A hooker is drugged and gang raped, runs away and finds protection with a clan of girls trained in kung fu by a martial artist. With this help, the young woman will take her revenge.
Without a doubt one of the single most uproariously silly porno oddities to emerge from the loopy 70’s, this one merges your standard sexathon with the then trendy martial arts craze with positively ridiculous and hence quite sidesplitting results.
A young prostitute (gorgeous brunette Bree Anthony) gets raped in the woods by a group of scuzzy guys who include a giggly Bobby Astyr and the ever-sleazy Jamie Gillis. Fortunately, the hooker gets taken in by a secret sect of beautiful distaff kung-fu masters who teach her all about the erotic side of the martial arts (i.e., these ladies meditate buck naked until smoke comes out of their vaginas and make out with each other a lot).
Director Bill Milling pokes hysterical fun at the glaring shoddiness of low-rent chopsocky fare: Hilariously obvious dubbing, cheesy protracted slow motion, hokey narration done by some dude with a phony and unconvincing Chinese accent, tacky freeze frames, wonky editing for the fight scenes, jarring use of music (Anthony gets raped to jaunty hillbilly bluegrass music!), and even the unavoidable arduous training montages. The smoldering presence of the always delicious C.J. Laing as the martial arts teacher provides plenty of heat. The bright cinematography gives this flick an attractive sunny look. A total hoot and a half.