Contrary to most of you, I can remember the day I got converted. I think the spanking gene was there dormant. No books, no references, never got spanked, had vague knowledge of some of my mates geting it.
I was 9. It was summer and my best friend's birthday. His mom, today she would be labelled MILF, but then I remember she was young, blonde and lovely. She was using a flower-pattern summer dress clinging to her body. She was making the games for us and playing as well.
One game involved forfeits. She suggested one spank on the bottom for the loser. She lost, I won. She braced against the wall and proffered her skirted bottom for me to spank. I'll remember to my grave and probably beyond the feel of the light material and her curves inside it. I was carried away and in quick sucession I gave her three stingers. Well, my hand stung. I was terrified of what I did.
Instead of scolding me, she looked over her shoulder and chuckled: "My, aren't we a naughty boy?"
I was hooked for life. But I was hooked in an era and country where to pursue the spanko way required much more resources that a 9 year old could muster. When I was 11 my parents decided to emigrate to Brazil. My first contact with spanking world - and the discovery that there were people like me - was through letters section in Penthouse and Mr. I can safely affirm that I learned English as my 3rd language (and later French) to be able to read and even write spanking stories.
