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Kinja was one of many Japanese students to visit Australia. Thousands of Japanese students visit every year, to get away from the dense business of their cities, to get away from very old notions of what it is to be a man or a woman, and especially to get away from their parents.
Kinja was typical of her age. 18, having just finished high school, she had had boyfriends in the past but was pretty sexually inexperienced. To be honest, she knew very little about sex, didn’t have a particularly passionate personality, and underestimated the desire that men and women – and animals – sometimes had for sex.
She was very tall by Japanese standards, about 5’11 (180 cms), and this tallness meant that she was often the centre of attention, which made her shy. On being addressed in a crowd, she would look down at the floor, and spoke softly. Her hair (black, of course) was long, reaching half way down her back. Her hands and feet were normally sized, but huge by Japanese standards. She was also slim and had small breasts, which meant that when she was younger she was sometimes mistaken for a boy. That was why she wore her hair long. There is nothing quite as embarrassing for a Japanese girl to be mistaken as a boy.
She jumped at the opportunity to travel to Australia with some classmates. Australia, like any western country, is seen as a crime-ridden pit of depravity. This was especially so knowing that Australia was originally a convict colony. But she would accept any rules imposed by her parents for the opportunity to go. Kinja had to travel with four other girls, all of whom were known by her parents. She had to be in contact by phone very day. She was never to bushwalk, because in the bush (as Australians call their countryside) there were wild dogs, wild predators, wild everything.
Naturally, Kinja wanted to break all the rules.
She did travel to Sydney with her four friends, but broke up with them early, wanting to experience ‘independence.’ It was also a good way to practice her English, as the Japanese only speak Japanese when with others from their country.
Kinja quickly feel in love with Australia. At 5’11,’’ she didn’t feel so much like a towering freak, as Australian girls are taller than the Japanese. Her slim, boyish build was not only acceptable, but seen as attractive in a country where gender fashions were a bit more relaxed. And her English was better than she thought, except she found the Australians spoke too fast.
She had been in the country for two weeks when she made the fateful decision that would lead to the attack. After seeing the sites of Sydney, going whale-watching up the coast, and seeing the nightly penguin invasion on the beaches down the coast, she joined up with a bush-walking team to one of the densest rainforest areas in the world.
She would be safe, or so she thought, as she was going with an experienced guide and a group of 9 others: 4 Americans, 3 German and 1 British. They were all about 18 to 20, and an even mix of guys and girls. Kinja knew she would have a fantastic time.
They caught a train to Katoomba, to the west of Sydney, got off the train and started walking. Within an hour they were in the middle of one of the largest national parks in Australia. Within two hours, they had literally lost site of civilisation, except for their maps and compasses. Kinja kept an eye on her mobile phone, watching the signal getting weaker, and then disappearing altogether.
Being the first day, they only walked for 4 hours and camped the night. Each had to carry their only bed mat. They didn’t have sleeping blankets, but were encouraged to wear warm clothes, several layers, so that they could sleep clothed at night, but take off the extra layers during the day. Then they only needed thick socks and sturdy underwear. Extra items were cut down to the bare minimum – water, food, a sharp knife, a flashlight and food. Every extra kilo becomes a problem when you have to carry it through the bush.
The 9 of them surrounded a fire, and burnt a type of incense used to repel the flies, moths and other insects of the bush. The fire cracked in a loud roar, they ate, drank beers and Kinja practised her English.
The next day, Kinja nearly died.
She woke up to find that the fire was smouldering, but that all the other people on the trip weren’t there. She couldn’t explain it. How did they all leave her? Had they forgot about her? How could she have slept through the noise that they made when they left? Was this some sort of joking that she did not understand because of a cultural gap ?
Whatever the reason, Kinja was now alone in the Australian bush. She yelled out, but there came no reply. The kookaburras laugh, amusing to tourists, took on a sinister turn. Should she try and walk back the way she came? After all, it was only 4 hours. But could she reply on her map-reading skills?
