Liberty All Oiled Up

"Are you sure about this, Jim?"
"Don't worry, Rose, we have done the calculations. it should be fine!"
"I know, but... Still seems like a huge waste. Not to mention a huge risk!
"Now Rose, how could you say that? With this, we'll ensure that our most cherished national treasure remains in tip-top shape! Not to mention how popular our peanuts will become after this!"
"I understand, but..."
A MIB ran up to them, walkie-talkie in hand.
"Mr. President..." he began, seriously "She's here..."
"Right..." replied Carter "Well, no turning back, now, Rose..."

Rosalyn sighed. She knew what to expect the moment Jim's victory was announced. Heck, she had been preparing herself the moment he entered the primaries.
But all of that, and still, nothing could prepare her, or any First Lady, for that matter, to the fact that her husband was, albeit symbolically, a man of two wives the moment they stepped into the Oval Office.
They, of course, remained wedded husband and wife, that much hasn't changed - in fact, she could argue that Jim was even more loving, despite all the work he had to do.
But still, no woman wouldn't feel just a TINGE of jealousy, knowing that they had to share their man with... Her.

There it was.
The slow, steady, rhythmic shaking of the ground. Thunder on earth, as she drew closer.
Yet, these tremors, no matter how strong they got, would do no damage, no burst waterlines, snapped mains cables, or collapsing buildings. Barely a leaf fell from the trees, as the booming thumps drew nearer. Even the birds didn't fly off in terror.
Rose knew she was something else. Something... Supernatural.
But this still managed to surprise her.

From the distance, a shape began to emerge, over the horizon. Small at first, but, as it began to emerge, it was made clear just how colossal of a figure it had.
And it was coming, booming step after booming step.
It had a bit of a waddle, but that didn't stop it from looking imposing.
Finally, it stopped in front of them, a delegation of some thousand men and and a few women, who had gathered to greet her - to mention nothing of the millions who came to see her from all around the State and the country, or the camera crews fixated on her from all around.
She towered over them, her large form casting a shadow over the land.
Enormous cloak rippled with the sound of a thousand flags.

The people looked up. She looked down.
Neither could properly see the other, for her mountainous bosom stood in the way.

Inanna sighed. While she enjoyed her full figure - it was a sign of her worshipers' prosper, after all -, she was hoping that she could see her "husband", the man that represented the people of her blessed lands.
And his, wife, too. It would've been nice to chat with woman that made him happy, after all, the health, well-being, and happiness of those who pledged allegiance to her - how funny that sounded, so formal and modern, even after all these years - were what occupied her mind most of the time.
The president cleared his throat.

"Lady Liberty?" he began "I hope you had a safe journey here."
Several feet above, and through several layers of fattened metallic flesh, she could still hear him clearly, as if he was just standing beside her - and as if they were the same height.

"Of course, Jim." she said, softly. Her ethereal voice could be heard all around, but for the President, it sounded as if she was talking right next to him - and as if they were the same size.

"We're glad that you came!" Carter went on "We have prepared everything for you!"

Lady Liberty looked up, the fold of her second chin disappearing as the original no longer rested atop her chest. In front of her was an enormous, ever-deep pool, the size of a football field, and as deep as the height of the largest blast furnace in the United States, Indiana Harbor's Number 7.
It glistened in the blazing sun, filled up to two-thirds with a murky, honey-colored liquid.
Even from afar, the smell of peanuts lingered in the air.
It wasn't altogether unpleasant, but it laid really thick and heavy around the large reservoir.
Beside it was a much smaller and shallower one, filled with water.

"Is that... Peanut oil?"

Needless to say, Inanna was surprised.
Carter smiled, while Rosalynn gazed upon the colossus with awe and trepidation. Despite her personal doubts about the project, she, too, hoped that the Lady would enjoy their gift to her - it was for her own good, after all.

"Why, yes, it is!" said the president cheerily "Plenty enough for a bath!"

"A bath?"

The Lady was puzzled.
She had, in the past, enjoyed the Carter farm's peanuts, and had found their peanut oil to be a flavorful substitute for cooking oil. But she had never thought about swimming in it.

"Why, yes!" Jimmy had suppress a chuckle "You see, one of the best ways to keep metals from corroding is by giving them a layer of oil."

