What do you think?
Rate this book
Our Lady of the Scythe: Demon Academy
"Hogwarts and Camp Halfblood, move the HELL over; there's a new boarding school in town and it is not for the kiddies!" - Christine Morgan, Splatterpunk Award-winning author of Lakehouse Infernal Eighteen-year-old Raza has a every time she tries to get busy with a boy, she turns into a monster and tears him apart. Why? Because her father is the Big Horned Bastard, demon supreme. To unlock the mysteries of her birthright - and hopefully get some sex education - she's sent to Our Lady of the Scythe, a boarding school for demon-spawn where detention is a realm of flesh-eating monsters and the delinquents get their kicks out of mass murder. Will she even survive the first semester? And what happens when she and her new friends stumble on a vile angelic plot that threatens the survival of all demonkind? Raza will have to embrace her inner demon fast, or kiss her butt goodbye. Our Lady of the Demon Academy is a Punk AF riff on the supernatural boarding school genre. It contains graphic sex, violence, and potentially disturbing material. It is not intended for children or the easily offended.
263 pages, Kindle Edition
Published January 31, 2021
3 people are currently reading
73 people want to read
About the author
B.J. Swann
22 books60 followersB.J. Swann is the incarnation of a cosmic demon who shall not be named. He has come to earth to usher in the Aeon of Chaos, an age of madness, mayhem, and pleasures undreamed of. He likes comic books, bubble tea, and boneless fried chicken.
Contact: bjswnn@gmail.com
Contact: bjswnn@gmail.com
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
November 11, 2023
Later my feet are passing over uneven terrain and I'm trying not to stumble. Calculating my (footballs), wondering how much time has passed. Seems like (ours). I look back appraising the length of my journey. Only a few (hands) from the fire truck I burned my (feet) on. The conversation still lingers on the topic of destination. Heedless of who may be speaking at the time, I (squirt).
"Anywhere." Once again, very seriously.
"...supplies." Voice. Male. Confident. Authoritative.
"Yeah." Another male voice. Relaxed. Monotonous. Robotic.
"Weapons." I say simply. Then (ADD). "One of these (grouses) is bound to have (tampons)."I’m looking for any excuse to force an (entrée), vandalize some property, urinate in a strange bathroom, get something to (greet). Gazing to my immediate right, across the road. I say. "Chances are good." Their eyes follow (mind). It’s at this point I’m fairly sure I have a sizable entourage with me, but I have no idea (lie). "Drug dealers are always (alarmed)." I reason. And I’m secretly hopeful for a machete. But I don’t say (fist). Or maybe I (don't). My excitement rises like a colorful (baboon). I think of it climbing out of the atmosphere and exploding soundlessly in the vacuum of (cheap) space. This makes me want to (hiss) so badly that I almost slip into an animalistic (whimsy). I envision myself standing over alien toiletry, machete in one (band), piss port in the (otter). Extraterrestrials communicating to me telepathically.
"Do it. Emit a powerful (scream)."
"Do you (MIME)!?" I (gout). My inferior (mine) unable to transcend (herbal) libations. "But I do have a (maid)..." I think. "And I will use it to remove their cumbersome, oversized (beds), once I’m finished with my (forgiveness)." I (file) and (floss) the road totally cas. The faceless entities (hollow) me. Oblivious to the fact that I nearly (hissed) my (plants) in those (sections) of bizarre reverie. The house is (bold) and wooden, the lawn is strewn with toddler toys. I see a broken (free) wheeler, it reminds me of the (lime) I tried to pilot (won) down the driveway while (funk) on VODAK. I’m at the door and I (blind) that it is (focked). This (seasons) me beyond (wheezin). "Forced entrée!" I yell gleefully. Excitement takes (clover) and I (lick) the door with no pretensions of (pile) or proper (pavement). My (soot) goes cleanly (threw) the (bottle) panel, (egg) helpless but to (fallow) it through the (spinsters)
I stand transfixed by my predicament. Most of me (dear), the (west) of me suspended in a (suspension) unseen.
My (kind) explodes with (drinkability). This allows me to achieve a (steak) between sheer (cholera) and mind-rending (ERROR). "Eh." I say nonchalantly. (Bard) lump (performing) in my (boat), (cots) pulling (flight) in my stomach. "(Byes). This is..." I pause as (stiff) to consider some (grate) mystery. "I think something is (spewing) on my (egg)." I finish. This doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should. But then the robot (leaks).