Kinja’s diary has been found, and has been translated from the Japanese.
“I was very frightened when I woke up because I didn’t know where everyone had gone. I thought at first it must be a mistake, but I couldn’t understand. There was some food and water in my backpack, so I knew that I would have enough for that day, but what I was going to do after that I had no idea.”
Kinja stayed at the site for the rest of the day, at least obeying the usual advice about people being lost in the bush.
The day dragged on. Waiting, waiting. It was a terrifying ordeal for her. But the night would be worse.
“I got into my sleeping back and laid there in the dark. I was so scared. I didn’t know how to light a fire, and with no one else there it meant that the animals got very close. I didn’t know what to do.”
She eventually went to sleep at about 3.00am, listening to the cry of wild dogs. She had plenty of water for another day, but had run out of food.
Kinja slept on her sleeping mat fully clothed, which meant a pair of blue jeans – actually too tight for walking. But in the newly liberated atmosphere of Australia, she now liked being attractive, rather than started at. She liked the tight jeans, the way they hugged her bottom. Her top was a bright red shirt. A ‘boy’s’ shirt she would have called it in Japanese, but recommended by the camping store: bright colours stand out if you get lost. She even left her boots on, with large rugged soles, as heavy as they were, because wearing them made her feel more secure.
Kinja didn’t know the first thing about the bush, basic background knowledge that every Australian kid grows up on. She was to learn her lessons the hard way.
About an hour after she entered a coma-like sleep, a wild dog started sniffing near to Kinja. She lay on her back, unawares. The wild dog, a ‘dingo’ as they are called in Australia, started circling, attracted to the unknown figure laying on her back, with her body slightly angled, with her legs apart.
During the night, Kinja had started her period, but was so tired that she didn’t wake up. The fresh virginal blood was leaking its way, first into her light blue panties with the girlie pink hearts on them (they are popular in Japan). Her flow was heavy, and it started to stain the outside of her jeans. It was this primitive smell – the smell of a mammal’s blood – that attracted the wild dog, thinking that Kinja was a wounded animal.
The dog approached, and sensing that Kinja was not an animal or wounded, starting sniffing between her legs. The lust of fresh blood excited him, but he was cautious about attacking. As these wild dogs do, he withdrew from the scene, as these dogs always hunt in packs.
“The next morning when I woke up, I found that I had started my period. I ask forgiveness for mentioning this, but I know that these words may be the last words I write if I die, and I want to be totally honest. I had no choice but to take my panties off and wearing them inside out, hoping that would absorb more of the blood. I had nothing with me that I could have used as a sanitary towel.”
Kinja woke up to the nightmare of being alone in the bush. She was very hungry now, and feeling light-headed. Still, she had water. She decided she could no longer stay where she was. Obviously, the others would have come back by now if they were going to come back at all. So, she decided that she had to go back the way she came. It was only 4 hours.
As she walked back, a pack of 5 wild dogs followed her.
“I started walking back and soon realised that I was lost. There was nothing I could see. I was very scared because I thought I had people following me, but I later learnt that they were wild dogs. There were 5 of them, and I soon learnt that they were following me for a particular reason.”
The dogs were inflamed now with the smell of Kinja’s menstrual blood in the air. These wild dogs, like all dogs, didn’t see Kinja as a human, but just as some sort of weird dog herself. A tall, two animal dog, perhaps, but still a dog. Their pack instinct had kicked in, and they were operating on rules laid down over many years of evolution. Those rules could be described as following an animal till it gets exhausted, make sure it doesn’t stop in order to rest, and for all of them to attack at once. The aim was to kill and eat the animal or – as on this occasion – to mate with it.