His infectious enthusiasm was beginning to pique Liberty's excitement as well, but it did little to alleviate Rose's worries.

"However, for this to work..." he went on "First, you'll need to heat up the metal, and then, fully submerge it in the oil."

"Is that why you invited me to here now?" she asked, with a smirk.
The summer sun was scorching, and the weather had unusually arid for the past few weeks. It was one of the hottest, sunniest summers Georgia ever had.

Now, a statue doesn't sweat. It was within Inanna's abilities to make herself be capable of it, but seeing that her body couldn't exactly get overheated by mere sunlight (what, with a melting point of 1085°C), she usually allowed herself to be "naturally warmed".
Such was the case today, as she stood, towering above an oil bath made for her, after walking across the country under the blazing summer sun.
She began to piece it together.

"Well..." she said, enthusiastically "Let's test it out first, shall we?"
And with that, she began to kneel down, tablet in hand.

Kneeling down was something of an arduous task for the 111-foot woman. Not out of exertion - a goddess like her felt no strain of muscle, especially not from something as simple as this -, but rather, out of worry that she may squash something.
Even with her former, svelte form, moving around in such close proximity to her worshipers could be difficult - graceful as she was, no amount of grace could solve the issue of limited moving space.
Thankfully, in time, people have learned to keep a safe distance - not for fear of her ferocity, but out of convenience (although, there was still the odd Peeping Tom or Tess who would try to sneak a peek underneath her gown as she walked - she didn't mind that, but they were putting themselves in danger, which she did).
Now, though, with several decades of bountiful prosperity under her belt (as well as above and bellow it), even the act of changing her body's position required a wide berth to be given.

Not that that bothered anyone.

Getting down on half-knee, and sticking her torch into the ground, she propped herself up - a giant, plump hand pressing down on the grassy ground, chunky arm peeking out from underneath her gown -, and got fully onto her knees.
Cameras flashed, far and wide, as the contours of her mountainous ass emerged from under the long cloth.

Rosalynn frowned. She would have have a word with Jim about the press. Sure, everyone adored Lady Liberty, but this was a bit disrespectful.

Carefully, so as not to cause any splashes, Inanna lowered her tablet into the oil. Hot from being in the sun all day, the oil sizzled and bubbled around the copper, as it was slowly tilted to be fully submerged.

She let it rest for awhile, propping herself up on her knees, as she watched with interest.
While some TV crews were likewise focused on the process, many cameras trailed upwards to capture the nation's beloved icon in such a seldom-seen position.
There was just something endearing about it. Her eyes, featureless as they were, were wide open, almost twinkling with rapt attention.
Her face was almost cherubic, chin settling into the roll of the second, as they rested upon her hillside of a bust, now emphasized even through the loose-fitting gown, as her chunky arms pushed them together.
Of course, large as they were, they still paled in comparison to the veritable hills of her behind - a feature quite a few were now painfully aware of.

As the bubbling ceased, Liberty reached into the oil to retract her tablet.
It shone with a reddish-gold light under the sun - with the patina removed beforehand, the metal slab could now glisten it's original, copper-colored glory, the letters "JULY IV MDCCLXXVI" proudly displayed upon it's front.

With a delighted smile, the Lady the used some of the water from the smaller pool to rinse of the oil (which rendered Carter anxious, although he didn't protest), and then set it aside for her people to see, laying it flat on the ground.
She then went on to pluck her torch out of the ground, and, after cleaning off the dirt in the smaller pool, had the very tip of the gold-plated flame pinched between her fingers, as she lowered it into the oil.
The press was quick to capture her subtle frown of concentration, as she held onto the flame, akin to how Achilles may been held by his heels, as he gained his near-invulnerability.

Once oil had stopped boiling around it, she retracted the torch - having held it just up to the bottom of the flame, and, after a quick rinse, showed it off for all the people to see: the method was working!
The copper was shinier than the gold!

Setting the torch on the ground (and allowing a group of cleaners to set about buffing the flame), Lady Liberty stood up, partially, hand still on her knees as he leaned forward. She smiled down upon her "husband", the President and his wife.

"Thank you, Jim." she said, softly "This is just what I'll need!"

