He unlaced the corset that covered her outfit quickly, so he could get at her back properly. Mrs Lovett began to struggle more against him, obviously thinking that he was planning something less than innocent. He wasn't- at least, not what she was thinking of, anyway. His thoughts were revolving more around torturing her, not raping her. He would never- what kind of man would?
He raised the dead man's belt, bringing it down, hard, on her back, taking pleasure at hearing her gasp of paon. Again, and again he hit her, a new shot of pain running throughout her body continously. He began to hit her harder, getting carried away, encouraged y each heart-rendering gasp that failed to render his heart. She cried out as the hard metal buckle hit her stinging back, repeatedly, for what seemed like hours. Eventually this beating ended, and, thinking it was over, Mrs Lovett began to slowly get up, till Sweeney placed his knee on her smarting back, a smile tugging at his lips as she gasped yet again. He took one of his razors out of its holder, and pinned down her left arm, after twisting it round painfully so he could see her forearm. He began to cut, deep enough to leave scars, into her arm, laughing at her futile struggles and screams as he spelled out his name in her own blood, on her own arm. "S-" a scream. "W-" another. "E-" he twisted her arm a little more painfully, purely for the satisfaction of hearing her wretched screams. "E-" he cut just a little deeper, now, watching the blood trickle from her arm. "N-" he pressed his knee harder into her back, causing her to scream more and struggle harder, out of yet more pain from the pressure on her back, which was already far more painful than need be. "E-" still refusing to give up the struggle, trying (and failing) desperately not to scream. "Y-" at this, Mrs Lovett finally gave up, in the hope that if she behaves, he'll stop hurting her. He doesn't. "T-" pain shoots through her body like a bullet as she begins crying, wishing that he'll just get it over with. "O-" he smiles again at the sound of the screams of the defensless woman he insists on torturing. "D-" now, he can't tell if she's screaming or sobbing, but, either way, he takes pleasure in the fact that he forced her into both. "D-" her screams finally end, as she lies of the cold floor, crying, and he steps away, watching her as she hesitantly gets to her feet.
He sees the complete and itter fear in her eyes as she looks at him, still trying to be brave and refusing to break any more than she has already as she wipes her tears away. He steps towards her, a murderous glint in his eyes, and she automatically flinches as moves away, fear shooting through her body, mingling the the emotional and physical pain she feels. He laughs mercilessly.
"Come, now, my pet, we're not yet finished."At the thought of anything more, her feet fail her, and she sinks to the ground, her body betraying her, yet still she refuses to accept defeat. As he tries to srag her upright, she struggles against him- she won't do anything he wants her to. He may have- painfully- marked her as his own, but still she would not aide by that. After minutes of fighting her, he kneels behind her and quickly moves the belt around her body, pinning her arms to her sides, and fastens it.
"Mistah Todd!"
"Yes, Mrs Lovett?"
"Let me go!"
"You are in no state to make demands, Mrs Lovett."
"Mistah T! Please!"
"Do be quiet, woman. I am busy."
"Doin' wot?"
"I said, be quiet! If I must tell you, woman, I'm deciding what to do with you next."
"Please, Mistah T! Can't you just... just stop?"
"Mrs Lovett, if you won't be quiet, then I must..."
"Go on then, wot 'must' you do?"
He immediately untied his cravat, quickly tying it round her mouth, preventing her from talking- although, she did try. She made as much noise as possible, till Sweeney dragged her to her feet and throw her against the wall, where she fell, limply, and he put his razor to her throat once again.
"You WILL do as I say, woman, do you understand? You are mine to do what I please with, and I will do what I please with you!" She didn't make a sound. "Understand?" He says, menacingly, pushing the razor into her throat just deep enough to cut slightly, yet not deep enough to die from blood loss. This time, Mrs Lovett nodded quickly, tears forming at her eyes.
"Good." Witch this, he left the room, heading for his shop upstairs, leaving her, still bond, in her bakehouse, amongst the dead bodies of Sweeney's latest victims, exclusing herself. At least she was alive. To die as a statistic is something she just couldn't bear- yet she couldn't help but wonder as to why Sweeney seemed to be keeping her alive. All she could do was wonder this, and how long till he would be back, and whether or not he would keep her alive then, or hurt her still more.