A horrid tale which is far, far outre. What if, for example, a fine-grained female, an ethereal porcelain British aristocrat, turns to spying in World War II, is subject to Nazi tortures, and turns out to be a roaring masochist? Amanda (the Commander), Rosemary Nightingale, involved in intelligence work in occupied France, is captured almost immediately by a happy trio of German perverts. Although Amanda had been introduced by a fellow French spy to pleasures not hitherto available from her ginger-mustached husband Guy, it is not until the jolly Junkers (two male, an ambisextrous female and a visiting, sensationally-endowed sadist) work her over with whips, razors, etc., that Amanda hits her zenith. But the grand old flagellantes are half-masted, and Amanda is ""rescued,"" inadvertently by the way spilling the beans about German strategy. A nation's gratitude is hers, and at the last, Amanda, reunited after many years with her female tormentor, is jauntily racing away to a post-war sadist club, to the hoots of Guy, who has more than an inkling. An erotic boff.