With that, she stood up, properly this time, the furious clicking of the cameras dispersing into silence.
Now bereft of her torch and tablet, Inonna stood up to her full height, and stretched, allowing the gown to fall of her thick arms.
Unblemished by cellulite, and wrapped in a supple layer of adipose, they were the heralds of the utter perfection that was the body of Lady Liberty, shining icon of the United States, it's people, and it's ideas.

After a good stretch (and a delightful little noise from between her closed lips, that set the hearts of the crowd, both men's and women's. on fire), she reached to her thick neck, gently grasping at the hem of her gown, before pulling it apart in a quick motion, and letting it fall to the ground - letting it land with a loud bang, as the metallic textile collapsed in on itself, crumpling like regular piece of cloth would, only hundreds of times larger, and made of a fine, interwoven mesh of copper.

After a few seconds of stunned stupor, the crowd burst into cheers, camera flashes almost outshining the sun, as excited reporters attempted to outshout the crowd.

The moment the Lady opened her gown was the exact moment Carter firmly and decided turned to look at his First Lady's face.
Sure enough, Rosalynn eyes widened, mouth falling open, and cheeks reddening with a blush, as she realized - not for the first time, and probably not for the last, either - just why the colossus before her was the nation's most beloved woman.

Perhaps it was her divine nature, or the fact that a statue like her was meant to be beautiful - whatever the reason, Liberty, naked before the masses, was achingly beautiful.

Body-wise, she was far from the beauty standards of today's fashion - she was curvy, alright, but she had long since lost the athletic slimness that would've been the base requirement to even appear on a photo shoot.

Yet, the people loved her. Idolized her, though, not for her looks. Rather, for what she represented.

She was the symbol of freedom, after all, enlightening the world, a welcoming figure for people from troubled lands and pasts, who's guiding light brought them into the Promise Land, the New World - America.

But she was also the symbol of the States themselves, a bountiful land of natural wealth and beauty.
Her freedom was that of reason, effort given posture by bravery, and progress built upon solid foundations. A time-tested and triumphant symbol of Independence that beckoned to follow.

A symbol of beauty, a symbol of abundance - with the figure to prove it!

To put it bluntly, Liberty was fat. Fat and GORGEOUS!

What her arms had hinted at now came into full force, as her generous figure stood, bared to the eyes of the world.
Not a single dimple of cellulite, not a single stretch mark or wrinkle, no spots or moles. Only the vast expanse of supple, bronze flesh.

Breasts easily larger than the size of her head (crown excluded), sagging slightly, unsupported, but still full and firm, like the fronts of two descending blimps, topped by large areolae with the same circumference as that of gasometer tanks - roughly the size of small plates, in proportion to her body -, that domed out even further, and peaked by nipples the size of oil drums - albeit wide and stocky like large tree stumps.
They shone in the sunlight, with a slow, pendulous jiggle caused by the discarded gown.

Under the shadows of her mammaries hung a protruding stomach, tree-folded - one roll atop, disappearing under her breasts, and two, seemingly more fused to the love-handles at her sides, than to each other, albeit still clearly just one roll of flesh, pulled narrow by the cavern of her navel above, and her somewhat understated upper pubic area beneath.
While the sheer size of her belly (with a little help from gravity) was enough to cover her pubic mound, from the angle millions were seeing her right now, it might as well have been a washboard.

Her nether plump nether lips - larger than her mouth's, if some estimates were to be believed - were clearly visible for all in front of her.

From the back, however, the main focus fell upon on the Lady's shiny, spotless, and enormous bottom. Propped up by a pair of thunder thighs that would've made Zeus cry for Hephaestus, and calves each wider than a factory smokestack, they stuck out far behind her, like a pair of radar domes, the skin perfectly taut, yet smooth and soft-looking.
They dwarfed all her other features, with each globe being larger than her head, broader in circumference that the furthest length of her crown's spikes.
They jutted out enough to cast a shadow upon her thighs, yet, no wrinkle or fold besmirched her flesh, wide-set hips giving support to love-handles, and buttocks pushing up into a fat back.
Her fat-laden, broad arms slowly lowered down - arguably the least affected part of her body. A small surprise, that, seeing as both were frequently occupied with holding a heavy torch and and tablet.
In fact, many speculated that the layer of soft fat actually hid well-toned muscles.