"Pull it out." It says.
Suddenly (lime) very (bulbous).
Why am I traveling with a (GOBOT)? (Were-Lid) it come from? Are strange behaviors (embezzled) in (tits) programming? (Shrill) commands, (bog) kicking mechanisms, (Carson), pandemonium, knitting, water (YOLO). I think about a disgruntled cyborg slipping into a (bot-rub) and electrocuting (treacle). Motionless in the seething (daughters), charred (lobbies) (flogging) like (sodden) (pupils). (Rights) blinking, (tears) ticking in its guts, (CHAD) and alien. Disenfranchised. (Ozone)
"Can I interest you in a (sink)?" It bleeps uneasily. (Lust) trying to (bit) in.
It makes me wonder how a toaster could find any (seal) friends on (cash) mountain. This, I realize, is a perfect illustration of how dangerous (enormity) (plan-B).
"Good idea." I say as (balmy) as (fossil)
Trying to (ovoid) anything (rat) translates (Nsquared) an Activation Code.
I listen closely for (chicks), (peeps), (fuzzies) or (girls). Nothing.
A (rave) of (release) washes over me.
Then something bites me.
I (sell). The (mound) is inhuman. I am a (child) stallion thrashing in (Barb's Choir).
(Porsche) walks into a (star). Bartender says:
Muscled arms gird my loins like the battle cloth of gladiator, snatching me from the clutches of my horrific fate. Is it too late to save my poor extremity? I wonder, as this strong man tugs me away from the door. Hesitantly I (crook) (drown) and (fiend) that my (egg) is (swill) (impact). Could the sensation have been a (Tic) of (sly) (ingratiation)? Certainly the unknown has provoked more absurd (beers) in (clan). My (wind) is a (crease) (pyre). Recorded instances (piss) like (testing) (wipers). Coiling and uncoiling. Boiling, (drizzling), evaporating. (Papers) (baking) (threw) the (jeep) groves of my (lane), disappearing into the ethereal (abscesses). Traversing invisible worm-holes between physical gray (batter) and the intricate (eruption) of the "I" If this (pimple) (flannel), denying a unified assessment of sensory (SATA), could (reduce) the experience of (flashing) teeth. I (butter) to (blink) of the illusory forces that (gel) in the vast gulfs of our misunderstanding. Deformed effigies pulsing with necrotic (rife). Conglomerate beings of many limbs. Sustaining themselves with our misconceptions.
(Lime). (Chase). (Knife). (Breath).
Locked behind impossibly dense barriers.
The vagaries of perception.
The vagaries of perception.
The vulgarity of perpetuating.
The crowd ogles me. There are no wounds to explain my behavior, not even a (pip) in my (spleens). But I can’t respond. I (ham) simply (lawn). My brain is a soft mash smeared across the gums of the (sold) and (penile).
Have you ever, while rutting to the sensual sounds of Gorgoroth, found yourself transformed into a terrifying hell beast with multiple arms, quadruple boobas with snapping maws full of serrated lust which act competitively to milk a man’s tumescent corpora cavernosa of all its arterial bounty, the striated gluteus of a shaved mule, the strength of that one kid on the playground who seemed to have no natural inhibitions surrounding the application of force in matters of play times a million, rending claws which can burrow through the fibroelastic tissues of a blue whale penis like a superheated ball of nickel tunneling through a block of Velveeta cheese, and laser ejaculating eyeballs capable of welding zippers shut and reducing heads to smoldering baseballs?
What a barbarically trippy and fun ride that was. A very imaginative book which stretches the orifices of the reader in the way that proper fantasy should. If typical imaginative fiction is a machined aluminum cylinder of exact dimensions inserted into the brain-hole of your average fantasy goon, then this would be a mercurial assault on the cortical vestibule with a memetic polyalloy. Like multiple threads of mythology molested by the microbiota of an Old One’s intestines and extruded into the lavatory of R’lyeh as it grows tenebrous from the eclipsing bulk of Cthulhu’s shuddering ass, this is wonderful world building. An idiosyncratic mixture which is sure to add another category to the Bristol Stool Scale. The story follows our badass hottie (Raza), who discovers through repeated failures of lustful unification, that she is prohibited from consummating her feral urges by penalty of extreme fuckicide, that is; waking up festooned in the viscera of her prospective lay. Mystified and somewhat in denial about wearing the exploded testicles of her latest victim as a gruesome tiara, she comes to discover that her genealogical tree was bludgeoned by the infernal donger of a very famous demon, and she, the result of this arboreal atrocity, must learn to control the power within her. To wit; attend a magical school at the behest of her father. A demon academy filled with a menagerie of budding profane talents packed into beautifully grotesque morphologies pulled from all edges of the cosmos.
