A couple visits a dominatrix for marriage counseling. Yes, the premise is trite, but it's at least tolerable. What's hardly tolerable, however, is the flick itself.
Not even Mistress Payton manages to keep a straight face while she's trying to order around the hapless couple, who have come to her for advice. And the couple manages to swing seamlessly back-and-forth between looking miserably bored and giggling at the stupidity of the scenes they're trying to participate in. At several points they try to pantomime sex acts and neither of them can manage to keep the laughter under wraps.
It begs the question: If you can't manage to turn on the people in the flick, why bother subjecting the rest of us to it?