Finally, her head, adorned by shoulder-length greco-roman coiffure with ringlets on the side, and her iconic crown - the visage of the most powerful woman of modern history. With this came an almost cherub-like plump face, with chubby cheeks, a roman nose and plump lips, again lacking dimples, with her plump chin creating a second roll every time she tilted her head forward enough to cover her thickened, but still well-defined neck.


Mrs. Carter gawked at the sight, taken in by the beauty towering before her, ears death to the cacophony of adoring cries, claps, wolf whistles and catcalls from the crowds.
Feeling her mouth run dry, she swallowed hard, only to notice, from the periphery of her vision, her husband, smiling at her.
Startled, her head snapped towards him.

"H-How long... Have y-... I been staring?" she asked, breathless.

"Only for a couple of minutes." replied Jimmy, still smiling "You looked so enthralled. I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

It was now Rosalynn's turn to smile, her blush deepening as she leaned in to plant a kiss on the cheek of her man.

Inonna soon realized the purpose of the smaller pool: standing in it to rinse her foot of dirt - she was, after all, barefooted -, before entering the larger pool.
The water was hot enough to boil flesh, though, not hers, of course.
Soon enough, her soles were clean, and, after lifting a leg, and shaking the water off of it - carefully avoiding covering the crowds with it, but still setting her body into a quivering, jiggling frenzy, that caused further uproar -, she stepped directly into the "bath".
She seemed to have miscalculated the depth, however, as her feet landed with a rough stomp, causing her to let out a squeak of surprise, and causing her flesh to quake even more fervently. The oil splashed upwards, though, not nearly high enough to land outside the pool.

Once she was sure she wouldn't loose her balance, Liberty lifted her other leg - exposing her plump nethers to particularly lucking section of the crowd -, before shaking that leg of as well, and lowering it into the oil, now fully standing in her "bath".

Thankfully, the reservoir was designed with a small step at one end, from which the floor descended in a rapid slope, reaching a depth of 310 feet.
Where she stood, beside the small water pool, the oil only reached up to the middle of her calves. Thus, she carefully stepped forward, beginning her descent into the murky golden fluid.

With the first step, it reached her knees, and with the fifth, her nether lips (eliciting a coo from her), before she continued, until she was up to her breasts in it.
There she leaned back, submerging up to her chin in the stuff, using the slope of the bottom a reclining surface.
There, she stopped. and with a pleased moan, leaned back to enjoy the cool oil around her.

"I think she likes it." said Rose, signalling that her husband can finally look at their goddess.
Jim stared, with a wry smile, upon the gigantic, supine figure.
With her increased girth, she had managed to raise the level of the oil - not nearly enough to overflow the reservoir, but definitely significant.

"Good." he said, finally "Though, I fear we may need a bigger pool next time around."

"Would there be a next time?"

"I'd say so. Good as that coat is, it won't last forever, especially in the salty, coastal winds of New York's harbor."

"Oh." slightly bemused, Rose pondered for a moment.

"Shouldn't we have used something more longer-lasting, then?" she asked.

"It wouldn't worth the cost." replied the President "Peanut oil was the cheapest, relative to it's manufacturing price and effectiveness. It'll have to do."

Unimpressed, but understanding, Rose followed his gaze, back to the resting statue.

"Well, at least, she enjoys it."


Inanna hummed to herself.
Jim was a curious person. Charming, in a way, but then again, there wasn't a president she couldn't find something to like about - it was her nature to love her people, her little Americans, and her "husbands", occupying the highest electable position in the country, was the "sacrifice" of the people: the person they considered to be most suitable to lead the country.
She had to admit, she never fully understood the ins and outs of the electoral college, but she had never met anyone she would've described as a "bad" president.
Heck, if the boys from Rushmore were any indication, the country never really had any "bad" presidents - just exceedingly mediocre ones. Poor Harrison...
Jimmy was different. Not "something else", like Dick had been, and certainly not as charismatic as Kennedy, but he had his charms. He was a loving husband, and acted as such.

As her breasts floated to the surface, she had to scoop up some oil to pour it over them, and keep them submerged.
She could only use one arm, as she needed at least one to prop herself up, and prevent her body from slipping further in. While her big behind was heavy enough to anchor her to the slope, it was simply to slippery for it to hold her up.
She figured the moment she had enough of languishing, she could just lift her arms, and allow herself to slip in - the reservoir was tiled, much like a swimming pool.

