked like something right out of a painting. Oscar didn't seem to register that he was crying.
Oscar swallowed thickly, his thighs squeezing a little. Oscar always looked so pretty when he cried. He wasn't an ugly crier like Lando was. Jewel-like tears just beaded up along his lash line before tumbling down flushed skin. When Lando cried, he managed to look like a drenched cat somehow.
There was a novelty to Oscar's tears too. He was never quick to cry. It made getting him to that point that much more special.
Lando couldn't see Oscar's hole anymore, but he could still catch the tremors as they passed through Oscar's buttock. He slowly rolled his head up until he could level a stare at Andrea, his whimpers tapering off now that the toy was no longer inside of him.
There was movement behind Oscar. Two engineers were carrying over a black box-like thing. It had sloped contours, looking more like modern art than anything. It was covered in vinyl or maybe leather. There was some kind of metal piston-like thing at the top of a mount. It looked like a strange home version of a sybian if Lando was going to be honest.
It was placed down on the ground behind Oscar, Tom moving out of the way so that it could be slid closer to the Australian.
"Are you sure you want this attachment, boss?" one of the men holding Oscar asked. Lando couldn't see who. He was glancing over his shoulders at where the machine(?) was being set up. Lando glanced over too and his eyes widened.
They were fitting an absolutely massive dildo onto the piston.
It wasn't like their knotting toys which Lando had thought were already big this year. It wasn't like, impossible, but Lando knew just sliding it in would have Oscar feeling it for days. The toy that had just wrung 2 orgasms out of Oscar seemed pitiful by comparison. The dildo wasn't alien or even dog-like, but it did have ridges and bumps up the wide length. It would not be easy to take.
Andrea met Oscar's gaze. "Yes," he said. "He can take it."
The engineer who had asked glanced hesitantly between the dildo and Andrea, but ultimately didn't offer any other protests. He just worked with Will to lift Oscar's slumped form higher onto his knees.
The new position let the other two slide the sybian-fuck machine cross thing between Oscar's legs. Lando could see now the grooves where Oscar's legs would automatically settle into. The base of it was wide enough to push Oscar's thighs even further apart. He watched with morbid fascination as the tendons in Oscar's pelvis jumped.
They poured lube over the dildo before adjusting it so that the tip just kissed Oscar's hole, disappearing between Oscar's ass cheeks.
Oscar's breath visibly caught in his chest.
On some silent unknown signal, the people holding Oscar up began to lower him, letting gravity and Oscar's own body weight force his hole to open up and take it.
It felt like Lando was the one who couldn't breathe. He held his breath as he watched every inch of the dildo disappear into Oscar. He couldn't believe he was watching this happen. Even with all his experience, this all felt so surreal.
Oscar made this horrible throaty scream. The muzzle did barely anything to muffle the sound. Lando had heard Oscar make many sounds over the last 2 and a half years, but never like this.
Oscar wasn't stretched or relaxed. He'd had 2 orgasms — something he knew that Oscar hadn't really pushed past before due to McLaren preferring denial and edging with him. That should have made him more relaxed and loose, but being stimulated without break meant that he was now solidly overstimulated. It was more pain than pleasure; if there even was any pleasure. His insides were sensitive and tense. A horrible combination for taking a toy like that. Yet somehow he took it.
His abdomen spasmed as his ass settled fully onto the machine. Lando's eyes zoomed over to the younger man's stomach and choked on his own spit when he saw that there actually was a little bump below his belly button.
Holy shit.
"Took that like a champ, Osc," came Zak's grating voice.
Oscar keened loudly in response.
"Look, Lando. Isn't he taking it so well?" Zak continued. "Speak."
Oscar's head rolled until he was looking in Lando's direction. His gaze was even hazier than before and it made Lando's throat go dry. He couldn't stop staring at the image Oscar made before him in horrified arousal. His hands clenched at the material of the puppy pads he was sitting on. He wanted nothing more than to touch Oscar; kiss him, pet his hair, and tell him everything was okay. Oscar just looked so fractured.
"He's beautiful," he whispered helplessly.
"Isn't he?" Zak laughed. "He's taking your punishment, Lando. Show a little gratitude, won't you?"
