“I’ll be honest, I'm not into zombie shows or zombie movies or apocalyptic movies,” Carrie-Anne Moss tells Inverse. “It's not really my thing.”

I believe her. Speaking over Zoom from her home in New Hampshire, Moss looks content and comfortable in a dark black sweater. It’s a sunny fall day and I can see a mix of red and yellow New England foliage on the trees framed by the window behind her. There’s probably a fireplace crackling somewhere not too far offscreen.

It’s all a very far cry from her character in the new zombie thriller Die Alone, which releases today. Moss plays Mae, an apocalypse-hardened warrior who takes in a young man with amnesia named Ethan (Douglas Smith) and protects him from both the undead and human ravagers.

Moss has been playing cool, badass women since 1999 when she delivered a slow-motion flying kick to Hollywood as Trinity in The Matrix. A year later, she played a small but memorable part in Christopher Nolan’s breakout hit Memento. More recently, she joined Star Wars as Jedi Master Indara in The Acolyte. We cover all that and more in the conversation below.

“Bind me as tight as you can, girls, with the biggest ropes and chains you can find!”

In Wonder Woman #13 (1945), our superheroine finds herself in a tight spot, literally, as she’s bound to a wooden post with ropes and chains by her fellow Amazon warriors. “Even you can’t escape these bonds,” they taunt her. But despite their best efforts, Wonder Woman (aka, Princess Diana of Themyscira) frees herself easily in what turns out to be a Themysciran game.

This was just one of many scenes rife with imagery of bondage and fetish play that Wonder Woman creator William Moulton Marston littered throughout his comics. Marston, a psychologist and avowed feminist, believed that submission from a “loving authority” was the ideal form of human interaction. He also believed that women would eventually rule the world and that the best way to prepare the male population was to teach them to submit through the metaphor of comic books.

In Marston’s ideal world, Wonder Woman might’ve been the beginning of a kink takeover of superhero comics. Instead, history has reduced Wonder Woman’s bondage roots to a forgotten footnote. But did those kinky feminist origins leave more of an impact on the comics industry than we might have thought? In a genre that’s becoming increasingly de-sexualized, perhaps the kink is just waiting in the wings.