From Ian Fleming's "Live and Let Die"
CHAPTER 7
(Of Solitaire, complicitly siding with 007 in Mr. Big's Harlem headquarters.)
She watched his eyes on her and nonchalantly drew her forearms together in her lap so that the valley between her breasts deepened.
The message was unmistakable and an answering warmth must have showed on Bond’s cold, drawn face, for suddenly The Big Man picked up the small ivory whip from the desk beside him and lashed across at her, the thong whistling through the air and landing with a cruel bite across her shoulders.
Bond winced even more than she did. Her eyes blazed for an instant and then went opaque.
© 1954 by Glidrose Productions Ltd.