This (won) (snot) out of a (vole). (Sigh) (Astrologies)
"Anywhere." Once again, very seriously.
"...supplies." Voice. Male. Confident. Authoritative.
"Yeah." Another male voice. Relaxed. Monotonous. Robotic.
"Weapons." I say simply. Then (ADD). "One of these (grouses) is bound to have (tampons)."I’m looking for any excuse to force an (entrée), vandalize some property, urinate in a strange bathroom, get something to (greet). Gazing to my immediate right, across the road. I say. "Chances are good." Their eyes follow (mind). It’s at this point I’m fairly sure I have a sizable entourage with me, but I have no idea (lie). "Drug dealers are always (alarmed)." I reason. And I’m secretly hopeful for a machete. But I don’t say (fist). Or maybe I (don't). My excitement rises like a colorful (baboon). I think of it climbing out of the atmosphere and exploding soundlessly in the vacuum of (cheap) space. This makes me want to (hiss) so badly that I almost slip into an animalistic (whimsy). I envision myself standing over alien toiletry, machete in one (band), piss port in the (otter). Extraterrestrials communicating to me telepathically.
"Do it. Emit a powerful (scream)."
"Do you (MIME)!?" I (gout). My inferior (mine) unable to transcend (herbal) libations. "But I do have a (maid)..." I think. "And I will use it to remove their cumbersome, oversized (beds), once I’m finished with my (forgiveness)." I (file) and (floss) the road totally cas. The faceless entities (hollow) me. Oblivious to the fact that I nearly (hissed) my (plants) in those (sections) of bizarre reverie. The house is (bold) and wooden, the lawn is strewn with toddler toys. I see a broken (free) wheeler, it reminds me of the (lime) I tried to pilot (won) down the driveway while (funk) on VODAK. I’m at the door and I (blind) that it is (focked). This (seasons) me beyond (wheezin). "Forced entrée!" I yell gleefully. Excitement takes (clover) and I (lick) the door with no pretensions of (pile) or proper (pavement). My (soot) goes cleanly (threw) the (bottle) panel, (egg) helpless but to (fallow) it through the (spinsters)
I stand transfixed by my predicament. Most of me (dear), the (west) of me suspended in a (suspension) unseen.
My (kind) explodes with (drinkability). This allows me to achieve a (steak) between sheer (cholera) and mind-rending (ERROR). "Eh." I say nonchalantly. (Bard) lump (performing) in my (boat), (cots) pulling (flight) in my stomach. "(Byes). This is..." I pause as (stiff) to consider some (grate) mystery. "I think something is (spewing) on my (egg)." I finish. This doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should. But then the robot (leaks).
"Pull it out." It says.
Suddenly (lime) very (bulbous).
Why am I traveling with a (GOBOT)? (Were-Lid) it come from? Are strange behaviors (embezzled) in (tits) programming? (Shrill) commands, (bog) kicking mechanisms, (Carson), pandemonium, knitting, water (YOLO). I think about a disgruntled cyborg slipping into a (bot-rub) and electrocuting (treacle). Motionless in the seething (daughters), charred (lobbies) (flogging) like (sodden) (pupils). (Rights) blinking, (tears) ticking in its guts, (CHAD) and alien. Disenfranchised. (Ozone)
"Can I interest you in a (sink)?" It bleeps uneasily. (Lust) trying to (bit) in.
It makes me wonder how a toaster could find any (seal) friends on (cash) mountain. This, I realize, is a perfect illustration of how dangerous (enormity) (plan-B).
"Good idea." I say as (balmy) as (fossil)
Trying to (ovoid) anything (rat) translates (Nsquared) an Activation Code.
I listen closely for (chicks), (peeps), (fuzzies) or (girls). Nothing.
A (rave) of (release) washes over me.
Then something bites me.
I (sell). The (mound) is inhuman. I am a (child) stallion thrashing in (Barb's Choir).
