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He ran his calloused hands over her form, appreciating her curves and solid construction. Some of her paint had chipped off of the edges but she was still an eye catcher, hanging from an antique trunk and tempting all who could see. 

Pulling out an old leather locksmith wallet, he carefully selected a spring torsion wrench. Before he inserted it into the lower portion of her slot, he ran his thumb up and down the brass fitting, making sure she wasn't frozen stiff from years of neglect. With a grunt, he smiled when he felt her button respond, wiggling slightly to show she was ready for him.

Slowly, with delicate care, he inserted the torsion spring and gave it a slight tweak clockwise. He could feel her tumblers responding as they clamped themselves against the groove in the key shaft. His years of experience came into play at this point, instinctively knowing she liked to be handled roughly, her commercial chassis ready to take on all comers.

He selected his most aggressive rake and plunged it into her keyhole without any lubrication. It was unexpected and sudden; two tumblers were set even before she could think about what was happening. With a steady rhythm, he began to ram the rake in and out, making sure to rub against her sensitive tumbler pins. The feeling was overwhelming. She held out for as long as she could until she finally released, her hasp springing forth as her tumbler pins lined up perfectly to his manipulations.

...

"Wow, dude, that was fast. How much?"

The locksmith looked at the old lock in his hand. "Fifty bucks or ten and this old lock."

"Dude, she's yours. Thanks, man!"

Iron Noder 2017

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