State hangings were were held in a closed yard.  They were open to the public, but casual passers by did not have to watch if they didn't wish it.  Of course children could only get in if accompanied by an adult.  Since she was only nine years old, Casey would have to sneak in somehow if she wanted to see.  Children were sometimes taken by thier parents, so if she could sneak in, she probably wouldn't be noticed.

She waited near the gate until a large gathering worked up that included a family with a couple of teenagers and tweenagers.  Casey walked up confidently, and marched in as if she belonged.  The constables at the gate hardly glanced in her direction.

Inside there was a fair sized crowd gathering before the gallows.  Casey worked her way forward, until she was right beside the security fence.  And just in time:  as the condemned was brought out and marched up  the steps to the scaffold.  The woman was from one the large cat species.  Her golden brown fur was spotted with dark brown spots and she had the long powerful legs of a runner. In the picture in the newspaper she had long golden yellow head hair falling over her shoulders; but now that hair had been chopped off at the jaw line.  She was wearing a simple light blue sun dress, with a low cut bodice and a knee length hem.

The woman's wrists were held by steel cuffs chained to the front of a dark leather belt around her waist.  When they stood her at the edge of the scaffold, one of the officials produced another leather belt, that was wrapped around her skirt and legs just above the knee and buckled tight.  Then the official reached out in front of the scaffold and grabbed the rope, where the noose dangled in front of the woman's breast.  He lifted the noose and calmly draped the halter around the cat's neck.  Gripping the knot in one hand, and the anchor end in the other, he tightened the loop until it was barely larger than the woman's throat.  He then lay the knot on the woman's left shoulder.

After droning out the particulars of the death warrent, the official in charge asked the condemned if she had anything to say.  Up to this point the woman had nonchalantly gone along with everything, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to be hanged on a sunny afternoon.  But now she looked out over the crowd as if seeing it for the first time.

"Proffessora Cette was right!  And you all know it!  The legends say we were created in lust, and lust is part of who we are!  When we deny it, we deny ourselves, and that has sickened our society!  We must give up on the mad cultural restrictions we have placed on ourselves, and surrender to our better, our beastly nature!"

The cat woman paused to take a deep breath, but instead of continuing, she jumped. 

Casey distinctly head the thump in the rope when it took the woman's weight.  But she did not hear any sound from the woman; no gasp, or grunt or anything.  Looking up, not quite right overhead, Casey could see that the jolt had jerked the halter tight into the woman's neck.  The loop had closed so much that the knot was moved around to the back by the woman's spine.

The woman seemed to shudder.  Then she squirmed at the shoulders and hips.  Her hands pulled at the cuffs on her wrists, as if feeling how much give they had.  Her body relaxed, but her head began to move, testing the grip of the lethal noose.  Her hands clutched into the fabric of her skirt, and she began to squirm again.  Then slowly the squirming became shuddering, and the shuddering became spasming.  Her tail flailed around madly.

Suddenly, Casey realized that the cat woman was not just pulling at her skirt.  The fingers of one hand were shoved deep into the wrinkles in the fabric, and the woman was furiously stroking at the private place between her legs.

The spasms became thrashing, and the woman's legs kicked and jerked.  The hem of the skirt came free of the leather belt, and it began to flutter and fly around the dangling legs.  Casey could look up to catch glimpses of white panties.

The woman stiffened, and arched her back.  The spasms settled down to powerful shudders.  Then suddenly, she relaxed.  Casey could see that the woman's hands had dropped loosely into the grip of the cuffs.  All animation faded, and finally there was just the pendulum swing of a weighted rope.  Strangely, the woman seemed to have a faint smile on her muzzle.

Casey suddenly realized that she was clutching at her own skirt; digging her fingers into her own private place.  She clutched her hands behind her back and glanced around to see if anyone else had  noticed.  Apprently not.  In fact, it rather looked as if a few other people, men and women, were also hastily rearranging their hands or clothes.

The crowd began to break up.  People started walking out.  A few moved to the front to take a last look at the body close up.  Casey walked to the gate and out, hoping that she looked as if she belonged; but inside her heart was pounding, and her tummy felt funny.  She actually ran part way, in her haste to get home.

Dad was still at work.  Only one of her sisters was home, and she was in the dining room doing homework.  So, Casey was able to take the little step ladder from the kitchen without being noticed.  Each of the four girls had a room of her own.  Casey's room at the back of the ground floor, was so small it didn't even have it's own closet.  But it did have pipes that ran to the upstairs lavatory.  

