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There were a lot of things about being a McLaren team puppy that Lando really liked.
He liked how it was an extra layer of belonging to the team. The McLaren orange collar he wore with the team tags on it was a nice reminder that he was the team's. They owned him; they took care of him. Being a team puppy meant that he was treated like something cute, eager, and precious. There was no shortage in affection that the team showed him — especially since he was new.
He liked getting fucked and sucking people off. He had a high libido, and the team met his needs so well. So what if he'd been a little blindsided by the arrangement at first. He kind of liked the freedom being a puppy gave him. He didn't need to worry about a lot of decision making Will and the team took care of most things for him. He was just a silly, dumb puppy.
Of course, there were things he disliked too.
He didn't like how he always had to have his cock caged up. He was young! He got hard — or tried to get hard — if a breeze blew the wrong way. Wearing the cage made that hurt. He didn't like hoe he wasn't allowed to touch himself or make himself cum either. He wanted it… a lot. And while the team was usually willing to indulge him, it wasn't free or in his control. He wanted more than he got.
But he was cute and eager, so he weaseled his way into more orgasms than he 'deserved' so he made due.
What Lando really hated was the crate.
At the end of the day, Lando was human. This was all just role play — a way for the team to maintain a hierarchy with the drivers since they sort of existed outside of the traditional one. He liked the collar, and the head pats, and even the crawling! He didn't like the crate.
It was an actual metal dog crate — like meant for greyhound sized dogs. Literal dogs.
His was smaller than Carlos'. Carlos was bigger than him in general, so that was probably why, but that didn't change the fact that Lando resented it.
It was cramped and uncomfortable. He had to hunch like a gargoyle if he wanted to sit and there wasn't enough room for his legs to lay flat. Even being on all fours was too much to do comfortably in the crate.
And that was without going into how uncomfortable the bottom of the cage was.
The crate had some kind of hard plastic base that the metal bars were attached to. It was slightly textured for grip or something, but that meant it dug into Lando's skin harshly. His knees hurt only moments after being on it.
And he was always left inside for hours!
No amount of whining ever shortened his time in the crate. Lando was honestly convinced the more he complained, the longer he was left.
He hated it. He hated how he was just… put in the crate and then left in some room. There wasn't even anyone there to watch him. He couldn't believe that he was literally an adult and being put on a time out. It was humiliating.
It made him anxious.
He knew that they weren't really just going to leave him there forever but… what if they did? What if they just forgot about him and he was left naked and alone in a fucking dog crate for days? It made a horrible panic grow inside of him.
He'd been in the crate for 6 hours this time. It'd been only moderately less than that since Will had left the room to take a call. At least Lando could see a clock. He'd proper lose his mind if he was just… stuck there, unable to tell how long it had been.
He'd been put in the crate pretty much as soon as he'd gotten to the MTC. Will had told Lando that it was to be a busy day and that he needed to be kept out of the way so he didn't cause any distractions — or trouble.
The obvious solution was apparently the crate that was used when Lando was just too hyper or too much to handle and that Lando so loathed. But Lando was trying out being good, so he'd only complained a little about going into the crate. He'd whined while undressing and sitting to get his collar locked on, but Will hadn't budged.
(Lando would get the race engineer to break one day. He'd keep trying until he did.)
Lando had still ended up in the uncomfortable cramped crate. Then Will had left.
At first, Lando hadn't been too bothered. Will had stepped out for a phone call. How long would that possibly take? But then time continued to pass and the door remained closed. Lando was even mostly confident that Will had locked the door.
What even was the point of that? Lando was literally locked into the crate with a whole padlock. he was naked save for his collar and cock cage. He wasn't going to be getting out without help.
Did he lock the door so that no one could get in? So that no one could help him?
Lando didn't understand.
He ended up rubbing his knees a little raw, kneeling and 'pacing' within the confines of the crate. He couldn't move all that much, but he was antsy and restless. He couldn't stay still either. So he 'paced' as much as he could, rolling around when that inevitably got him nowhere.
No position was comfortable and while time kept passing, it passed so slowly. His only time indicator was the clock just visible on the wall. There were no windows and the lights were all that too-bright overhead LEDs. He couldn't hear anything from outside the room either. The room was soundproofed.
It was like torture.
He tried howling at hour 3.
"Jon!" he yelped, tentatively at first. "Will?!"
But his cries earned no response, and then he tried wailing.
"Please! Anyone?! Help me! Don't leave me here!"
He yelled himself hoarse, pleading for someone — anyone — to walk though the door. He didn't want to be alone. He'd accept it if they didn't let him out, he just didn't want to be alone anymore.
The walls were so clinical and white. The overhead lights were too bright and he was cold. The crate was uncomfortable and his knees were red and aching.
It was only a few moments — couldn't be longer than 30 minutes — after he'd given up on yelling when he felt the first twinges in his gut, his bladder.
He hadn't gone to the bathroom since he'd gotten to the MTC.
Fuck.
It would be fine. He just needed to hold out. Ignore the urge until it went away. He could do it.
But every time he moved or even shifted in place, he felt the twinge. Pain was building up in his bladder and it was like the more he tried to ignore it, the more his brain latched onto the feeling. He just couldn't stop. It was all that was on his mind.
"Uh, hey! I like, really need to go to the loo. Like really badly!"
He tried screaming some more, but that just made his gut hurt more. The feeling was becoming more and more urgent. It made his panic and anxiety grow.
He was pretty sure that he'd read somewhere that it was really bad to hold in your pee. Like, the bladder could explode or something. Lando couldn't afford for that to happen!
It was why the mechanics didn't give them too much shit if they pissed in the car. Sometimes you just couldn't help it! Not that Lando had done it himself before…
He squirmed in place, thighs pressed together as if that would help him hold on. It didn't do much, but what else could he do? He was trapped. All he could do was wait and hope that someone would come let him out.
He laid somewhat curled on his side, desperately trying to keep himself distracted. It was almost the end of the work day,a nd the MTC was about to get a lot emptier. His odds of being found just kept going down.
A few times, he thought he may have heard footsteps outside and he scrabbled up on all fours, but the door remained closed and Lando's bladder protested even more at the sudden movements.
He trembled in place, hands clenched into fists. He had an awful, sinking feeling in his gut — he wasn't going to make it.
He was going to piss himself.
He'd held it in for so long but he had been left in his crate and it hurt. He trembled and shook like a damn dog.
A small trickle leaked out of his tip.
He whimpered, thighs slamming shut again, squishing his balls up and against the metal of his cock cage. Piss dribbled pathetically from his tip.
"No, no, no," he whispered to himself, desperately clenching down to try and stop it.
But it'd been too long and that little dribble had spelled his doom. The dribble turned into a trickle, and then his entire bladder was emptying itself. Stark warmth trailed down his clenched thighs and pooled on the bottom of the crate around his knees.
He sniffled, shoulders slumping in defeat even as relief overwhelmed his senses. He hadn't realized just how much it'd actually hurt until his body was forced to let go.
The puddle was thankfully small, but he could tell the way it slicked his cock, balls, and thighs. He was kneeling in it.
"Disgusting."
Lando flinched, looking up to see that Will had finally come back. He was standing in the open doorway, arms crossed over his chest and a stern look on his face. The disappointment stung sharply.
"Couldn't hold it even for a few hours? You just had to make a mess like a bad puppy," Will continued. "I come back, expecting to find my good puppy only to be greeted with this," he huffed.
Lando sniffled again, fighting to hold his tears in as Will just stared down at him.
"I didn't mean to—"
"Ah! Dogs don't talk," Will snapped, interrupting him. "You know that Carlos doesn't have these problems, right?"
Lando flinched back again, but fell silent. A few slid down his cheek. He let out a small, mournful whimper.
He didn't want Will to be mad at him. It wasn't his fault! He'd been left so long…
"I don't know what I expected," Will sighed, moving deeper into the room. He didn't fully close the door though. Anyone walking past could hear. "You're just a stupid puppy. Can't be trusted to control your own bladder."
Lando whined. He didn't move though, staying kneeling in his own cooling puddle of piss.
"And now I have to clean this up," Will grumbled. "Zak will not be pleased about this, Lando. We thought you were better behaved."
Lando shrunk even further in on himself.
He wanted to say he was sorry — beg for forgiveness. But if he talked, he'd just make Will even more upset at him. He didn't mean to make a mess.
"Right. Well, I expect not another peep out of you. No more misbehaving either. You already have quite the punishment ahead of you."
The next time Lando saw his crate, it was no longer empty. Instead, lining the textured plastic base were bright blue puppy pads.
Zak patted his shoulder when he noticed Lando staring at it. "In case you have another… accident."