She began to piece it all together when he explained how the oil was supposed to work. A few years ago, when he came back from Tito's funeral (which she encouraged him to go to, as per her agreement with Mother Russia, who in turn convinced General Secretary Andropov), he brought up the idea of putting solar panels atop the White House. This sparked a conversation about summer activities, during which she mentioned how she would like to try sunbathing, as it would allow her to lay down instead of standing all day and night, concluded that it would be pointless, as she couldn't get a tan.
It seems like he remembered.

After taking a thorough "shower" the day before, during which she was pressure washed until they scrubbed off all the patina coating her, she was as copper brown as she was the day of her dedication.
And with this coating of oil, she'd be able to retain her tan.

With a smile, she let go, slowly slipping deeper, until she was fully submerged.
Up top, the crowds waited anxiously, cameras pointed at the bubbling surface of the oil.
The bubbles became fewer and fewer...
Then...
Nothing.

"She's made of metal." Rose muttered, eyes flying open with startling realization "How is she going to climb out?"

The very next second, there was a loud squeak, akin to when something large and rubbery - like flesh - rubs across something smooth and glassy - like ceramic -, followed by a splash.
Peanut oil coated the grass, pooling into puddles. Thankfully, it didn't reach the crowds, although a hapless MIB needed a new suit.

"See? She's resourceful, our girl."

Sitting on the step, in the shallow oil, was their Lady Liberty, now a darker, reddish-brown, golden oil slowly dribbling down her behemoth curves.
After waiting for most of the oil to flow down from her, she stood up, naked body becoming visible for the masses once more.

Judging by the outburst of cheering and hollering, they approved of her changes. However, as she sat her hand down on the side of the reservoir, a look of puzzlement emerged on her face, looking down at the comparatively tiny pool of water that she had used prior to getting in.

Now, it was Carter's turn to look anxious.

"Oh, damn." he mumbled, paling slightly "How is she going to rinse off? We hadn't built anything for that!"

Chuckling, Rosalynn patted his shoulder

"I think the public's got you covered!" she said, pointing at the scene.

The National Guard attempted to control the crowd, as did the local police force, but it was no use.
The MIB didn't even bother, they had the President and the First Lady secured, and that's all that mattered. Lady Liberty was more than capable of defending herself - something which their precursors have found out in 1919, at the height of the anarchist bombings and riots, when a few would-be revolutionary attempted to blow her up. She shut them down in the best way she knew: trapping the four bombers in her cleavage, mainly to prevent them from being injured by their own explosives. Afterwards, she went on nation-wide tour to gather all the anarchist, mostly out of fear that they would do more harm to themselves if left unattended with their frustration. Her "campaign" of prevention was a success, and prevented a nasty backlash against other leftists.
As for the mad bombers who've gotten into close acquaintance with her bosom, well, although she was far thinner back then, this was still a rather effective "deterrent".
The anarchist, though unreformed, decided to put their efforts into more creative endeavors.

Now, the crowds have clambered all over her with sponges, water hoses and even floor polishing machines, all in an effort to help her scrub the excess oil of...

In the days that followed, the visage of the Lady Liberty, copper brown (if not a bit darker) as on the day she came to life filled the news across the world.
Carter's predictions proved accurate - interest in peanut oil had skyrocketed, and the U.S. soon found itself bagging a number of trade deals with ease.
Even the Soviets wanted in on the action, although mainly because of their then-ongoing interest in alternative fuel sources.
Of course, the media had a field day with the event - Carter's reputation as a peanut farmer had already made him comedy material, but this stunt made him comedy gold. For months on end, his portrayal as a mad scientist obsessed with peanuts echoed around in newspapers.
Of course, they wouldn't end without at least a few conservative commentators from the Deep South "congratulating" Carter at being the first ever president to turn the nation's beloved icon into a nigger.

Unfortunately, the coat, as predicted, worn off within a month, and by the end of the long summer, Lady Liberty was once again green as a fairy.

Many said the event cost Carter's re-election. Inanna remained adamant that it was the solar panels - those things were not nearly as effective as they hoped, the technology simply wasn't there yet!