Casey set up the ladder, then reached under her mattress to pull out the rope she had sneaked out of the shed.  She didn't know how to tie a proper noose, but she managed to tie a crude slip knot.  Climbing to the top of the little ladder, she was able to tie the end of her rope to one of the pipes.  The loop dangled just at the level of her breast.

She climbed down and sat on her bed.  For several minutes she just sat there staring at the dangling loop.  She felt unusually warm in the face and ears.  She could feel her tail twitching across the bed quilt.  And she felt a strange pressure in the bottom of her tummy, where her secret place was.

Casey kicked off her shoes, and peeled off her socks.  She unbuttoned her blouse, and slipped it off;  then skinned her undershirt over her head.  Standing, she reached behind her to unbutton the waist of her skirt, before pushing it to the floor.  Finally, she hooked her fingers in the waist of her panties and pushed them down.

She realized that she was panting a little; and her heart was racing.  She knew that was from the excitement and the fear.  She raised her left hand to a nipple on a breast too young to begin growing boobs.  Fingering the nipple felt good in a kind of a tickling way.  Her hand slid down her soft belly fur to the crease just under her pelvic bone.  She had been touching herself there quite often lately.  There were places there where it felt very good to rub.  So she rubbed them now.  She only stopped rubbing when she needed her hands for balance to climb the step ladder.

Standing on the top of the ladder, she looked at the rope.  Then down at the floor, which suddenly seemed very far away indeed.  With both hands, she slowly reached out to the loop; and slowly drew it back to her face.  She slipped it over her muzzle, and bent her head forward to pull the knot back past her ears.  Taking the knot in one hand, and the anchor end in the other, she pulled the knot to her neck so that the loop was touching all the way around, but not tight.  Not yet.  It wasn't enough of a knot to actually lay it on her left shoulder.

While rubbing herself again, Casey thought of the faint smile the cat woman had on her face.  Casey had seen that smile once before.  Two months ago when Casey's mother had hanged herself, Casey had found the naked body.  Mother's face had that same faint smile.  Mothers fingers had been sticky and smelled of sex.  Mother had to have known that Casey would be the one to find her.  Casey had often wondered if that was deliberate.  Did her mother have some special message for Casey in her death?

Time to find out what that smile meant.

Casey jumped.

Hitting the rope was like a blow to her neck.  There was no time for a breath or a sound; the rope crushed her throat instantly.   Instinctively, she raised her hands to the rope, and tried to slip her fingers into the loop, but the rope was so tight into her fur and flesh, that she couldn't get a grip.

She let her hands drop to her sides, and relaxed.  The rope against the back of her neck was pushing her head forward, so she was looking down past her toes at her clothes on the floor.  The room seemed to be spinning, but on reflection she realized that she was the one swinging.  Her lungs were trying to breath, but there was no air.  And she felt a pounding in the sides of her neck. 

Well, she thought, if this is what it's like, it's not that bad.  Of course her neck hurt more than anything she'd ever known.  And she could feel her body squirming from the pain.  Wait, wasn't there something else?  Oh, yes!  She reached her hands between her legs, and began to rub again, across those ever so sensitive places, that felt so good.  Happily she realized that the fuzzy feeling in her head made the good rubbing feel even better.  Even though her body was shaking, and her tail flopping, and her legs kicking, and her neck hurt horribly, she liked what she felt in her tummy.

It was if her tummy wanted to do something, something special, and she couldn't quite rub her private place enough to make it happen.  It was getting harder to see the floor, and her lungs really hurt now.  She could feel her blood pounding against the rope around her neck.  But her tummy felt so good!  If only she could hold off the pain - just a little longer - just - a - little -

There was a beeping noise.  And voices.  And her nose felt funny.  And her neck felt funny, too.  Blearily, Casey opened her eyes.  

She could see a machine by her side.  Oh, she was lying on a bed.  In a white room she had never seen before.  And her nose felt funny because there was some kind of tube in it.

The voices she heard were her daddy and another man.  Daddy was saying how mommy had hanged herself.  The man talked about shared trauma, and childish misunderstandings.  When daddy asked about finding Casey naked like her mother, the man mentioned something called hypoxia and how it could affect sexual stimulation.  Then he went on to talk about counseling and mental health.

Casey realized that she had made a mistake.  Even though hanging had hurt, it had been fun.  She wanted to do it again.  But, in order to understand that secret smile, she had to be a grownup with a woman's private places, not a girls.  Well, in that case, she would be a good girl.  She would listen to all the counseling, and say all the things Daddy wanted her to say.  Until she was all grown up properly, and knew how to make her tummy feel good with sex.

Then she would try again.