The whip cracks, a dude moans; is it pleasure or pain he's feeling? Is there even a difference? Well, to any submissive worth his weight in salty tears, there isn't much. And the safe, sane, and consensual art of domination and submission (D/S) is, in its purist sense, pretty much absent from the silver screen — though it's a taboo topic that's freely mocked, misunderstood and derided in mainstream film.

Emma Peel paved the way for mainstream proto-dommes — and fueled testosterone fantasies around the globe — on '60s TV show The Avengers. Her comely frame and form-fitting leather bodysuit left just enough to the imagination, didn't it? But she was all about femme power as much as her persona was about tension and tease; a campy, action-heroine pinup in fetishized garb, one that resonated long and loud. That persona returned in force with the gothic attire of Aeon Flux, Underworld, Elektra, The Matrix, etc. And the garb with the most influence in recent cinematic history belongs to Michelle Pfeiffer's Cat Woman in Batman Returns — her PVC cat suit has decorated the covers of myriad fetish magazines.

With whip in hand and liberated libido, Cat Woman could've been a force with which to reckon. However, unfortunately, she was declawed by her psychosis and rampant need for a man (in a bat suit). Like so many other apparent dommes of the

Whether they're 24/7 dommes or kinky women, pimple-faced comedies have been home to a host of frighteningly powerful gals in recent years (EuroTrip, Tomcats [above], American Wedding). But these appearances are punchlines with the dominatrix personifying an "über-femme," a device meant to scare the bejeezus out of boys and insecure men. These male characters can't even deal with "regular" females, how will handle whip-wielding women who take what they want? By running away, penises tucked between their legs, that's how! The D/S lifestyle is an easy target for laughs and is used in film to parody our expected gender roles. Men are seen as weak and women ball-busting psychos.

Penned as erotica, Anne Rice's Exit to Eden was unsuccessfully grafted onto a comedic espionage plot, resulting in something that resembled The Story of O as a hot slapstick mess. Adapted by Bob Brunner and Deborah Amelon in 1994, there are few intersections between the adult story of Mistress Lisa (Dana Delany), her new submissive Elliot (Paul Mecurio) and the bad plot. Even people who'd disavow genital torture might rethink it if given the option between that and enduring Rosie O'Donnell and Dan Aykroyd in a tacked-on bit involving international intrigue on an island of dominants and submissives.  The schtick is laid on so thick and the depiction of D/S so stilted, that any shred of erotica is as muted as a ball-gagged subbie. The film exemplifies a common

Exit to Eden is an American rarity. The majority of dominatrix roles are found in foreign fare with the most famous being Bulle Ogier in Maîtresse. An artful Barbet Schroeder exploitation film provides a proper tour guide for an intimate exploration of D/S. Released in 1976, the sexual revolution of the '60s and '70s gave more screen time to D/S than it had ever gotten before. The party would be over by the '80s with D/S safely tucked back into the cinematic closet.

Lingering on the outskirts of cinema, D/S boasts porn auteurs and hacks taking swipes at the subject. The best explorer of fetishes, Maria Beatty, has provided a steady stream of artfully-directed films which spotlight subjects such as tickling (Box of Laughter), spanking (The Elegant Spanking), medical fetishism (Doctor's Orders), punk fetish (Skateboard Kink Freak [DVD cover, above]) and other taboo topics.

charged examination of power exchange, the protagonist, Lee Holloway (Maggie Gyllenhaal) seems to suppress her need for self-mutilation via spanking. Everything turns out for the best in the end, but initiating the D/S relationship between Holloway and her boss, Edward E. Grey

In Walk All Over Me, D/S is far more ancillary to the plot and merely a means to an end for the two main female characters. When Alberta (Leelee Sobieski, right, looking like the love child of Helen Hunt & Chloë Sevigny) runs away from her dead-end life she arrives on the doorstep of Celene (Tricia Helfer), a Vancouver dominatrix.

 It doesn't take long until Alberta — who's known for "jumping from one mess to another" — dons some shiny leather boots and pretends to be Celene for a new client, Paul (Jacob Tierney). She inexplicably falls head over heels for him in a matter of minutes, shortly before learning that he's involved with some dangerous dudes from Ontario. This begins a convoluted plot involving stolen money, ruined expectations and bondage.

Be it sensual or sexual, D/S eludes explanation because much of it takes place above the neck and not below the waist. A wonderful alternative to copulation in diseased time (bodies clad head-to-toe in latex redefines "safe sex"); D/S is the most difficult sex play of all as it requires an active imagination.

Portrayals of D/S in cinema are scant with positive dominatrix roles. Characters engaged in D/S are mentally imbalanced (Secretary), dangerous (Body of Evidence [Madonna, above], Pulp Fiction), or deadly (Payback [Mel Gibson & Lucy Liu]). Only Lady Heather (Melinda Clarke) of TV's C.S.I. can be seen as a positive role model, though she's had bad luck with crimes taking place in her Las Vegas dungeon (and her penchant for vigilante justice isn't necessarily admirable).