“How/where” is easy: I speak, and they find me.
I posted my first story to a bulletin board in the early ‘90s; within a week, one of my readers was declaring her love to me, and a month after that, she was driving six hours so I could pound her into a motel mattress and make her love me forever. Of course, I move much, much slower today, but the essential elements remain the same… I think aloud, and they gather ’round to listen.
“How many” is difficult to say; this is less a harem than a congregation. A couple have keys to the rectory, a few are welcome on the grounds day or night, many step forward for a blessing when they need it, and the pews are full to bursting at every sermon.
As for descriptions?
Some are old, some are young. Some are fat, some are skinny. Some are tall, some are short. They run the gamut from fashionable-but-helpless princesses with obsessively manicured bodies to schlubby, rumpled, lop-sided little weirdos who look like a blind god put them together from a spare parts box.
(Interestingly, most of the princesses think they’re actually weirdos. Life is hard for girls.)
With that said, they have a single common characteristic.
They never want me to stop talking.