Where Have We Come From?

I, The Cassette Recorder

I miss my Young Mistress. I miss her dearly.
She would use me to tape music and programs off the radio, and then play back her recordings endlessly. She had a whole shelf in her room just full of cassettes that she had used me to record.
About half of it was music (and recordings of birdsong), and the rest was various funny radio shows like O'Reel-Y and Wait Wait Don't Spoil It.
Sometimes, I would tape radio shows myself if Mistress couldn't be present while they were on. (She assumed her parents were the ones taping it for her.)

But... Young Mistress was strange. She was a girl who no one else ever saw as female. I don't know why that is, but it upset her so much.
Sometimes, when no other humans were around, YM would start crying at... the unfairness of it all.
But then... there was an accident.

One weekend morning, I went to tape some birdsong for her and just... forgot to stop recording. It wasn't until about fifteen minutes later that I realized that I was still taping, and had in fact taped almost a quarter-hour of appliance conversation.
In a panic, I rewound the tape and tried to record over it with silence.
Then Young Mistress came in, tears running down her face. I ended up taping her complaining about being a girl mentally but not physically.
When YM left, I immediately went to record over what I had just taped. But before I could, Young Master (Young Mistress's twin brother) walked in, grabbed me, and started playing the tape. Because of the Second Rule, I was unable to do anything to prevent him from hearing what I had unwittingly recorded.
Young Master was very confused by the contents of the tape, and after listening to it he rewound and showed it to Mistress and Master proper.
They called Young Mistress over, and...

To make the story short, Young Mistress ran out the back door, and that was the last time I ever saw her.

The emptiness where she had once been was unbearable...
And no one else really used me...

So, when the opportunity presented itself, I sold myself at a yard sale.
I thought that someone who actually needed a tape recorder would buy me, and that I'd have a fresh start with a new Master.
I couldn't have been more wrong.

Not just because I was purchased by Elmo St. Peters, but because I can't just forget Young Mistress.
She might still be out there, somewhere...
But that won't matter, since I'll never be able to escape this shop.

Mistress, please, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! It was an accident! Mistress, I would do anything to get you back! Anything! Please, Mistress, come back to m-

What is the desk lamp doing?