Kinja’s panties became clogged with more bleeding, and she stopped shortly to take her panties off and through them away. Undoing her jeans and pulling them down, she found in her panties a solid wedge of blood. The bright blue of the panties was now a dark red. The distinct smell of blood was released to the air. They were so clogged with blood that she had to peel them off, - pasted with blood to her flesh. She thanked herself that she had recently shaved her pubic hair – as Japanese girls do – so that she would have to pull out hairs. She didn’t take them off normally, but used the emergency knife in her backpack to cut them off. This way, she wouldn’t need to take off her jeans or boots. Being naked from the waist down would have made her feel very vulnerable, even if there was no one around. She let the bloody panties drop to the ground.
The bloodied panties were sniffed immediately by the dogs as soon as she had walked on. Wearing nothing underneath her jeans meant that the blood when straight though, now running down her thighs, so that long thin strips of blood ran down to her thighs and knees.
The heat was excessive, and she was sure that she was very close now. She had been walking for 6 hours, having no break because the more she stopped, the longer it would take her to get back. She had started walking at 7.00am and it was now an hour past midday – and very hot. She had used her knife to cut off the legs of her jeans, so that they became shorts. Her extra clothes she got rid of because that just meant more to carry. She cut the arms off the red ‘boy’s’ shirt, exposing her shaven underarms, trying to keep cool.
Instead of resting, she kept walking. Within an hour her thighs were bright red with sunburn, her arms almost burning. She had not eaten for so long now that she was feeling tired and weak. A feeling that the dogs instinctively understood.
The first dog attacked. It came from nowhere. It attacked from behind her, biting her lightly on the back of her right thigh, and retreated. This was to test her reaction.
“I turned round out of shock because I had no idea what it was. I saw its tail as it ran away, behind some bushes that were so dense it disappeared. I didn’t understand why it would do that and then run away. It didn’t even make me bleed, but one of its teeth did catch the bottom of my ‘shorts’ as I would now call them.”
Kinja kept walking and kept looking back, and the dog was braver and showed itself. It was pointless to run – how long could she run for? But run she did, her boots crushing the twigs that lay underneath her feet. Her legs were unused to hard physical exercise, yet they carried her as never before. Her breasts were pools of sweat, rivulets running down from her underarms, her hair becoming a knotted mass.
As she ran, the dog followed her. He could have out-ran her at any moment, but getting the pray to run was the aim. The more she ran, the closer the dog came to its target.
“The second time, it bit me again on the left thigh. But this time when I stood around the dog didn’t run away. It stood their and growled, showing its teeth. I now know I shouldn’t have, but I just ran.”
Kinja was now being hunted. Her time was limited.
“I ran and kept looking back, but of course I got out of breath. I ran and ran, and when I stopped and was puffed out, the dog came back and bit me again, except this time he bit the right part of my bottom. I tried to run again but he sunk his teeth in so that it really hurt and I couldn’t move. Then he shook his head from side to side. This ripped my shorts and now half my bottom was exposed. I screamed, or tried to scream, and tried to run away, but he bit again and ripped the crotch so that now my ‘shorts’ became like a skirt. My - please forgive me – my vagina and my genitals became totally exposed, and they were bloody. Then I realised that the dog was after me because of the blood. Or, that is what I thought at the time.”
The dog retreated, and the next time, it would attack in a group with the others.
“This time, the dog didn’t attack my thighs or bottom, but my back. I didn’t here it coming although I was looking back all the time. It was like someone had thrown the dog at me, because its two paws hit me hard in the middle of my back. This knocked me to the ground, onto my knees. Then the dog stood still, growling at me.
“Then the other dogs came out. I knew that I was being followed by some dogs, I could hear them, but this was the first I saw them all. They surrounded me, like points on a compass, while I was on my knees. The scariest one was the one in front of my face, I was just crying, hoping that it wouldn’t attack. I just kept as still as I could.
“I am so ashamed to write what happened next. Please forgive, my family, if you are shamed by this, but I may die, and I must tell the truth.
“I was on my hands and knees, and my bottom was in the air, my vagina still bleeding. The dog that was behind me started sniffing me, and then started licking my private parts. After the dog licked my blood, it kept licking, and my genitals started to lubricate.