Lando swallowed thickly. Shame burned deep inside of him. This was his fault. If Lando hand' screwed up so monumentally, then Oscar probably would have been let off with a few spanks and not being allowed to cum for his P4 result. But no. The team was punishing Lando by punishing Oscar. He hated how well it was working.
He felt like shit, watching Oscar tremble and cry how he was.
"Thank you, Osc."
Oscar panted, not pulling his eyes away from Lando.
"A little peaky there, Osc?" Zak asked. "You've only had 2 orgasms, champ. Surely you can handle a bit more."
And because Lando apparently sucked, hearing Zak refer to Oscar as 'champ' made something ugly settle into Lando's chest. Lando knew it was probably a reference to Oscar's F3 and F2 titles, not the F1 title, but it didn't feel that way.
It felt like Lando wasn't even worth the effort to punish anymore. He wasn't learning. What was the point in correcting him? Oscar was going to be McLaren's new champion; their new favourite.
Their good puppy.
Lando hated himself for the burning jealousy in his gut. Oscar was in pain because of him and he was jealous. God, how selfish could he be?
The hands that were all over Oscar began retreating. First, the ones on his legs. They hadn't been doing much restraining anyways. Not since they'd folded his legs how they did. Oscar didn't have the strength to pull himself up. His legs almost formed a 'W', no doubt straining his knees. Flexible, Oscar was not.
Then Will and the other engineers also went away, and Oscar was left to hold himself up.
He wavered in place, stomach trembling. With his legs bent and arms bound the way that they were, Oscar was forced to rely solely on his exhausted core to keep him upright. Maybe the toy actually helped. It'd looked pretty rigid when Oscar slid down onto it and it went so deep inside of him. Any slump was rendered incredibly awkward. Would the toy even allow him to slump too far in any direction without injury?
No, Zak and Andrea wouldn't do anything that could actually injure Oscar, right? He was the championship leader. He was the one who had won half the races of the season so far. There was no way McLaren would jeopardize his performance.
but Lando had never expected this to happen either. He didn't know anything anymore.
Tom released Oscar's leash, letting it fall to the floor. Oscar barely noticed, eyebrows scrunched from the concentration it took to remain upright.
Then Oscar was left alone on the floor, impaled on the huge dildo. Every engineer and mechanic had backed away, forming a loose circle around the edges of the room. Lando still had a front row view.
Oscar struggled to pick his head up again, but he did manage it. He looked up at Andrea, his breathing practically echoing through the room.
"You have to hold yourself up now, Oscar," Andrea told him calmly, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips. For the first time, Lando thought Andrea looked cruel. "The rules are still the same — you don't need permission to cum."
Oscar blinked slowly at him. He didn't so much as shift a muscle.
Andrea didn't seem to be expected any kind of acknowledgement.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lando spotted Zak's hand more in his pocket.
The machine Oscar was trapped on whirred to life. It didn't buzz, it chugged. It was fucking the dildo in and out of Oscar.
Oscar shrieked.
There was no other way to describe the sound. It tore itself from Oscar's chest seemingly without Oscar even being aware. It was high pitched and pained. It rattled through Lando's skull.
Oscar shook violently as the machine fucked him relentlessly. His cock was so angry and sore looking, smacking against the cage with every jolt. It drooled nonstop, adding more to the mess between his legs, making the machine and his thighs sticky. Oscar howled with the motion, chest hunching just a bit inward but ultimately remaining upright. His head hung forward, tears pouring down his face and dripping down between his spread legs into the mess. Lando thought his nose was running too, but all the fluids sort of just blurred together. He shook violently, his whole body trembling.
Lando could even see the way that the small bulge in Oscar's naval shrunk and punched back out over and over again.
He made such horrible, wounded sounds that he actually sounded like a dog. Like a real dog.
Lando's own cock struggled to harden within the confines of its cage.
When Oscar came, it was with a hoarse yell and barely any cum leaving his cock. Oscar just spasmed like he was having a seizure.
He was screaming, crying. Huge heaving sobs leaving his body. Lando could barely believe that Oscar was breathing.
