The first thing Wonder Woman ever does with her magic lasso is to play bondage games. This is in Wonder Woman #1, from 1942. Wonder Woman's mother, Queen Hippolyte of the Amazons, gives her daughter the lasso as a gift, explaining, “The magic lasso carries Aphrodite's power to make men and women submit to your will! Whomever you bind with that lasso must obey you!” Just then, an Amazon doctor walks in, and Wonder Woman—aka Diana Prince—decides to try out her new toy. She lassos the doctor and commands, “Now stand on your head!” The hapless doctor declares, “N-n-yes, princess! I wouldn't do it, but something compels me!”

You can see where Wonder Woman is coming from. If you had a magic lasso, wouldn't you want to make dignified doctors stand on their heads? But, alas, there aren't many such hijinks in the new Sensation Comics Featuring Wonder Woman Vol. 1, an anthology of one-off Wonder Woman stories by a variety of creators, many of whom aren't DC Comics regulars. It's meant to be eclectic and fun and unstructured; the stories aren't strictly in DC continuity, which means creators have more leeway for invention than in regular titles. And yet, despite the greater freedom, Wonder Woman never gets to play with her magic lasso the way she did in that first issue.

That's because over the years, Wonder Woman's magic lasso has been depowered. In the original comics by the psychologist, polyamorist, and crank William Marston and artist Harry Peter, the lasso compelled obedience. Gradually, though, it was depowered until it only compelled truth—a transition solidified in the popular '70s television show starring Lynda Carter. Instead of being able to make anyone do anything, the lasso now just makes folks answer honestly—which is a lot less useful, and, not coincidentally, a lot less entertaining. In the first story in Sensation Comics, by writer Gail Simone and artists Ethan Van Sciver and Marcelo Di Chiara, Wonder Woman ties up all of Batman's villains with her rope and forces them to confront their deepest fears. In Gilbert Hernandez's “No Chains Can Hold Her,” a broad-shouldered, very Amazonian-looking Wonder Woman lassos robots and cheerfully bashes them against the ceiling. In Amanda Deibert and Cat Staggs' “Defender of Truth,” she trusses up some hunky centaurs. But nowhere in the book does Wonder Woman command anyone to stand on his (or her) head. The lasso doesn't have that power any more.

That change in power may seem like a minor fannish detail—no more important than the fact that Superman originally had the power of superjumping rather than superflight. But the magic lasso of command was absolutely central to the original Wonder Woman stories, and to Marston's original vision of the character. Marston described the lasso as “symbol of female charm, allure, oomph, attraction,” and of the power that “every woman has … over people of both sexes.” In his (very idiosyncratic) psychological writings, Marston, who believed women were destined to rule over a peaceful matriarchy, talked very explicitly about women's “oomph” as sexual; in his academic writing, he described intercourse as the vagina engulfing and controlling the penis. The lasso, then, was supposed to be a yonic symbol—and the use of the lasso was intended to be a form of erotic play. The original Wonder Woman comics were structured around Wonder Woman tying up and controlling bad guys (male and female; Marston enthusiastically endorsed lesbianism) and then being tied up and controlled in turn. The comics weren't centered on violent battle, but on bondage play. Marston wanted boys and girls of all ages to learn the joys of submission to a good woman—to find out how much fun it is to be stood on your head and then, maybe, how much fun it is to switch and make that princess/mistress stand on her head herself.

This isn't how superhero narratives usually work. Henry Cavill and Scarlett Johansson may provide eye candy onscreen, but the main driver of Man of Steel or The Avengers is fisticuffs. It's hardly a surprise that images for Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman in the upcoming Batman v. Superman film show her carrying not a lasso, but a sword. Director Zach Snyder knows you're in the theater to see hacking and hitting—the money shot involves violence, not kink.