Timmy the Timid, that's what he was known as since kindergarten. Ever the bashful boy on the school playground, Tim was easily bullied and razzed by the older kids; girls as well as boys. But most of the children's imaginations never went beyond teasing and name-calling.

It wasn't until ninth grade that the reason for his extreme shyness became known to a few. By that age students were deemed mature enough to be taken on educational outings. The school system in Tim's county divided up school populations in the old-fashioned way. Early Elementary consisted of K through 6; Middle School had classes for grades 7, 8 and 9. High School was reserved for 10th through 12th grades. So in 9th grade the kids were top of their league and acted like it. That is, the giddy girls were well into the throes of puberty. The boys were on the edge of sexual awareness.

The first excursion of the year took place in November and meant chartering a school bus to take them the 15 miles to the city proper for an afternoon at the Natural History Museum. Everyone was excited and none of them were on their best behavior. This was due in part to the fact that the parent chaperone had become ill and cancelled at the last moment. The teacher, Miss Briggs, was also without a T.A. for the day and so had to manage 32 teenage boys and girls nearly on her own.

There was a perfect storm of chaos and humiliation brewing for timid Tim, but as the children piled into the bus that morning, everything seemed normal. It was the calm before the storm.

For years Tim had gotten his usual dose of teasing for being a loner, for mumbling at the best of times and going all red in the face when a girl addressed him. He might as well have had a bull's eye painted on his forehead or a sign on his back saying 'KICK MY ASS AND MY EGO HARD'. His nickname was 'Tim the timid', but if his name had been Patrick, he'd have been called ' Pat the pathetic'.

The bus ride in was not that bad for Tim who was inured to the taunts and jibes, so his silent and compliant response was taken for granted. As usual, the kids ignored him after awhile. The museum visit was noisy, disorganized but otherwise mostly uneventful until three of the rowdier lads got into a fight in the museum cafeteria. It turned into a food fight and Tim was one of six boys to have soda spilled over their shirts. Not a disaster but Miss Briggs insisted they go to the men's bathroom and wash off the soda before it stained. She told them to soak the shirts well and then dry them under the hot air blower before returning to the group.

That's how it was Tim ended up bare from the waist up in the privacy of the bathroom. The other boys were in the same state, of course. But what distinguished Tim from the others was his odd behavior. The others were busily ' pulling a muscle' with biceps and pectorals and abs on naked display as they proudly showed off their burgeoning manhood to their pals.

Tim, on the other hand, was clumsily trying to scrub his shirt in the sink. His back was to the others and his arms were pulled to his sides. He was having a hard time because he was using only one hand for the job; his other hand was covering up his chest, or more accurately, he was covering his breasts which, until that moment, had only been viewed by himself, his parents and his family doctor. A few of his classmates now noticed Tim being even more shy than usual and they started teasing him. They didn't know the half of it, but when they found out, Tim's horrible secret was out and his fate was sealed.

Fourteen year old Timmy had gynecomastia, a hormonal disorder which meant, even at that tender age, Tim was developing female-like breasts. In adolescent boys the condition is often a source of distress, but for most boys whose pubescent gynecomastia is not due to obesity, the breast development shrinks or disappears within a couple of years. But Timmy's condition had developed early and therefore appeared very pronounced. His mother had him wear over-sized sweaters even in the hottest summers to hide his shame and humiliation.

But now his secret was out. Worse still, these boys, the meanest bullies in the school, were the only ones to know Tim's secret and they had every intention of using that knowledge to Tim's detriment and their nasty enjoyment. But they were smart enough not to squander their good fortune right away. They figured they should find the best time to utterly humiliate Tim.

But first they needed to let Tim know who was boss. That was easy. There were five of them and Tim was no match for even just one of them. George Lee, the self-appointed leader of the pack, took charge as the lads surrounded Tim. He grabbed Tim's wrists and pulled his arms straight up as they dragged him away from the sink and his still wet shirt. They had lots of fun taking turns copping a feel and pinching his nipples which, due to his medical condition, were very hard, pointy and surrounded by deep-toned aureolae. Looking at his bare chest you would have thought he was a 16 year old girl.

They took dozens of cell phone photos of him before giving him back his still wet shirt. Tim was crying as he desperately ran the shirt under the air drier. The other boys left the bathroom laughing but also assuring Tim they would keep his boobies secret, but that there would be a price for their silence. This was not reassuring.

The rest of the school trip was uneventful but Tim kept to himself more than ever giving furtive glances at the gang of boys who knew too much. Surprisingly, those boys seemed to ignore him, they were not whispering to other classmates or giving any sign that were going to cause him any further embarrassment. Tim was beginning to think he might have dodged a bullet when, as they were boarding the bus to return to school, George grabbed him by his shirt collar and directed him to the dreaded back of the bus where all the cool boys were.