The machine didn't let up at all.
"—'lease, 'lease, 'lease!"
It was muffled and hard to understand, the pleading stuck behind a locked jaw and leather muzzle. It was slurred and shrieked, but Lando could still hear it.
"'top, 'lease stop!"
Oscar's head shook frantically, his voice sounded shredded. Andrea, Zak — hell, everyone — just watched impassively as Oscar suffered. It was like Oscar wasn't even human to them anymore.
Lando couldn't take it anymore.
"Please stop!" he begged. "You've made your point."
Zak smiled at him. "We need to make sure it really sinks in, buddy. Oscar's fine."
Lando was panicked. Oscar was not fine. Noe of this was fine. "Please, he's had enough. Please just let him go. It wasn't even his mistake!"
Andrea sighed, ignoring Oscar's increasingly incoherent pleads. He looked Lando in the eyes. "This is why we went with this, Lando. Much more effective than just punishing you. You don't want this to happen again, do you?"
"Please."
"Then you won't keep making these kinds of mistakes," Andrea said sternly. "This result is unacceptable."
"It won't, it won't. Just stop"
Andrea just stared at him impassively. Lando couldn't see any satisfaction or any regret in his face. It was just… nothing. Then he turned back to watch Oscar.
The Australian was now making these breathless gasping noises. It almost sounded like he was choking. And yet no one did anything.
Oscar shuddered once and then… his body just went slack. It was like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. The only sounds now were laboured breathing. He slumped a bit to the side, the angle of the bulge of his stomach changing as he slumped.
The pounding of the machine slowed to a stop and then went quiet.
Lando choked back a cry of his own.
"Well," Zak sighed, checking his watch. "That went on for longer than I expected."
It was like that was a cue for people to move. Tom and a few others moved forward, taking careful hold of Oscar's limp body and slowly easing him off of the dildo. It made a gross wet noise as it left Oscar's body. Lando was able to catch a glimpse of his puffy and red hole. It looked like it'd been used and fucked for hours.
They lowered him to the floor, one of them untying his hands so that they could lay him flat. Tom made quick work of the buckles on the muzzle and then he peeled it ff.
Oscar's face was slack in its unconscious state. His skin was red and flushed from the heat and exertion. There were deep red grooves in his face from where the edges of the muzzle had dug into his flesh. They looked like they hurt. Lando hoped that they didn't bruise.
They didn't wipe Oscar down. Instead, Will came forward with a plug — smaller than the dildo, but not as small as the first toy — and pushed it into Oscar's sore looking hole. It filled him enough not to fall out despite the gape that Oscar had now.
Lando made a small noise and was ignored.
He heard a clank next to him and saw an engineer — this one Lando knew to be from Oscar's side of the garage — opening Oscar's crate. Quickly and efficiently, he pulled out the blanket that was in there and replaced it with a thick looking towel.
They weren't going to… they wouldn't—
Tom, Will, and a few others carefully balanced Oscar's unconscious body between them and carried him over to the crate. They slid him in inelegantly until he lay on the towel in a crumpled heap. His limbs were askew, thighs painted with his own cum. They locked the door of his crate too.
Lando stared, wide eyed, at Oscar's slack face. It was laid at a strange angle. His collar dug into his neck.
"Jon and Artturi will meet the two of you at the hotel," Will said, vaguely directing his statement. Lando's way. They didn't wait for Lando's response. He didn't give any.
He just kept staring at Oscar's limp form.
He didn't look away or acknowledge when his crate (with him inside) was picked up and moved onto a wheeled cart. They quickly followed suit with Oscar's crate.
"Try not to make any noise. You know the drill."
Their crates were covered by a thick, black equipment blanket. Lando's vision became useless in the dark. He slowly laid down, knowing that soon they would be moved; wheeled out of the paddock. Lando didn't want to fall over.
He slid a hand towards the bars of his crate, worming his fingers through the holes and trying to reach into Oscar's crate. He couldn't get very far. Oscar was too far away. The only way he could tell that Oscar was there at all was his faint breathing.
He slammed his eyes shut hard enough to see stars and tried to pretend that it was sweat dripping down the side of his face.