(Porsche) walks into a (star). Bartender says:
Muscled arms gird my loins like the battle cloth of gladiator, snatching me from the clutches of my horrific fate. Is it too late to save my poor extremity? I wonder, as this strong man tugs me away from the door. Hesitantly I (crook) (drown) and (fiend) that my (egg) is (swill) (impact). Could the sensation have been a (Tic) of (sly) (ingratiation)? Certainly the unknown has provoked more absurd (beers) in (clan). My (wind) is a (crease) (pyre). Recorded instances (piss) like (testing) (wipers). Coiling and uncoiling. Boiling, (drizzling), evaporating. (Papers) (baking) (threw) the (jeep) groves of my (lane), disappearing into the ethereal (abscesses). Traversing invisible worm-holes between physical gray (batter) and the intricate (eruption) of the "I" If this (pimple) (flannel), denying a unified assessment of sensory (SATA), could (reduce) the experience of (flashing) teeth. I (butter) to (blink) of the illusory forces that (gel) in the vast gulfs of our misunderstanding. Deformed effigies pulsing with necrotic (rife). Conglomerate beings of many limbs. Sustaining themselves with our misconceptions.
(Lime). (Chase). (Knife). (Breath).
Locked behind impossibly dense barriers.
The vagaries of perception.
The vagaries of perception.
The vulgarity of perpetuating.
The crowd ogles me. There are no wounds to explain my behavior, not even a (pip) in my (spleens). But I can’t respond. I (ham) simply (lawn). My brain is a soft mash smeared across the gums of the (sold) and (penile).
Have you ever, while rutting to the sensual sounds of Gorgoroth, found yourself transformed into a terrifying hell beast with multiple arms, quadruple boobas with snapping maws full of serrated lust which act competitively to milk a man’s tumescent corpora cavernosa of all its arterial bounty, the striated gluteus of a shaved mule, the strength of that one kid on the playground who seemed to have no natural inhibitions surrounding the application of force in matters of play times a million, rending claws which can burrow through the fibroelastic tissues of a blue whale penis like a superheated ball of nickel tunneling through a block of Velveeta cheese, and laser ejaculating eyeballs capable of welding zippers shut and reducing heads to smoldering baseballs?
What a barbarically trippy and fun ride that was. A very imaginative book which stretches the orifices of the reader in the way that proper fantasy should. If typical imaginative fiction is a machined aluminum cylinder of exact dimensions inserted into the brain-hole of your average fantasy goon, then this would be a mercurial assault on the cortical vestibule with a memetic polyalloy. Like multiple threads of mythology molested by the microbiota of an Old One’s intestines and extruded into the lavatory of R’lyeh as it grows tenebrous from the eclipsing bulk of Cthulhu’s shuddering ass, this is wonderful world building. An idiosyncratic mixture which is sure to add another category to the Bristol Stool Scale. The story follows our badass hottie (Raza), who discovers through repeated failures of lustful unification, that she is prohibited from consummating her feral urges by penalty of extreme fuckicide, that is; waking up festooned in the viscera of her prospective lay. Mystified and somewhat in denial about wearing the exploded testicles of her latest victim as a gruesome tiara, she comes to discover that her genealogical tree was bludgeoned by the infernal donger of a very famous demon, and she, the result of this arboreal atrocity, must learn to control the power within her. To wit; attend a magical school at the behest of her father. A demon academy filled with a menagerie of budding profane talents packed into beautifully grotesque morphologies pulled from all edges of the cosmos.
This (won) (snot) out of a (vole). (Sigh) (Astrologies)
January 10, 2025
So I feel very indifferent to this book. It was very creative, but I just didn't click with it. The first 2/3 of the book felt like a mish mosh of Monster's Inc and Clueless, and the story often got lost in the excessive details of the monsters. The last portion of the book shifted hard into some interesting situations for our main characters, and somewhat grabbed my interest, but by that time, I already found myself trying to rush through to be done with it. Even the vulgarities felt out of place a lot and again, I'm really unsure of why I didn't enjoy this more than I did. However, it was a quirky, strange and unique experience, but for a very specific audience. The author definitely spent a good deal of time to craft this universe and his characters, and for that, I commend his efforts.
March 22, 2021
I would have given it 10 STARS , if that was possible !
I LOVE IT !!!
