Mr. Risk and Mr. Baxter entered the room while Travis attempted to work out what was happening through the fogginess in his head. He attempted to move, to struggle, but found that his muscles stubbornly remained quite relaxed. He wasn't sure he could have done much with the restraints holding him upright anyhow.
Mr Baxter looked to be around 50 years old. His head was bald with a short clipped fringe of fine salt and pepper hair. His shirt was stretched out by a notable gut which almost bounced as he swiftly approached Travis.
"Well, I'm going to at least take a look at what I have to work with before I make up my mind." He spoke almost dismissively over his shoulder to Mr. Risk. Baxter looked up to meet Travis' gaze and cast an appraising glance over him. "I can tell you I like the height right off. I think I'll have that."
Behind him, Risk began checking off a few boxes on a clipboard he carried.
"This is ridiculous. I should get to see what I pay for." Baxter huffed, his thick greyed moustache bristling. He lifted a chubby hand dusted with black hairs and grabbed hold of the gown covering Travis. With a quick forceful tug, he tore the flimsy garment off.
Travis felt exposed and embarrassed as Baxter practically leered over his naked body. His hand tentatively reached out and experimentally touched him. "Nice smooth skin. I'm liking that, too. Might as well go for the whole hair option. And I can certainly stand to trade in this as well." He chuckled to himself, patting his gut with one hand while his other trailed across Travis' midsection.
Travis wanted to recoil from Baxter's touch, but again was unable to muster anything. His mind shouted countless protests, but his sagged mouth could not form any of them.
Slowly, inexorably, Baxter's hand lingered and slid further down. "This package looks good to me too. It'll certainly be an upgrade anyway." He said finally, his hand cupping his prize.
"That and a good 20 or so years should probably do it." Baxter finished with a wide grin on his face.