I grew up in a house pretty much without religion, but from an early age I understood the concept of “Hell” and had a pretty sure feeling that I would earn a trip there.
This was cemented into my head on the morning of the Easter when I was 13. All the other kids in the neighborhood were in church — besides the estimated 25% of our neighbors who preferred Passover to Easter, who I assumed would all be spending that particular morning doing something “too Jewish” for me to disturb them.
So with nothing else to do, while everyone outside of my household was in church, I went into the bathroom and jacked off. At the time, I thought I was doing the most sacrilegious thing imaginable, and I decided that if I didn’t cum that this Jesus being that my parents didn’t celebrate and I didn’t understand would take pity on me and NOT send me to Hell for it.
But I was 13 years old. I came, anyway.