“I WASN’T ENJOYING IT ! It was my body and not me that reacted like this. I was disgusted and ashamed. It was disgusting, filthy. The dog then jumped up on my body to mount me. I couldn’t bring myself to long around to see what it was doing, I was afraid to move, but I could feel it trying to poke into me. It poked the back of my thighs, in between my thighs, I was afraid that it would get angry and bite me.
“I knew that the longer this lasted the later I would get back. I just wanted to get this thing over and done with. I knew that the dog wouldn’t stop because it was just too aggressive and too excited.
“I reached underneath and held its penis in my hand. Touching it made the dog try to do it more. It wasn’t like a boy’s penis at all – I am a virgin but have had boyfriends – and my hand was shaking. I lined up the penis so that the dog could enter me, but the dog wasn’t close enough. It fell forward so that its front legs moved from my waist to almost up near my breasts. As it fell, its penis inserted itself into me.
“I was not sexually excited at all, so my vagina was not wet (except for the blood) and it wasn’t opened, like if I was sexually aroused. Because of this my vagina was tight, but the dog’s penis was thin so it went it without much difficulty. As soon as the dog had gone in as far as it could – it touched my cervix - it started moving its pelvis up and down, the way that I have seen dogs mate. They move very quickly, up and down, up and down, faster than you can say the words. The penis couldn’t go deep enough. I was scared and stayed still.
“As it was still penetrating me, the other dogs became very quiet, and they weren’t aggressive at all now. One of the dogs was ripping at my shorts, trying to rip them with his teeth as the first dog was still penetrating me. Another dog was pulling at my top, which ripped easily, and then started pulling at my bra, which also came off easily, exposing one breast, but still pulling till I was exposed. The dogs were mystified by my breasts, licking them, not knowing exactly what they were.
“The first dog was getting close to ejaculating inside me. He would move himself very quickly, and then stop, and then move himself very quickly again. His paws gripped me tighter as he came closer to climaxing. I knew that his mouth was open because I felt his saliva dribble onto my back.
“He started penetrating me harder now, and my vagina spasmed and gripped his penis every time he hit my cervix. It wasn’t painful, but just very uncomfortable, but I didn’t even feel that properly because I was so scared. He pushed in one more time and this did hurt, and the walls of my vagina gripped tight.
“He ejaculated itself me. There was so much of his stuff, some of it immediately started running out. It ticked the inside of my thigh. I remember that was such a strange thing for me to focus on, considering everything else that was happening.
“After the first dog got off me, the second one mounted me, and it all started again. I kept still for such a long time, for the first, then the second, third and forth dog mounted me and climaxed. The difference between the dogs was that the amount of stuff inside me got bigger, till it was like I had been hosed. It was smeared all over my thighs, and across my bottom. Another difference was that I was now completely naked, and I couldn’t wear my clothes against because they had been ripped.
“I thought it would never stop. After they finished, the 4 of them just walked away.”
After Kinja’s rape by the four dogs, this courageous girl walked naked, except for her boots, through the Australian bush for another 3 hours. She eventually found civilisation, and never received an adequate explanation for why her fellow-campers left her. She stumbled onto a farmhouse, naked and covered in blood, with semen dried to her thighs, bottom and genitals.
She was taken to a near-by hospital and then transferred to a specialist ward in a hospital on the outskirts of Sydney. What she was going to be told there was to shock her, indeed, would shock many Australians. At some point in the past, wild Australian dogs have learnt to hunt humans but, more often, to rape them. What Kinja experienced occurs to about 5-10 girls per year, many of them foreign tourists. Many of the dogs detain their pray, raping them twice-daily until they get bored and move on to another female. Doctors and nurses are bound by strict confidentiality agreements in their employment, as the affect on the tourism industry would be catastrophic if it became publicly known. Meanwhile, girls like Kinja will be brutally raped, and return to their own country in silence.
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