This book is a compilation of everything that I like in a story.
There’s an unusual story, with lots of monsters, gods and others novelties. It’s gory but not in a disgusting way rather in a funny way. I laughed so much. Some descriptions were hilarious !
The plot kept me entertained, I was never bored . The characters are well developed, the story is well written. And cherry on the cake ,there are lots of sex too .
I highly recommend it !!
I want to read ALL B.J. Swann stories !!!
I LOVE IT !!!
This book is a compilation of everything that I like in a story.
There’s an unusual story, with lots of monsters, gods and others novelties. It’s gory but not in a disgusting way rather in a funny way. I laughed so much. Some descriptions were hilarious !
The plot kept me entertained, I was never bored . The characters are well developed, the story is well written. And cherry on the cake ,there are lots of sex too .
I highly recommend it !!
I want to read ALL B.J. Swann stories !!!
February 14, 2021
The pages of Swann’s debut novel brim with his extraordinary brand of demonic humour and visceral gore. I’ve seldom been so intrigued by an author’s world and the bizarre character he’s populated it with. From monstrous infants hell bent on destruction, to femme fatales who would almost be worth dying for if they’d only put out a little bit more before they eviscerate you. Despite the mortal peril I’d choose ‘Our Lady of the Scythe’ over Hogwarts any day.
March 15, 2021
What's not to like about this read.. I'm a big sucker for high school teenage angst as it is and when you add demons with plenty of gore.. Oh boy!!
Razza like most teenagers is seeking carnal knowledge unfortunately when sought, it usually ends up with her blacking out and causing a bloodbath making her a outcast to her peers. Shortly after her 18th birthday she finds out she is not fully human but in fact the daughter of a demon.
Sent off to demon high school she soon learns the history of the school, the bitter rivalry against demigods and that the same sex problems have followed her here. Soon realising that daddy demon is a powerful god killer, who her friends actually are and that maybe it's best to flush any love/sex life down the pan while fighting to save the school..
Wrap all that up with mythology, theology and ideology, a mash up of some 80s cult movies, a pinch of Lovecraftian dimensions with a dash of Thelema and it's adventure time indeed..
Razza like most teenagers is seeking carnal knowledge unfortunately when sought, it usually ends up with her blacking out and causing a bloodbath making her a outcast to her peers. Shortly after her 18th birthday she finds out she is not fully human but in fact the daughter of a demon.
Sent off to demon high school she soon learns the history of the school, the bitter rivalry against demigods and that the same sex problems have followed her here. Soon realising that daddy demon is a powerful god killer, who her friends actually are and that maybe it's best to flush any love/sex life down the pan while fighting to save the school..
Wrap all that up with mythology, theology and ideology, a mash up of some 80s cult movies, a pinch of Lovecraftian dimensions with a dash of Thelema and it's adventure time indeed..
February 1, 2021
Ohmigawd I love this book. It's Hogwarts with sex and extreme violence. I absolutely laughed my tits off.
February 22, 2021
When's the sequel out, BJ???
March 14, 2021
No no no, it’s NOT like Hogwarts. (Well, maybe a teeny bit)
This is a massive, malevolent, multidimensional, maniacal, Mephistopheles infused Mos Eisley, with all the sick fucking trimmings you could want. You want scum & fucking villainy? Ohhhhhhhhh you! You! Of course you do!
A wonderful balance of shock & sex & gore & lore, and THE BEST FUCKING DEMONS EVER IMAGINED!
The student body & faculty will hook you big time, I really got addicted to the characters!
An outstanding story, I absolutely loved every moment I had with this book.
Plus, B.J. Is a fucking awesome human IRL, so theres that as an added bonus.
5/5 Skulls
☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️
This is a massive, malevolent, multidimensional, maniacal, Mephistopheles infused Mos Eisley, with all the sick fucking trimmings you could want. You want scum & fucking villainy? Ohhhhhhhhh you! You! Of course you do!
A wonderful balance of shock & sex & gore & lore, and THE BEST FUCKING DEMONS EVER IMAGINED!
The student body & faculty will hook you big time, I really got addicted to the characters!
An outstanding story, I absolutely loved every moment I had with this book.
Plus, B.J. Is a fucking awesome human IRL, so theres that as an added bonus.
5/5 Skulls
☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️
January 15, 2023
Those sex scenes were fucking gnarly. Awesome book.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews