Hi, another story. Let me know what you think.

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After five years, Lisa was leaving the garage for a new job. She worked in the after sales team. However things had been on the quiet front for her leaving event - her colleagues like to go all out.

Lisa was a bit of a joker in her time, cling film on the lads toilets, salt instead of sugar in coffee, that kind of thing. They were yet to get her back, she knew what to expect so often saw it coming.

As usual, Lisa was dressed in skirt and jacket, white blouse and heels. Under her outfit, she lacy knickers and bra and stockings - tights were uncomfortable in the warm office - plus she like to tease the lads with a glimpse of thigh or welt. Nevertheless, she was always the professional; she got the work done and made sure the customers were happy.

She was working away, finishing off the last of her tasks when Dave popped his head round the door. "Can you give me a hand?" he said. "Steve has buggered off".

"I need you to help me with the camera for this inspection. Won't take a sec" he said.

They went out into the garage, Dave tossed her the camera. She had done this many times when time was tight. She filmed when Dave pointed as he did his narrative taking care not to scuff her shoes or dirty her outfit.

As they stopped under the engine, a pair of dirty hands grabbed hers. Dave took the camera off her and turned it around. Another pair of hands proceeded to tie her hands to the engine block with a pair of stockings. What is going on here? She thought.

The ramp then whired and clanked as it was raised higer till her arms were pulled staright above her.

She looked around, all the mechanics and everyone else from the garage was there to watch the spectacle. Even a couple of customers watched from the viewing room.

"A little birdy told use you were leaving. Did you think you could just leave quietly?" Dave said. "I think not".

He stepped forward with a spanner and removed the sump plug from the engine block above her. Dirty oil oozed out, pouring into her hair, down her face and into the back of her blouse and down her cleavage. As her blouse was tucked in, the black oil pooled at the waist line, then poured out onto her feet. There was a cheer and a clap.

Once the sump was empty, she thought it was over.

She looked up and Dave came over with a bucket. What now? she thought. Dave tipped the bucket over her head. There was another cheer. It was cold milky coffee with salt in it! Damn she thought, they were getting her back.

Lisa considered her predicament. Her hair was matted, she looked down at her ruined outfit, just as well she had her running stuff in her locker.

There was a splat on her stomach. A lump of grease dirtied a bit of her blouse not yet dirty. Splat, and hit her thigh. Then again and again as the machanics threw handfuls of grease at her. God she was filty. The customers in the viewing room cheered them on!

Dave walked up to her. "You have a bit of dirt on you" he said "let me clean you up a little."

Dave had the presure washer in his hand. He turned it on - thankfully at a lower power than used on the cars - and proceeded to try and clean her up. It was powerful enough to rip open her blouse and tear her stockings to shreads.

Dave looked satisfied that she was clean, although she looked far from it.

"Good luck in your new job". He untied her and everyone cheered and there was a round of applause. "Thanks" Lisa muttered as she went off to get cleaned up. As she walked accross the garage, she walked with head up high and straightened up her jacket to muster up what dignity she had left.